Sundown at Hostages Square

Ran Gvili is not yet home. We do not have closure, yet our gathering place is closing up shop. We, the people of Hostages Square, are delighted that so many of the hostages have returned. Yet we cannot rest until the last hostage is brought back home. Ran, hero of Alumim, we are waiting for you.

For over two years, I stood and spoke in Hostages Square. I spoke to groups and individual visitors. I told the stories of the hostages, especially those beautiful young people taken from the Nova dance festival. I stood in silent vigil during protests. I stood onstage every Saturday night at the weekly rallies. I marched with the hostage families. I shouted at evening protests on Begin Road, stopping traffic, shouting the names of each hostage, and counting out the days. I am still counting: 826 as of Friday. We will not stop counting until Ran Gvili comes home.

Even then, once the last hostage has been brought home, we will not rest. There is so much to do, so much wrong that must be put right. We demand a public inquiry into the debacle of October 7th. Not a political whitewash. Not a cover-up, but a real and objective inquiry. The people deserve answers and we will have them. We will have to keep fighting even after the last hostage returns.

But at least we will be able to begin to heal. Just as those amazing, brave human beings – the hostages who returned alive – are courageously beginning to heal. As they begin their lives anew, we, too, the people of Hostages Square, must begin our lives.

Life after Hostages Square

It has been one month now since we started to fold up our tents at Hostages Square. One month since the Hostage Family Forum announced that official activities in Hostages Square would cease at year’s end.  We, the volunteers, knew this was coming. We understood that the money had long ago run out and that maintaining this site, this level of activity, was untenable. This was especially evident to those of us who spent our days at the Square and saw the dwindling numbers of visitors.

Yet, it feels sudden and premature. How can we close up shop when one hostage remains in Gaza? Rani must be brought home before we stop. Rani must come home now. His family is waiting. A nation is waiting. Official Hostages Square activities have ended but people still come to the Square. Gatherings are less frequent – just about once a week now instead of daily. Every Friday at Hostages Square, people gather, and every Friday, people ask the same question: Is this the last Friday? Is this the last Kabbalat Shabbat?

We are there to support Ran’s family. We are there for each other as well. All of us, people of the Square, have hugged and cried and prayed together for over two years.  We are ready to move on with our lives. But there is unfinished business. There is one hostage left.

This Friday, members of Kibbutz Alumim spoke at the weekly gathering. “Ran, we did not know you. You did not know us. But you gave your life to save us. We are here today thanks to you. We join your family in the fight to bring you home.” Ran’s parents, Talik and Itzik, sit in the front row and listen stoically. But then the musicians sing a song that Rani loved. Only then does Itzik break down. He is weeping quietly, head in hand. After two years and three months of quiet struggle, a father allows himself to cry.

The service ends. The songs, the speeches, the hugs… We clean up. We stack the chairs. Again we wonder: Is this the last time? We walk out into the rain-soaked square. It looks vast now that the tents are gone. There are just a few remnants now in the square: Alon Ohel’s piano, the giant clock counting the days since Oct. 7^th. Puddles reflect the stacks of yellow chairs.

It is only mid-afternoon, but the Square has emptied out quickly. Just a few of us hang around. We drink coffee. We sit and chat. We don’t want to leave. We don’t want to desert the place that has been our home, our gathering place for all these 826 days. We stick around in the chilly, empty square. What are we waiting for? And then we see it: The sky turns into a splash of magenta, silver and lavender. The deep purple clouds meet streaks of hot pink. The sky takes our breath away with its beauty and its promise. This day is over. A new day is coming. Sundown at Hostages Square.