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Remembering the members of Kibbutz Be'eri, who were murdered in the Hamas terrorist attack on October 7th. Here you can find memorial pages for each and every one of them Read about each one Kibbutz Be'eri mourns its victims of murder in the October 7 terrorist attack NO ONE IS FORGOTTEN HE "Know that time and enemies, wind and water, will not eliminate you. You will endure, made of letters. It is not a trifle. Something, nonetheless, will remain of you" [Haim Gouri] Kibbutz Be'eri victims on Saturday 7/10 Yossi Aptalon 77 years old 21.04.1946 - 07.10.2023 Haggi Avni 50 years old 26.09.1973 - 07.10.2023 Carmel Bachar 15 years old 04.01.2008 - 07.10.2023 Dana Bachar 48 years old 30.01.1975 - 07.10.2023 Geula Bachar 80 years old 10.10.1942 - 07.10.2023 Mazi Bachar 63 years old 24.12.1959 - 07.10.2023 Ma'ayan Bar 65 years old 23.02.1958 - 07.10.2023 Yuval Bar 65 years old 22.03.1958 - 07.10.2023 Yoram Bar Sinai 75 years old 25.07.1948 - 07.10.2023 Idan Baruch 20 years old 16.08.2003 - 07.10.2023 Sahar Baruch 25 years old 25.11.1998 - 08.12.2023 Hava Ben Ami 78 years old 16.02.1945 - 07.10.2023 Oron Bira 54 years old 29.04.1969 - 07.10.2023 Tahel Bira 15 years old 19.10.2007 - 07.10.2023 Tair Bira 22 years old 28.12.2000 - 07.10.2023 Tal Bira 62 years old 27.12.1961 - 07.10.2023 Yasmin Bira 51 years old 04.11.1971 - 07.10.2023 Gil Boyum 55 years old 06.02.1968 - 07.10.2023 Inbar Boyum 22 years old 04.12.2000 - 07.10.2023 Grace Cabrera 45 years old (Nursing Assistant) 23.12.1978 - 07.10.2023 Rotem Calderon 67 years old 14.10.1956 - 07.10.2023 Mila Cohen 9 month old 29.12.2022 - 07.10.2023 Ohad Cohen 43 years old 10.06.1980 - 07.10.2023 Pesi Cohen 68 years old 06.03.1955 - 07.10.2023 Yona Cohen 73 years old 18.01.1950 - 07.10.2023 Adi Dagan 68 years old 03.06.1955 - 07.10.2023 Alon Even 16 years old 28.03.2007 - 07.10.2023 Chen Even 46 years old 15.07.1977 - 07.10.2023 Ido Even 14 years old 14.05.2009 - 07.10.2023 Rinat Even 44 years old 25.08.1979 - 07.10.2023 Tchelet Fishbain 18 years old 30.06.2005 - 07.10.2023 Marcelle Freilich 64 years old 27.4.1959 - 07.10.2023 Yona Fricker 69 years old 04.08.1954 - 07.10.2023 Carmel Gat 40 years old 16.05.1984 - 29.08.2024 Kineret Gat 68 years old 07.11.1955 - 07.10.2023 Ayelet Godard 63 years old 28.06.1960 - 07.10.2023 Meni Godard 73 years old 15.08.1950 - 07.10.2023 Eitan Hadad 43 years old 04.04.1980 - 07.10.2023 Narkis Hand 54 years old 02.02.1969 - 07.10.2023 Avshal Haran 66 years old 15.06.1957 - 07.10.2023 Zehava Heker 68 years old 13.12.1954 - 07.10.2023 Ze’ev Heker 72 years old 27.02.1951 - 07.10.2023 Ma’ayana Hershkovitz 65 years old 28.02.1958 - 07.10.2023 Noah Hershkovitz 68 years old 11.05.1955 - 07.10.2023 Avia Hetzroni 69 years old 13.08.1954 - 07.10.2023 Ayala (Aylus) Hetzroni 73 years old 10.06.1950 - 07.10.2023 Liel Hetzroni 12 years old 6.4.2011 - 07.10.2023 Yanai Hetzroni 12 years old 06.04.2011 - 07.10.2023 Dror Kaplun 68 years old 24.07.1955 - 07.10.2023 Shoshana Karasanti 86 years old 30.11.1937 - 07.10.2023 David Karol 72 years old 14.09.1951 - 07.10.2023 Ofra Keidar 70 years old 02.09.1953 - 07.10.2023 Sami Keidar 70 years old 27.01.1953 - 07.10.2023 Eviatar (Tari) Kipnis 65 years old 24.02.1958 - 07.10.2023 Lilach Kipnis 60 years old 09.08.1963 - 07.10.2023 Itzik Kozin 72 years old 07.03.1951 - 07.10.2023 Arik Kraunik 54 years old 02.08.1969 - 07.10.2023 Hana Kritzman 88 years old 27.03.1935 - 21.10.2023 Dr. Daniel Levi Ludmir 34 years old (on-call doctor) 16.01.1989 - 07.10.2023 Rony Levy 80 years old 14.09.1943 - 07.10.2023 Igor Losev 59 years old 17.11.1964 - 07.10.2023 Marina Losev 61 years old 06.12.1962 - 07.10.2023 Galit Majzner-Carbone 66 years old 20.9.1957 - 07.10.2023 Amit Mann 22 years old (Paramedic) 19.02.2001 - 07.10.2023 Yarin Marie Peled 20 years old 08.04.2003 - 07.10.2023 Ablum Milles 80 years old 14.08.1943 - 07.10.2023 Avi Mor 61 years old 27.08.1962 - 07.10.2023 Rafael (Rafi) Mordo 84 years old 28.11.1938 - 07.10.2023 Mordechai Naveh 76 years old 26.06.1947 - 07.10.2023 Adrienne Neta 66 years old 30.08.1957 - 07.10.2023 Sylvia Ohayon 59 years old 13.08.1964 - 07.10.2023 Dror Or 48 years old 10.01.1975 - 07.10.2023 Yonat Or 50 years old 05.11.1972 - 07.10.2023 Yonatan Rapoport 41 years old 16.04.1982 - 07.10.2023 Anola Retnianka 49 years old (Nursing Assistant) 24.05.1974 - 07.10.2023 Dor Rider 22 years old (Temporary worker) 12.11.2001 - 07.10.2023 Lianne Sharabi 48 years old 20.2.1975 - 07.10.2023 Noya Sharabi 16 years old 01.10.2007 - 07.10.2023 Yahel Sharabi 13 years old 03.10.2010 - 07.10.2023 Yosi Sharabi 53 years old 16.09.1970 - 14.01.2024 Ran Sheffer 48 years old 22.02.1975 - 07.10.2023 Ziv Shopen 56 years old 23.10.1967 - 07.10.2023 Noy Shosh 37 years old 12.12.1986 - 07.10.2023 Vivian Silver 74 years old 2.2.1949 - 07.10.2023 Hannah Siton 73 years old (Pesi Cohen's sister) 30.08.1950 - 07.10.2023 Tal Siton 49 years old (Pesi Cohen's nephew) 20.04.1974 - 07.10.2023 Yitzhak Siton 76 years old (Pesi Cohen's brother-in-law) 12.06.1947 - 07.10.2023 Tami Suchman 76 years old 26.01.1947 - 07.10.2023 Itai Svirsky 38 years old 17.02.1985 - 13.01.2024 Orit Svirsky 70 years old 20.07.1953 - 07.10.2023 Rafi Svirsky 71 years old 10.03.1952 - 07.10.2023 Lior Tarshansky 16 years old 24.10.2007 - 07.10.2023 Paul Vince Castelvi 43 years old (Nursing Assistant) 21.12.1980 - 07.10.2023 Ilan Weiss 56 years old 03.11.1967 - 07.10.2023 Matti Weiss 69 years old 08.02.1954 - 07.10.2023 Shmulik Weiss 65 years old 05.11.1957 - 07.10.2023 Yehudit Weiss 65 years old 13.4.1958 - 07.10.2023 Amir Weiss 69 years old 08.02.1954 - 07.10.2023 Sujith Yatawara 48 years old (Nursing Assistant) 31.07.1975 - 07.10.2023 Yehudit Yitzhaki 76 years old 21.09.1947 - 07.10.2023 Shachar Zemach 39 years old 17.04.1984 - 07.10.2023 Haim Zohar 72 years old 29.11.1950 - 07.10.2023

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri David Karol Life Story Family and friends share their stories David Karol, a cherished figure within the Be'eri community, is remembered with fondness and deep respect. Born to Grazia and Albert Karol, immigrants from Izmir, Turkey, David was the eldest among his siblings, Moshe and Yigal. His early years were spent in the Ramat Amidar neighbourhood of Ramat Gan, where he was known for his mischievous nature and infectious zest for life. David's dream since the age of 13 was to live on a kibbutz, and eventually his adventurous spirit led him to Be'eri at the age of 16. Despite his family's initial reluctance, his determination saw him through, marking the beginning of a journey filled with camaraderie, love, and a deep connection to the land. David embarked on his journey to Be'eri as a participant in the Youth Aliyah program. Yet, when asked about how he arrived at the kibbutz, his response was filled with his characteristic humour: "on the two-ten bus," he would say. His selection of Be'eri as his new home stemmed from a deep desire to experience independent life in a kibbutz that lay a great distance from his family home, seeking new experience and a fresh start. David seamlessly became part of the Aluma group, immersing himself in the dynamic and spirited life of Be'eri's kibbutz youth. Among his peers, he was affectionately known by the surname "Karol," yet, within the warmth of his family, he remained simply David. At the age of seventeen and a half, David joined the army, serving in Battalion 50 of the Nachal Brigade. Even in the disciplined environment of the military, his playful spirit shone through, endearing him to his comrades. Following his service, David returned to Be'eri, where he worked in carpentry. With great skill and love, he crafted shelves for plants and furniture, both large and small, for all who sought his expertise. However, the outbreak of the Yom Kippur War soon called him back into service. It was during this period of reserve duty that David was wounded by shrapnel in his hand, necessitating his evacuation to the hospital. In 1978, during a singles retreat organised by the Kibbutz Movement, David met Rivkaleh and her young daughter, Lior, then only two and a half years old. From their very first encounter, David embraced Lior with all the love and care of a true father. Motivated by a desire to build a life together, David and Rivka ventured to Kibbutz Gilgal in the serene Jordan Valley, seeking a neutral place where their budding family could flourish. After a year of growth and deepening bonds, they returned to Be'eri, where they got married. In 1982, David was blessed with the birth of Harel, the light of his life. Harel, a child brimming with mischief and joy, inherited David's profound love for all types of sports. Within the walls of the children's house, where he grew up, Harel was affectionately dubbed Rol-Rol, a nickname that soon extended to encompass all his classmates in Iris’ class, who were lovingly referred to as "Roolroolim." After honing his skills in carpentry, David discovered a new passion in the kitchen. While carpentry would always hold a special place in his heart, the art of cooking beckoned with its promise of creativity and warmth. Enrolling in a chef's course at Ruppin College, David embarked on a culinary journey. "How's the food?" he would ask, his eyes sparkling with anticipation for the feedback that would fuel his next culinary adventure. Even as he transitioned to printing, his love for cooking remained undiminished, prompting many to inquire when he would return to the kitchen, especially after tasting his delectable soups or the exquisite olives he delighted in sharing at the pub. In times of sorrow, David was always the one to offer comfort through the warmth of his cooking. In his tenure within the printing industry, David found himself adept in various roles, where his love for driving flourished as he undertook deliveries and errands, traversing the country. His dedication to the Thursday evening check trips remains a fond memory for many, as he generously offered late-night rides to friends and students eager for a weekend escape to the kibbutz, becoming a cherished link between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem and the kibbutz in the times when owning a car was a luxury. Following the separation from Rivkaleh, David found love again with Orly, with whom he built a long-term relationship. Together, they nurtured a family that grew not just in numbers but in bonds, with his children Lior and Harel standing as pillars of his pride. David revelled in Lior's adventurous spirit and her ability to spread joy through her dance, while Harel's passion for sports and his role as a youth instructor always delighted David. The arrival of his granddaughters, Leah and Romi, added so much happiness to David's later years as he embraced the role of a grandfather whose heart knew no bounds. His greatest joy was found in the moments spent with his granddaughters, whose very mention of "Baba" filled him with contentment. In 2017, his son Harel died of a severe illness. Karol gathered all his strength and decided to continue living joyfully despite the pain, sorrow, and longing. He clung to happiness where he could find it, like his daughter and granddaughters, his partner, and his family, and managed to enjoy performances, trips, beach outings, taking care of his home, gardening, and friends. A year ago, his son-in-law Erez died. Karol rallied to help Lior, encouraging her to choose life for the sake of those who remained. As always, he was there for her unconditionally. Karol radiated joy, embracing life and the people around him, making him a key figure in Be'eri's social scene. He was a familiar presence in the dining hall, especially during the morning gatherings where he would move from table to table, sharing his thoughts on everything that delighted or irked him. His love for singing was undeniable; each performance was met with enthusiastic applause. The sound of his laughter and the warmth of his friendly pats on the back brought everyone closer, making him especially beloved by children. Karol had a fondness for games of luck, such as the lottery, “Toto”, and “Rav Chance”. But he always used to say that the greatest luck of his life was right there - in the community of Be'eri. His life was taken at 72. May his memory be a blessing. Back 14.09.1951 - 07.10.2023 72 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Anola Retnianka Life Story Family and friends share their stories Anola was born in Kurunegala, a major city in Sri Lanka. She had two sisters and a younger brother. Her mother struggled with poverty and her grandparents stepped in to help raise Anola and her siblings. Anola was a quiet and considerate child, who loved animals and always helped others. Even as a child, Anola was deeply religious. She married at the age of 19 and had two children, a girl and a boy. When they grew older, Anola left Sri Lanka to work in Israel so she could pay for her children’s schooling. Today her son is a chef in New Zealand, and her daughter, Suno, is a student in Finland. Anola was 39 when she arrived in Israel. She worked in Ashkelon for about three years before moving to kibbutz Be'eri. At Be'eri, Anola cared for Aliza Goral for several years, and after Aliza passed away, she began working for Etty Mordo. Anola lived in Israel for nearly a decade, but she only allowed herself one extended vacation, a forty-five-day visit to Sri Lanka. Anola’s life on the kibbutz was good and peaceful. She was Etty’s eyes and ears, and they became fast friends. Etty describes a bond that went beyond language: “Anola spoke broken Hebrew, I spoke broken English, and we were very good friends.” Anola cared for Etty with sensitivity and a gentle smile. She became part of the family. Anola was a devout Buddhist. She set up a small shrine with a statue of the Buddha, which had jasmine flowers floating in a bowl of water that she kept fresh. She would pray there every morning and evening, and then pray several times more as she went about her daily activities. Anola collected donations for her Buddhist temple. She sent boxes of clothing and other items from the kibbutz’s second-hand shop to Sri Lanka. She would repair stuffed animals, washing and mending them before mailing them. She always added new toys and chocolate to those care packages. Once a month Anola sent money home to her children and family members. She also supported other members of her community, whether they were ill, unemployed, hungry, or needed school supplies for their children. Anola enjoyed cooking traditional Sri Lankan dishes, which she would share with friends and with Sujit, Chaim Zohar’s caregiver, who was a fellow Sri Lankan. Anola knew every jasmine tree on the kibbutz, and was familiar with all the different flowers and leaves: crepe jasmine at Gil and Camelia’s, moringa in Noah Hershkowitz’s garden. She planted a magnificent garden with the plants that she received from her friends on the kibbutz. Anola would tend to the plants while speaking on the phone with her children. Everything was green, vibrant and blooming. Anola had a strong connection to nature and animals. She regularly fed cats, dogs and birds. To her they were all equal souls in the world who needed tending to. She even cared for the neighbor’s elderly dog: changing its bandages, bathing and giving it haircuts. Her neighbor Ariel says, “The tiniest creature, the smallest plant, everything came to life around Anola; she had an inexplicable harmony with the world and the universe.” Anola eventually even got used to the missile attack sirens. Whenever the red alert would sound on the kibbutz, she urged Etty to go to the safe room, but Etty would always say, “My couch is my safe room.” On the morning of Saturday, October 7th, Anola sensed that the situation was unusual, and she insisted that Etty go into the safe room. They both did. Anola lay curled up on the bed; she must’ve known more about what was happening because she received information from her friends on the kibbutz. Etty sat on the other edge of the bed. The terrorists shot at the door handle and forced their way inside. They shot Anola twice. Etty fell and rolled underneath the bed. She would stay there for two and a half days. Terrorists entered and left the house several times. Etty could hear gunshots, motorcycles, and screaming. On Monday morning IDF soldiers came into the home, they found Etty and saw that Anola had been killed. Anola was forty-nine years old when she was murdered. She was a kind, generous, and modest woman, with a unique and inspiring capacity for unconditional generosity. She had deep love and compassion for the world and all living things in it. Suno, her daughter, says, “My mother Anola always thought of others before she thought of herself. She was the most amazing, loving, caring, beautiful, and most of all, the bravest woman I ever met.” May her memory be a blessing. Hesawa, her son: For my mother There are so many things I could say about my mother, but somehow, it is difficult to find words that feel enough. She was my mother, but she was also a huge part of the person I became. The love she gave me, the things she taught me, and the memories I have of her, are things that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. I wish I had been given more time with her. There are still so many things I would have liked to tell her, so many moments I wish I could share with her, and so many times I wish I could simply hear her voice again. Life has continued, and I have continued with it, but that does not mean she was left behind. She is still with me - in my memories, in the choices I make, and in the person I try to become. I hope she would be proud of the man I am becoming. Hopefully, in another life, I can meet you and pay all the debt that I'm not able to pay this life, and take care you when you grow old, mom. Mum, wherever you are, I love you, and I miss you. You will always be a part of me. Back 24.05.1974 - 07.10.2023 49 years old (Nursing Assistant)

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Yossi Aptalon Life Story Family and friends share their stories Yossi Aptalon began life as Sigmund (Ziggy) in 1946 in Semipalatinsk, Kazakhstan, the third child of parents Kuba and Vella, and brother to Nina and Aliza, his older sisters who loved him very much. The harsh conditions at the end of World War II forced the family to split up: his sisters immigrated to Kibbutz Ein Harod in Israel with the Youth Aliyah Movement. Ziggy remained with his parents in Poland. It was only when he was four years old that his parents managed to reach Eretz Israel and reunite with their daughters. At first, the girls lived on the kibbutz, while Ziggy and his parents lived in a transit camp in Motza in Jerusalem. Later, they moved to their own apartment on Donnolo HaRofe Street in Jaffa. Ziggy changed his name to Yossi, and Aptalon almost became Avtalion (an unsuccessful attempt to change the family name). Yossi spoke of a happy adolescence in Jaffa, and he faithfully maintained contact with some of his childhood friends throughout his life. In the army, Yossi served in the Kirya (Army Headquarters command center) as a wireless operator. There he met Roni, also a wireless operator and the most beautiful and popular soldier on the base. Roni says that the moment she saw Yossi, she knew he was the “one,” but because he was so very shy, she was actually the one who had to start the ball rolling. It was love at first sight, and the couple enjoyed Tel Aviv's nightlife, parties and spending time with their many friends. After his regular service, while Yossi was in permanent service, Roni and Yossi traveled with friends to Eilat – a fateful trip as they were both injured in a car accident that also included the loss of one of their friends. The recovery period was long and painful. Yossi lost a hand and had to learn to function in the world again. Throughout, they stayed together, supporting and helping each other, filled with optimism and devoid of self-pity. Once recovered, they got married and rented an apartment in Bat Yam, not far from the sea. They both began working in the printing and graphics field, eventually opening their own business. Their family expanded, and daughters Netta, Zohar and Adi were born. Roni and Yossi were both industrious and talented, and the business thrived, but they both felt that they were not making enough time for their daughters and family, and started looking for a change. They decided to explore new horizons: to leave the city and move to a kibbutz. In the 1980s, they came to Kibbutz Be’eri, which welcomed professionals in the printing industry. The couple brought with them a very valuable dowry: a Vari-Typer typesetting machine, the likes of which did not exist on the kibbutz. In addition to their technological and professional knowledge, they also brought their unique character to the kibbutz: Roni, fiery and sharp-tongued; Yossi, gentle and compliant. Both had a wonderful sense of humor and a great love of culture: cinema, literature and music. They passed this rich world on to their daughters and Tomer, their son, who had since been added to the family. Roni and Yossi felt that they had successfully combined their professional and ideological worlds with their love of family. Yossi invested many hours in nurturing his children's abilities in sports and music. He loved doing “wake-up duty” and going along on their annual trips. As a very loving and family-oriented man, Yossi made sure to maintain a personal and special connection with all four of his children, who live on the kibbutz, and with all his grandchildren: Shani, Amit, Hadas, Nahar, Gomme, Alin, Nir, Shahar, Maayan, Ella, Yoel, Omri and Gili. In the 1990s, Yossi decided to engage in community activities. He studied social work and got involved in education in the kibbutz. He took advantage of his social acumen to connect with every age group and to impart values to the young and adolescent generations. In the kibbutz, he took on new positions, such as "work coordinator," administrator of the member’s forum, and more. All the teenagers who met Yossi remember him with deep appreciation and affection. His ability to converse with everyone at eye level paved a path to everyone's hearts. Over the past decade, Yossi had become intensely involved in creating the kibbutz archives and documenting the histories of individuals, families and the kibbutz. He also made time to express his rich personal and artistic ideas through painting. Recently, he finished writing a book about his wife Roni, who died two years ago. Upon learning of his murder, his cousin Carmela said, "The world is a sorrier place since he left it... This wise, generous, loving, sensitive, ethical man will be deeply missed by his immediate family, his extended family, his kibbutz friends, his childhood friends, and the entire world. " May his memory be a blessing. Back 21.04.1946 - 07.10.2023 77 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Sylvia Ohayon Life Story Family and friends share their stories Sylvia was the daughter of the late Esther and Makhlouf. She was born in Dimona on August 13, 1954, the eighth of nine children. Georgette, Devorah, Danny, David, Nurit, Shimon, and Ayala were her older siblings, and Dahlia – her younger sister. The siblings were close in age and close with each other. Nurit was Ayala, Sylvia, and Dahlia's bodyguard. They called themselves the Twin Trio, a nickname they carried into adulthood. The kids would walk to school every day from their home on Masada Street to Afikim School, carrying “chocolate spread” sandwiches that their mother had prepared. They only split up when they had to go to their classes. The afternoons were spent out on the street, playing with friends. And there was lots of horsing around and happiness at home – the most memorable was jumping on a pile of mattresses with one of them tucked in underneath. Sylvia’s father wanted to be “as Israeli as can be.” He spoke neither French nor Moroccan with his children – only Hebrew. Their mother, who always had trouble with Hebrew, spoke to the kids in a mixture of the three languages. Despite the many hardships her parents faced, Sylvia did not grow up with a sense of deprivation. She saw her seemingly small world as vast and rich. Every night, in that small-vast world, she’d hear her father tell her mother about the things he’d learned that day from reading a book or the paper. Makhlouf believed in education and thought that his children would receive the finest education on a kibbutz, so, over the years, each child went to live in a different kibbutz. When she was 13, it was Sylvia’s turn to move out. She couldn’t find her place in the local middle school and moved to Be'eri, where she quickly became part of the place that seemed like paradise to her. She became part of the family of the late Mordechai and Meira Naveh (Meira died in 2000, Mordechai was murdered on October 7, 2023). Throughout this time, she maintained strong ties with her sisters. They constantly corresponded, each from the kibbutz where she lived, and arranged to meet at home in Dimona on weekends and holidays. Sylvia served in the IDF doing communication and encryption work. She made many new friends and maintained contact with them for years. Her friends called her Sulti because one day an announcement came over the PA system “Sultana Ohayon, come to….” Sylvia said, “Who would name their daughter Sultana?” when she remembered that Sultana was indeed her middle name – after her grandmother. After her discharge, Sylvia became part of the Be'eri community and workforce. She worked in the infants’ homes, the cowshed, garage, communal dining room, and most recently in construction and services. She learned the details of every place, became a professional in whatever she did, and did it with all her heart. That very special heart. When she worked in the office, she took bookkeeping classes. During her time in the kitchen, she discovered her interest in the culinary arts and studied pastry making, becoming an amazing cook and baker. She used the knowledge she gained from her studies at Camera Obscura to help kibbutz film productions. She had the gift of organization and production and contributed these to the community. She also painted and made jewelry. Sylvia was a sportswoman. She loved swimming and bike riding. She was mindful of good nutrition, and in recent years devoted more and more time to yoga. Yoga gave her a new, illuminated perceptive on the world, and, wanting to share it with others, she began training to become a yoga teacher. She never got to complete the course. In over four decades of life in Be'eri, Sylvia took only one year off. The kibbutz was her home, and she loved it. Kibbutz life was good for her, and she returned the good she received. But the lessons of her childhood were always with her. She insisted that the children learn that cheese and chocolate, that are “free” and unlimited, were a product of labor. Sylvia had a great talent for connecting to people and excelled at maintaining these connections. She was a warm and generous hostess, and often hosted her family – fifteen nieces and nephews and their eighteen children. Each one had time alone with her in the animal-petting corner on the kibbutz and in the annual celebration of the flowering of the desert – the red carpets of poppies and anemones. Each of them also got a ride on her electric scooter. Her nieces and nephews all treasure the photos they have of their fun days in Be'eri. She kept up a correspondence with all of them, and even before she herself became a mother – they would turn to her for advice. Eden, her daughter, was the love of her life. Eden was born in 1997, and Sylvia raised her practically alone, supported by the kibbutz. She dealt with Eden’s special difficulties without ever giving up. It was important to her that Eden have a relationship with her father and his new family, and to have her own warm relationship with Eden’s younger siblings. She knew, first hand, the power of strong ties. She taught her daughter everything – everything she knew and everything she believed. She was always there for Eden, and Eden was the last person with whom Sylvia spoke. On Saturday, October 7, when the siren sounded, Sylvia locked herself in her safe room, as did all the members of Be'eri. She was on the phone with her daughter and with her own sisters. Around 8:30 am, she said that she heard shots and people speaking Arabic. At 10:30 she told Eden, “Everything’s OK.” Then – the sound of a huge explosion, and the line went dead. It took over a week of uncertainty until Eden and the family were notified of Sylvia’s death. Sylvia smiled a lot. She overcame difficulties with kind words and laughter. She saw the good and humorous side of every situation. She was exceptionally generous, kind and welcoming. She loved life and enjoyed it. She will be remembered as she was – with a huge smile on her face. It was Eden’s request that she be buried in Dimona, alongside her parents. May her memory be a blessing. Back 13.08.1964 - 07.10.2023 59 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Sami Keidar Life Story Family and friends share their stories Sami was born in Tel Aviv in 1953, the eldest child of Rachel-Mina and Viktor Kardi – immigrants from Egypt who met in Israel. His sister, Suzi, was born when he was three and his younger brother, Avi, was born when he was seven – three siblings who enjoyed a warm and loving relationship. Their father, Viktor, worked as an orderly at Ichilov Hospital and Rachel-Mina worked in a textile factory. Sami went to the Magen elementary school in Maoz Aviv. He was a quiet, introverted child, an average student who did not particularly excel in academics, but he did stand out in Hatzofim, the Scouts. He was devoted to the group's activities and missed none. Even in high school, studying metalworking at the Shevach vocational high school, Sami would listen to the Friday night kiddush at home then head out to join his friends from Hatzofim - much to his father's chagrin. His second love was music. Sami particularly enjoyed the songs of The Beatles and played them on a guitar that he received as a present from his parents. He learned to play on his own because his parents didn't have the money to pay for lessons. He eventually switched to electric guitar and was a member of a band in Hatzofim. On graduation from high school, he continued into army service as a 'garin' in Nachal together with his friends from Hatzofim. When Sami was 20, his father passed away from a heart attack. Rachel-Mina started work at Bank Leumi and raised the children alone, serving as a model of emotional fortitude and spiritual strength. Her daughter, Suzi, remembers her as an 'iron lady' – "a redhead in looks and in spirit" – who let nothing stand in her way. Iron – as both a principle and a material – would play an important role throughout Sami's life. Sami and his Scouts group were sent to the El-Rom settlement, where he met Ofra and fell in love at first sight. He courted her for a full year until she accepted him, and the two were married in 1977. After the wedding, they moved to Tel Aviv and Sami began studying mechanical engineering at the Technion, commuting from Tel Aviv. Ofra, however, who grew up in Be'eri, wanted to return home. After less than a year in the big city, the couple moved to the kibbutz. Shortly after, their first child, Elad, was born. Oran and Yael were born several years later, a year between them – Oran in 1981 and Yael in 1982. Their three children live on the kibbutz to this day. They recall a warm and sensitive father, who hugged and kissed and listened – and always found solutions. He was, with all his heart and soul, a family man. The years when his children slept with the other kibbutz children were a misery to him. He wanted his children beside him. Sami began his professional career in the agricultural mechanization department. He repaired machines and constructed agricultural tools while completing his mechanical engineering degree at Ruppin College. Thanks to his training in metalwork and his hands of gold, he established the kibbutz vehicle body shop. Later, he would build the horse stables with his own hands, and - when the kibbutz decided to raise ostriches in the 1990s – Sami was the one who designed and built the fence, the cages, and the enclosures. It seemed like Sami was always building something, whether it was metal trailers for friends' bicycles, pergolas, or a three-person swing – which included a headrest, footrest, and folding trays for coffee. His hands also produced wooden toys for the kibbutz children. Oran and Elad remember how he would soak boards in the bathtub, to get them wet so they would become pliable. His sons also remember traveling with him once to Tel Aviv to buy materials with which he built a wonderful complete miniature city, with bridges and tunnels, for their electric trains. Sami built Chanuka menorahs using an innovative combination of metal and wood. He won first place in the annual kibbutz Chanuka menorah contest three times in a row. The fourth year, he was politely requested not to participate – because he always won! The large menorah which was used for the communal lighting was also his work. He had an innate talent and a creative mind. Every idea that Ofra would suggest would soon become a sketch on paper and a reality in wood and metal. When his daughter Yael broke her leg and struggled to get up the 15 steps to her home, Sami built a metal chairlift that rode on the railing, to make it easier for her. Needless to say, he did all the repairs at home. At work, Sami was a perfectionist. His exactitude led to a slower work pace that sometimes annoyed the others. When someone would complain, Sami calmly replied that he worked slowly – but precisely – so that no one would need to return for repairs. Many kibbutz members learned the secrets of metalwork from Sami – along with his dedication to precision. His children recall that he was not actually particularly eager to teach his own sons. They did, however, absorb the following iron rule: don't cut corners and do the job right. The introverted boy grew to be an introverted man. Sami was not a person who sought recognition or honors. He was also not a big conversationalist – but his work could be found throughout Be'eri. Quietly, humbly, forever giving, without drawing attention to himself. His devotion to his family was as steady as the buildings he built. His sister recounts how when their mother was ill, Sami traveled from Be'eri to Tel Aviv whenever she needed him, day or night, no matter when. Fifteen years ago, Sami became ill and his condition deteriorated to the point where he needed a home care aide. His eldest granddaughter, 17-year-old Argaman, had the privilege of knowing him as a busy man. Five further grandchildren knew a slightly different grandfather. Last Rosh Hashana, the whole family got together: children, grandchildren, sister Suzi from Tel Aviv and brother Avi from Portugal. None of them could have guessed that this would be the last time. Sami was murdered during the Hamas attack but left behind him an extraordinary legacy, both spiritual and material. The woodwork obviously did not survive the fire, but his metalwork can be found spread throughout Be'eri. On the outskirts of the kibbutz stand the ostrich farm and the horse stables that he built with his skillful hands, slowly but sturdily. His spiritual legacy remains as no fire can destroy it. Even now, at his gravesite, it is clear and rock steady: love for his family, unconditional giving, and the simple command - be a mensch. That was Sami Keidar. May his memory be blessed. Back 27.01.1953 - 07.10.2023 70 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Yona Cohen Life Story Family and friends share their stories Three members of three generations of the Cohen family—grandmother, son, and granddaughter, Yona, Ohad, and Mila—each had different birthdays, but they all died on the same day, October 7, 2023. Yona was 73, her son Ohad 43, and his daughter Mila was a baby not yet a year old. Yona was born in Jerusalem, the second child of Sami and Rosa Levy, sister to her elder brother Jacques and her younger sister Varda. She grew up on Agrippas Street, where her parents ran the well-known Sami restaurant. Her parents worked long hours outside the home. Yona and her siblings learned to be independent at a young age. In her childhood, she told her children, she was so thin that the wind would send her flying as she walked up Agrippas Street to school. Her family later moved to Tel Aviv, where Yona attended the Alliance Française school. She was a quiet girl and a hardworking and diligent student who loved to read. As a teenage athlete - she related - she could run as fast as her classmate, the future Israeli champion and Olympic sprinter Esther Shahamorov. After graduation, she enlisted in the Nahal Corps and, along with her high-school boyfriend, David, joined the “gar'in,” (the nucleus) - the collective of soldier-pioneers who founded Be’eri. They were married after completing their military service. The young couple began their life together in Petah Tikva, where their three sons were born—Itay, Ido, and Ohad. The members of the Be’eri gar'in refused to give up on Yona and David and entreated them to return. They did, in 1982. Ohad, the youngest son, found it difficult to get used to sleeping in the children’s house, and often ran away to his parents’ home at night. Yona considered leaving, but the family was swathed in the love of their old and new friends. It was that love that tipped the scale in favor of the kibbutz. The birth of their daughter Danielle, and the addition of Ro’i, for whom the Cohens became an adopted family after he arrived at Be’eri as a member of a youth movement detachment, expanded the family. There were now five children, four boys and a girl. The home was joyful and warm. Yona showered the family with Ladino endearments and was renowned for her skill as a cook and baker. Yona loved kibbutz life and the kibbutz loved her. She was a natural of the old school in her work with children, forming strong and loving ties with her charges that endured for years into their adulthood. For ten years, she and her good friend Hezi ran Be’eri’s procurements and disbursements of food and supplies, ending her term as radiant and beloved as on the day she began. Her next position was as a kibbutz bookkeeper. She loved the work and the people she worked with, and stayed on the job even after she retired, up to her final day. Yona was goodhearted and loved life, and had a broad and jubilant smile. She knew how to make everyone around her happy. Israeli and Greek music were a special passion; she and her brother Jacques liked to go to tavernas together. But more than anything else she enjoyed reading new books, getting up in the morning for a walk or a gym workout, going to plays and films, spending time with friends, and to travel around the world. She made frequent visits to her grandchildren and children overseas—Ido’s family: Ellen, Zoë, Anuk, and Eden; and Itay’s family: Keren, Ariel, and Eleni; and to her youngest, her daughter Danielle and Amir. And, of course, there were Ohad and Sandra, who lived on the kibbutz with their children Liam, Dylan, and little Mila, whom she saw almost every day. Yona valued family togetherness and was good at fostering it. Yona’s story is the story of the kibbutz. She never left when it was under attack. “If I die,” she told her worried family, “it will be here at home and not anywhere else.” With an optimism that now seems frighteningly naïve, she added: “And what can happen to us, really?” May her memory be blessed. Prayer - Avraham Chalfi I don’t know the words from which prayer is born. All words are lost to my voice, have become a mute darkness. But my eyes still see the spark in the eyes of a child, and my eyes still see: A star of unmatched brilliance, and worried-faced mothers steering their small ones to the light. What will be with them? What will be? Listen to their breathing joy in the spring, which seems as if it will never end. I will bow before the role of God even if he has vanished from my eyes. Do no wrong to the innocent, they do not know why lightning strikes a fruit-bearing tree. Do no wrong to the innocent. They do not know why man desecrates his image. I don’t know the words from which prayer is born. All words are lost to my voice, have become a mute darkness. Back 18.01.1950 - 07.10.2023 73 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Inbar Boyum Life Story Family and friends share their stories Inbar, the eldest son of Gil and Ayelet, was born on December 4, 2000 in Be’eri. He was a fair-haired baby, and the color of his hair suggested his name (“Inbar ” is “Amber” in Hebrew). But it wasn't only Inbar’s hair that was yellow. He was born with severe jaundice. It was a week before Ayelet and Inbar could leave the hospital for her parents' home in Sderot, where Inbar’s brit took place. Inbar's great-grandfather was the godfather. From the moment he was born, Inbar was engulfed in love. His father, Gil, used to take him for rides on the kibbutz tractors. He was the most sensitive child in the "Cocos" class; when a child in the kindergarten cried, Inbar would go up to the child and simply say, "I'm here with you." Up to the age of two and a half, Inbar ate everything, even zucchini. But as he grew up, he became a true carnivore. He loved steak. As a teenager, he enjoyed grilling tuna. He once did it on the roof of the house, and the whole family thought the house was on fire. That he was a bright boy was evident from an early age. He was intelligent and conscientious. He studied computers and physics, played soccer and practiced judo for years. Like Gil, Inbar loved music. His headphones seemed to be permanently on his head, even in class. He loved rap and black music, but also Ehud Banai. Inbar did a year of service at Kibbutz Magal. When he received an 82 Military Profile, he did what he could to raise it. He underwent surgery so that he wouldn’t have to wear glasses and began preliminary screenings to become a pilot, but his vision problems interfered. He decided to enlist in the Golani brigade, and after enlistment, he declared his intention to join a sayeret (special reconnaissance unit). The skinny boy became a medic in the Golani sayeret . To be the best, he would practice bandaging and other skills on his friends. From the moment he enlisted, he became a fitness freak. He would go to the gym in the base at two o'clock in the morning and also worked out on the kibbutz and in Sderot. The family was worried about his well-being and anxiously awaited his discharge. After his discharge, in April 2023, Inbar debated his next step and decided that he did not want to take on a job that required a long commitment. He was hired as a security guard at the EAPC (Europe Asia Pipeline Co) in Ashkelon. To be closer to work, he went to live with his grandmother, Simcha, in Sderot. The night before he was murdered, he sat with his mother and told her that he was contemplating studying medicine, but the seven years of schooling worried him. Ayelet told him that he would definitely succeed. Inbar was a big brother in every sense of the word, always protective and helpful. He would have heart-to-heart talks with his sister – about relationships, the army, and everything under the sun. When the four siblings were at home together, they liked to play games like Catan and Rummykub. They also loved going out, bowling and picnicking together. Ayelet called him "Mommy’s Prince." “The Royal Family" was the name of the family's WhatsApp group. He was always surrounded by friends – from the kibbutz, from the army. Inbar was handsome, a party man who loved get-togethers. He devoured life with gusto. Inbar had his first girlfriend already in third grade. He was a gentleman and charmed the ladies. He met his girlfriend Yuval about three months ago at "Hummus Shel Tahini" in Sderot, while meeting some guys he knew. The two discovered that they had the same tattoo, and from there sprouted a great love. It wasn’t long before he was considered a member of Yuval's family in Mabu’im. They started planning a trip to Thailand. Inbar loved tattoos. On his right hand he had the birth date of his late grandfather, Shimon, in Roman numerals. He also had tattoos of coconuts, for his kibbutz cohort (Cocos), an alien, spaceships, a paddle boarder, and also the icon of a rapper he loved. His aim was to add more and more. On October 7, 2023, after a 12-hour shift at work, Inbar was at Yuval's house. As soon as they heard what was happening in the area, Inbar told Yuval that he could not sit idly by and decided to go to EAPC, get weapons and return to defend his house in Be’eri. Yuval begged him to stay, but Inbar was determined and set off. At 7:34 am on Route 34 – almost the same moment his father Gil died – Inbar's phone died. In the words of David Grossman: "His gaze had just opened / but began to bloom. / It had just been given to me and immediately withdrawn ." On his finger, Inbar wore, as always, the black ring of his and his comrades in the commando unit. May his memory be a blessing. Back 04.12.2000 - 07.10.2023 22 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Tami Suchman Life Story Family and friends share their stories Tami was born on Kibbutz Kedma, the eldest child of Abba and Leah Barmak. Her birth came just two months after her parents had participated in the “11 Points” initiative, a settlement campaign that was aimed at establishing new communities in the northern Negev and carried out the night after Yom Kippur of 1946. Through their involvement, her parents became founding members of Kibbutz Kedma – one of the 11 settlements established that night. Tami arrived in the world at the end of January 1947, mere months before Israel's Declaration of Independence. Two years later, the family welcomed her baby brother, Udi. Losing her mother, Leah, at the age of 5, Tami raised Udi as if he were her son, and the two developed a tight and special bond. Shortly after Leah’s death, Tami’s father, Abba, married Hannah, with whom he had three children – Ada, and the twins, Vered and Nitzan. In 1962, after Kibbutz Kedma was abandoned, the family of seven settled in Be’eri. As a member of the second class of Be’eri youth (“Kitat Shalhevet ”), Tami emerged as an energetic, spirited and almost unruly teen, who instead of toeing the line somersaulted over it… In 1968, just over 20 and pregnant, she married 22-year-old Tzvi Suchman, who had joined the kibbutz as a "yeled hutz " (a child who came to the kibbutz from the city or elsewhere) and became a member of the first class of Be’eri youth (“Kitat Eshel ”). The joint wedding, along with another couple who married that day, was held in Be’eri. They named their firstborn daughter Ella, and a year and a half later, her younger brother Gidi was born. Soon thereafter they welcomed their son Ben, today the CEO of the famous Be’eri printing house. Twenty years after the wedding, Tami was pregnant again, giving birth to their youngest daughter, Gal. The Suchmans eventually divorced. Tami wasn’t known to be a particularly strict mother, often remarking to her children, “You brought yourselves up.” In her final years, witnessing her children grow into people she was proud of, she would tell them, “Looking at you, I realize I must have done something right after all.” Tami was famous for her nose for fashion and ability to spot the next big trend. She was the first woman in Be’eri to wear zippered jeans, and turned heads whenever she came back from a visit to Tel Aviv with a new pair of earrings. Coupled with a keen eye for quality and chic, Tami possessed the rare ability to identify trends just before they hit the mainstream. Stepping into a clothes shop, she could instantly pick out the most unique and original piece from a sea of thousands, and once she put it on, it wasn’t long before everyone started copying her. Her fashion sense was intertwined with her artistic spirit. In her youth, Tami excelled in sewing and design at Shenkar College, overcoming her previous academic challenges to shine as a dedicated and talented student. Upon her return to the kibbutz, she found her place as a school teacher, teaching various crafts including jewelry making, woodworking, and sewing. She also took on the role of homeroom teacher, and in her free time created her own gold and silver jewelry as well as clothing. In 1986, she was appointed head of Be’eri’s sewing shop, and with the same vim and vigor she applied to any project she took part in, she transformed it from a modest workshop into a successful factory. Tami led the Be’eri sewing shop for nearly three decades, and continued to contribute her expertise even after official retirement. Following her tenure at the sewing shop, Tami launched her own line of designer handbags, “Tamitik,” which she marketed to friends and acquaintances. Her handbags quickly became a hit, well-known among connoisseurs across the country. During the COVID-19 pandemic, she started sewing fabric face masks. She just couldn’t stay still. While still at the sewing shop, Tami began to study alternative medicine, becoming a practitioner of shiatsu, tui na and acupuncture. Her treatments were known for their gentle touch, providing both physical and spiritual healing. In the final years, she gave up practicing due to hand pain, but continued to offer valuable advice and recommendations for natural remedies for relaxation. Tami had a special relationship with each of her 12 grandchildren. She engaged with them on their level, becoming the go-to grandmother for cookies or when a shirt needed mending. A large part of her family lived nearby on Be’eri, enveloping her in love. Her father – affectionately dubbed “Sabba Abba” by the big Barmak tribe – lived nearly to the age of 100 on Be’eri, passing away four years before his daughter. Her home – overflowing with exquisite flowers, paintings and artwork – was a hub of family gatherings. Tami was the heart of these gatherings, in charge of orchestrating the birthday parties, writing the greeting cards and baking the cakes. During the Coronavirus pandemic, Tami and her sisters opened “BarmaCafé,” a communal coffee shop whose name playfully nodded to their maiden name, providing the people of Be’eri a much-needed social setting. Every Wednesday afternoon, the café opened its doors to the kibbutz members, serving coffee alongside the Barmak sisters’ homemade baked goods – lemon pie, meringues, chocolate chip cookies, orange cake, cheesecake and more. Tami, by then retired, was the driving force behind the initiative, spending her weeks purchasing products and preparing the kitchen for Wednesday’s baking. The guests were greeted at the café with a smile and slice of cake. With her unstoppable generosity, Tami dedicated herself to numerous volunteer activities. Among those she helped was Khaled, a resident of the Gaza Strip who worked as a construction worker in Be’eri before the First Intifada. When Khaled could no longer enter Israel, Tami initiated a campaign to collect donations from Be’eri residents to support his family in Gaza. The funds were gathered and transferred over the years, along with birthday cards and holiday greetings. Later, Tami volunteered at “The Road to Recovery,” a nonprofit organization that arranges transport for Palestinian patients from border crossings to Israeli hospitals for medical treatment. Every week, she would drive to Erez Crossing, pick up a patient from Gaza to their medical appointments, and then back to the border. When Khaled’s brother was diagnosed with cancer and hospitalized in Israel, Tami had the opportunity to pick up Khaled from the checkpoint and detour to Kibbutz Be’eri en route to the hospital, giving him a chance to reconnect with kibbutz members he hadn’t seen for years. On the morning of Saturday, October 7, 2023, Tami was at her home in Be’eri. When the Hamas terror attack began, she entered her safe room and called her family. As it became clear that terrorists had infiltrated the kibbutz, her son Ben, who lived nearby, instructed her to hold the safe room's door handle to keep them out. Tami gripped the handle with all her might, until she felt she was about to pass out and sat down for a moment’s rest. A short while after, still on the call, her son heard the terrorists breaking into the safe room and taking Tami. At first, the family thought she had been kidnapped to Gaza, but ten days after the attack her body was identified, dashing all hopes to see her alive again. May her memory be a blessing. Back 26.01.1947 - 07.10.2023 76 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Vivian Silver Life Story Family and friends share their stories Vivian was born in the middle of nowhere, or so she referred to Winnipeg, Canada. Minus 40 degrees in the winter, plus 40 degrees in summer. Her grandparents came from Eastern Europe; her parents Meir and Rosalyn were both born in Canada. Their children, Vivian, Neil and Rachel, were all born in Canada. The family was a typical Jewish one, with the usual pressures, but Vivian herself was an unusual child. She was apparently a good girl and an outstanding student in school, and she also played piano. She enjoyed being in the limelight – Vivian belonged to a drama club. Her mother signed her up for a screen test and after she passed it, Vivian became a child actress for 8 years. During this time, she appeared on the stage in musicals and also appeared in TV dramas and commercials. As an adolescent, she belonged to the B’nai B’rith movement, and in twelfth grade she became president of the B’nai B’rith in her city. By this time, her pleasant but uncompromising personality was clear to all. Vivian began studying literature and psychology at university, and received a grant to spend a year studying at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. It was only when she returned to Canada that she realized her affinity to Judaism had moved from religion to Zionism. She remained active in Jewish Zionist movements until the end of her studies and fought anti-Israel propaganda. Through this, she met other young people from the New York branch of the Habonim movement, who were forming a group to make Aliyah to a kibbutz in Israel. In 1972, Vivian moved to New York and joined the commune. This was an extremely meaningful time for her: Vivian was very active in Habonim, in founding the feminist Jewish movement and also preparing the group for their move to Kibbutz Gezer. Vivian married Marty, a member of the group, in New York. Together they made Aliyah to Israel in 1974. Marty returned, Vivian remained a member of the kibbutz for 16 years. Naturally, she was an active and involved member, the first woman in a number of roles traditionally given to men, such as kibbutz secretary and construction coordinator. It is no surprise that in 1981, she founded the department for the advancement of gender equality in the kibbutz movement. This was no easy struggle. Vivian edited a pamphlet of articles on the subject and then distributed it throughout the kibbutz movement in order to heighten awareness about this painful and hitherto unspoken topic. During this period of time, Vivian met Lewis Zeigen, a member of Kibbutz Gesher HaZiv. Lewis joined Vivian at Kibbutz Gezer and they had two children, Chen and Yonatan. In 1990, the family moved to Kibbutz Be'eri. Vivian and Lewis once again had to find their own place there. Lewis worked in the dairy and later joined the printing business. Vivian was responsible for construction and then she received an offer she could not refuse: to become executive director of the Negev Institute. This was the beginning of an exciting and new career that lasted 15 years, perfectly suited to Vivian. It was so well aligned to her belief that social change was possible in areas close to her heart: feminism, peace, coexistence with Palestinians outside of Israel, and with Arabs and Bedouin within it. The work she carried out for both the Negev Institute and for AJEEC was a mission for her: the creation of a social fabric of integration and cooperation, developed out of actual onsite activities, taking small, methodical and precise steps. Vivian was also a dedicated member of the kibbutz: a member of the secretarial committee, and active on other committees. Together with other kibbutz members she founded Tzemach, a team dedicated to the kibbutz’s social involvement. She also drove Palestinians to hospitals in Israel as part of the Road to Recovery organization. She was one of the founding members of Women Wage Peace, a member of the board of B’Tselem, and an active member of an array of other peace initiatives: Other Voice, Hamigdalor, and several others. She referred to herself as a conditional Zionist: She supported the existence of a national homeland for the Jewish people as long as it enabled the realization of national identity and a secure and respectful life for the Palestinian nation. Aside from all their public activities, Vivian and Lewis maintained a special relationship. Louie was a homebody, whereas Vivian was a woman of the world and they both loved and respected their different ways of life. They also had different notions of parenting. Vivian accepted with love Louie’s two elder children, Josh and Dina, and she treated all the children – big and small – as adults in the making. As in all aspects of her life, in her role as mother, Vivian tried to learn from every challenging situation, and to make the most of it. The family grew and grandchildren were born. Vivian declared herself “a very proud grandmother”. She made elaborate birthday cakes, gave the grandchildren a subscription to the Philharmonic, and went to visit the grandchildren, wherever they were. Through the years she maintained close contact with her family, and her journeys to Canada and the US were a substantial part of the family’s life. Throughout her life, Vivian managed to forge brave social bonds. On the kibbutz, within the movement, at AJEEC, in Rahat and Gaza, in all these places she found soulmates, and she sowed cooperation and hope everywhere. Even in the safe room, that Shabbat, she kept in touch with all her friends, and she had many. It appears she knew what was happening around her, because she wrote to her children: “We may be witnessing a massacre. Without being funny, I’m telling you how much I love you all, and how blessed I am to have you.” Vivian lived with the belief and hope that one day there would be peace because she felt it was impossible to keep living like this. She devoted her life to founding organizations that promoted the agenda she had dedicated herself to when she was 19: feminism, peace, the sisterhood of nations. She was murdered in a ghastly outburst of hatred, cruelty and destruction. She was 74. May her memory be blessed. Back 2.2.1949 - 07.10.2023 74 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Haim Zohar Life Story Family and friends share their stories Haim Zohar was born in Teheran (Iran) on November 29, 1950 to Victoria and Shmuel, the third of seven children. When Haim was seven years old, the family immigrated to Israel. At first, they settled in Hatzor Haglilit, and after a short time they moved to Kfar Saba. Victoria worked as a cook in Meir Hospital, Shmuel for the municipality, and the whole family faced the hardships of absorption, language acquisition and, most of all, the quest for belonging, which was crucial in Haim’s life and a success due to his sociable character, sense of humor and kindheartedness. When he was fifteen years old, Haim came to Kibbutz Be’eri as Yeled Hutz (a child from a family not from the kibbutz), and here he found his home. The Aluma group, to which he belonged together with other boys and girls who came to the kibbutz without family, became his family. An everlasting bond was forged between the young people. Their lives were bound together and they shared a common language, formative experiences, and most of all the same thing Haim was looking for: belonging. The boys and girls learned and worked together, while they became acquainted with the different branches of the kibbutz, under the supervision of Weksler, their teacher. In the army, Haim served with the paratroopers. He fought in the War of Attrition and on the southern front in the Yom Kippur War. He didn’t talk much about his experiences in the war, and as soon as the war ended, he devoted himself to his work in the kibbutz. About his beginnings he told in the simple and casual way that characterized him, with a little smile: ‘One day I saw Motke Manor on a moped and I said to him: “Let me ride a bit.” Motke said: “Only on condition that you work as a plumber.” I have a weakness for mopeds, and so I ended up working as a plumber for two years before I moved to printing.’ He followed the growth of the printing house with pride, and saw how it became a source of comfort and economic security for the members of the kibbutz. During the time that the Israeli pound was replaced by the shekel the printing machines worked almost 24 hours a day, and Haim with them, around the clock. Haim held different positions, until he found his niche as the driver of the printing house. Every day he got up at five and drove to many places all over the country to deliver the goods. The baguette with pastrami that he ate between his rides made his day, he used to say. He stayed patient and friendly even under stress, and it was evident that he took pride in the printing house even when he answered angry customers, simply and straightforwardly: our printing house may sometimes make mistakes, but other printers make more. Sometimes, after he had finished his tasks, he collected his daughter Nitzan from the army base and on their way home they listened together to ‘Magic Moments’ on the radio and sang Elvis Presley and Paul Anka. On other occasions he visited his mother in Kfar Saba. When he was 31 years old, he attended a meeting for singles in the Argaman Hotel in Acre, where he met Erga, a member of Kibbutz Dalia. During this first meeting, Erga noticed that Haim was nice and relaxed, and she was impressed by the way he talked, by his pleasant attitude and his tenderness. She still remembers how he laughed and told stories, and how she noticed that people liked to be in his company. Their relationship started with talks on the telephone, and later on was deepened by meetings in person – when Haim, being the driver of the Kibbutz Movement, stopped by to visit her in Kibbutz Dalia, or she traveled by bus to visit him in Be’eri. When Haim asked for her hand, Erga accepted. After their honeymoon trip across the United States the young couple settled in Dalia in order to be close to Erga’s family, and there their first daughter Adi was born. For a while, the family moved back and forth between the two kibbutzim, but in the end they settled in Be’eri, where Nitzan and Dan were born. Haim, who longed for his comrades, for the way of life and most of all for the feeling of home in Be’eri, was happy that his children would grow up in this home, which he had earned through work and love. Although he had left his parental home at an early age, Haim had learned to cook the dishes of his mother and he prepared for Erga and the children salads of chopped vegetables, Persian rice and gondi. (As far as cleaning and tidying up after cooking he was far less proficient.) On Saturday evenings, when the dining room was closed, the family used to have dinner together around a table full of dishes that Haim had prepared. On other evenings Haim sat around the table with his friends Itzik, Udi, Meni, Jako and Calderon, reminiscing, telling each other stories that they had heard and told already dozens of times, and laughing over and over again. Over the years, the group of friends expanded, including the families that each of their children had started, and they spent their vacations together, in tents on the beach. Haim liked to watch the news while munching sunflower seeds, black ones, white ones, and actually anything one could munch. He loved crosswords, chess and Trivial Pursuit. One could rely on Haim. He always took care of kibbutz members who were having trouble and supported people who needed his help. He paid special attention to elderly people, whom he visited often. He listened to their stories and shared with them what was going on. The members describe him as a tender person in a big body, who lent an ear to others and inspired his surroundings with patience and gentle manners. Haim was a warm and embracing father, tender and generous, who supported and cared and made sure their children would lack nothing. In the mornings he always woke them up in peace and quiet, which also meant a little wink towards Erga, who was always in a hurry and was keen not to be late. So, he always went from Adi to Nitzan and from Nitzan to Dan, and woke them up by rubbing their feet, transferring through his hands his gentleness and calm. Haim waited impatiently to become a grandfather and managed to enjoy it, but only for a short time, mainly with his firstborn grandchild Yonatan, followed by Yuval, Daniel and Libi. In the past few years Haim suffered from dementia. Erga cared for him with love and dedication, together with the caregivers Sigi, Sugi and Fernando. Erga didn’t try to hide the malady and insisted on holding on to life as much as possible. Even when Haim could barely speak anymore, his eyes showed that he understood, was alert and remembered. Haim was murdered in the morning of October 7, in the kibbutz where he had found his home. In the same terrible morning his best friends Meni and Itzik were murdered as well. Sugi, who had cared for Haim the past few months, is still missing. Haim left behind his wife Erga; his children Adi, Nitzan and Dan; and his grandchildren Yonatan, Yuval, Daniel and Libi. He was 72 years old at his death. May his memory be blessed Back 29.11.1950 - 07.10.2023 72 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Rafael (Rafi) Mordo Life Story Family and friends share their stories Rafi Mordo was born in Tel Aviv on November 28th, 1938, less than a year before the outbreak of the Second World War, and was destined to live a life full of twists and turns. A truthful speaker, often painfully so, generous in deeds, economical in words. His father, Menachem, was born in Corfu, Greece, from where the rest of the family would be taken to the Nazi death camps. His mother, Rosa, was from Italy. He said little about his childhood, but he was a mischievous child, and at the age of eight, he paid a heavy price for it: during a game in which participants threw a knife or dagger into the ground to demarcate land areas, a dagger ricocheted back towards him and he lost his left eye. Rafi typically refused to pity himself and boasted until his last day that despite his one good eye, he never received a traffic ticket. He loved driving. He was the second of four children. His sister, Racheline, is still with us. His younger brother, Yitzhak (Chaim), fell in 1961 as a paratrooper, a loss he never forgot. Only last April, he wrote on the IDF fallen soldiers' website: "Years have passed since you left, but your image is engraved in my heart, my little brother." The youngest in the family, Rivka, was perhaps the closest to him. A traditional Greek – beautiful and vibrant – she died of cancer, which greatly saddened him. At the age of 14 or 15, he came to Be’eri as a member of a Youth Aliyah group. In the kibbutz, Rafi found a home he would never leave. He was a handsome youth who would grow into an impressive man. He rarely spoke about his military service, except for one anecdote: in a rookie tent where he slept, there was a guy who was taken from there to a military band whose name happened to be Arik Einstein. Rafi participated in the Six-Day and Yom Kippur Wars, but he never talked about it. After the army, he returned to the kibbutz and married Etti, who was in the original Youth Aliyah group that came to the kibbutz. Kibbutz life and manual labor suited Rafi. He worked initially in auto mechanics and later in the Be’eri print shop. He was diligent, respected, and loved his work very much. His golden hands built beds and cupboards for many kibbutz members. Within a few years, Tmira and Sapir were born. From Tmira, who still lives on the kibbutz, he had three grandchildren – Roy, Gil, and Tomer, with Roy and Tomer still living in the kibbutz, and Gil living in Germany providing him with his first great-grandchild – 6-year-old Vega. Sapir moved to the United States, where he had two daughters - Alex and Inbar. Rafi and Etti were married for thirty years. Rafi was a caring and devoted family man. For a relative or friend, he would do everything, but always in his unique way: straightforward and speaking his mind. "He could get up from lunch, leaving it behind uneaten, to drive someone who had asked for help." The balance between loyalty and criticism was also evident in his attitude towards the kibbutz. Every day he argued about the implications of privatization, complaining vigorously about the value members receive from their taxes, but he always remained a Be’eri member. He was also never concerned with the security situation in the area. In his later years, his caregiver, Tzionah, a resident of Netivot whom he greatly appreciated, helped him. At the age of 85, Rafi was not considered a nursing-care candidate, and her support for him focused on laundry, company, and help walking to the dining room, where he met Tmira every day at exactly 11:30. Tzionah also had his last phone conversation with him. He told her that his neighborhood had been attacked and terrorists had broken into the house. Rafi was critical and stubborn, but he was the first to stand by someone in distress. His life was characterized by complex romantic and family relationships comprising toughness, tenderness and a strong need for intimacy. He was critical but also committed in an unbounded way to others. Diligent, stubborn, talented, and possessing golden hands. May his memory be blessed. Back 28.11.1938 - 07.10.2023 84 years old