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Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Shachar Zemach Life Story Family and friends share their stories Shachar was a third-generation kibbutznik: the eldest son of Doron and Shlomit, grandson to Ya'akov and Carmela Zemach, veterans of Be'eri who immigrated to Israel from Baghdad, and to Hannah and Yoel Epstein, born in Germany and members of Kibbutz HaMa'apil. They were an idealistic family. Doron spent ten years on Kibbutz Gilgal, and Shlomit spent five years on Kerem Shalom, assisting younger kibbutzim. When they met, they lived for a year on Kibbutz HaMa'apil and after a year, they decided to make their home in Be'eri. Doron worked in accounting, and Shlomit in the dental clinic, both of them active and engaged kibbutz members. Over the years, Shachar’s three brothers Yarden, Itai, Ido, and his sister Shai were born. A warm and loving family, they especially nurtured the bonds between the siblings, all of whom lived on the kibbutz. It seems that the family history greatly influenced Shachar's path in life. Shachar was not a strong child, but he was independent and opinionated. He grew up in Naomi Mocha's "beit yeladim" (the children's house) who earned the nickname Naomi Nescafe, and from there to kindergarten and "Kitat Petel". Shachar knew how to divide his energy between his studies and his social life. He was technical-minded, loved physics, but loved hanging out with friends just as much. It was a cohesive group, full of humor and fond of pranks. Shachar had a biting and cynical sense of humor, and his quips were an integral part of the classroom atmosphere. As a teenager, he worked at the petting zoo, did milking shifts in the dairy, and loved horseback riding. At the end of his studies, he felt the need to contribute what he could, and was accepted to Nitzana for a third-year service program. He saw himself as an instructor, a skill that was also utilized during his military service. He enlisted in pilot training, and after a few months he joined the Nahal's reconnaissance unit. The training course was relatively long, and a special group formed that stayed in touch long after they were discharged. Shachar became a squad commander on the course, without being an officer. He added a weekly study session to the military curriculum that he delivered meticulously, on both serious and less serious topics, such as a tutorial on types of coffee. During his military service, he served in the West Bank for an extended period, where his political awareness greatly developed. He was a committed leftist, and later took part in "Breaking the Silence", voted for "Meretz", and was active in elections. After completing his military service, Shachar returned to the kibbutz and worked at the printing house for about a year. He then began traveling. In the US, he drove an ice-cream truck; in Europe he was a security guard at a castle owned by the Safra family, and in South America he went rafting and broke his arm. When he returned from the trip, he was already focused on his studies. He completed his high-school equivalency and psychometric exams, and began his undergraduate studies in economics, politics, and government at Ben-Gurion University. Here too, he combined his social life with his studies. He lived in the Dalet quarter, organized public outdoor singalong evenings with beer, and at the same time, wrote political op-eds for different websites. While pursuing his master's degree in economics, he also wrote articles on the topic of retirement pensions, his area of expertise, and lectured at academic conferences. During his studies he met Ofri; they moved in together in Tel Aviv, where he worked at an economic-strategic consulting firm. After a year, he began working in the Accountant General’s Office at the Ministry of Finance in Jerusalem, specializing in pension funds. As usual, he was fully invested in his work and approached it seriously and professionally. Shahar's and Ofri's wedding was held in Be'eri's "Zula", in a civil ceremony whose text Shachar and Ofri wrote together with their friends. A few months later they moved to Be'eri. Shachar continued to work in Jerusalem, while Ofri managed a branch of the Enosh Association in Kiryat Gat. About three years later, their eldest daughter Ella was born. Shachar participated in the birth and was as steadfast and protective as a bodyguard. When Ella was a year old, Shachar accepted an offer to become CFO of the Be'eri printing house, leaving behind his promising career path in Jerusalem. He enjoyed his new role and saw himself developing in the printing business. Meanwhile, the small family moved into a larger apartment, and Shachar managed the renovation with great pleasure. When Neta was born, Shachar was already an experienced father, and Ofri adds: "a perfect dad," talking to the children as equals. Together they would go on trips, driving in a jeep or by bike, especially to Nahal Sakhaf which passes between Be'eri and Gaza, where water flows in winter and the almond trees bloom white. Together they picked figs and strawberries, and Shachar made jam from them. He loved to run in the Negev, training for the marathon, which he completed for the first time in 2022 and intended to do again. He used to run through the fields for two to three hours, with the music he loved in his headphones - Simon & Garfunkel, Tislam, and "The Boss" Bruce Springsteen - up to the Gaza fence and back. Shachar was a man of many friends, maintaining multiple social circles. He loved watching Liverpool or Maccabi Haifa games together, playing football in kibbutz and regional council tournaments, going out into the field and lighting bonfires, making potjiekos or simply preparing tea outdoors. He volunteered to manage the kibbutz's hiking gear storeroom, purchasing equipment and keeping precise records and close track of the items that had been loaned out. Friends say he was the ultimate combination of seriousness and light-heartedness. In the morning he'd wear a finance manager's suit, in the evening he'd light a bonfire with the kids, and once they were in bed, he'd invite his friends over for a hookah session. A serial entrepreneur: always inviting people to travel, see and do something together. He was a man who loved freedom, joy, and humor. He could quote The Big Lebowski or Catch-22 and wrote song parodies for every friend who got married. He loved to hang out, and was the ideal partner for long sessions at good restaurants. In the Kitat Tapuach-Petel, they knew that if they played strategy games, when it was Shachar's turn, he would deliberate for so long that you could go and make a coffee in the meantime, but under other circumstances he was the quickest and most assertive. On the night before Black Saturday, the Tapuach-Petel gang sat down to plan their third guys' trip. Shachar decided the trip would be to France, informed everyone, and as usual, fell asleep first on the chair. The next morning, Shachar was rushed to the rapid response team. His conduct that Black Saturday typified who he always was: a leader and determined, knowing exactly what needed to be done. He arrived at the casualty collection point in the kibbutz's dental clinic and fought from there, instilling confidence in everyone who fought alongside him. He requested from the IDF to bomb near the playground in Be’eri because there were many terrorists there, but his request wasn’t approved. While fighting, he phoned Ofri and asked her to lock the house. He shouted to the terrorists in English, "I’m not your enemy." He fought until the final bullet. Shachar loved life, loved people, was optimistic and brave, and saw every challenge in life as an opportunity. This is how we will remember him, and how we will continue telling his story to his children, Ella and Neta. May his memory be a blessing. Back 17.04.1984 - 07.10.2023 39 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Eviatar (Tari) Kipnis Life Story Family and friends share their stories Tari was born on February 24, 1958, in Kibbutz Ma’agan Michael. His father, Doron (Donny) Kipnis, was a native of Tel Aviv who came with the Israeli Scouts to Ma'agan Michael to establish the kibbutz. His mother, Ofra, immigrated to Israel from Tunisia. He was a brother to Avner (Kippi), who is eleven years older than him, to Guy, who is five years older than him, and Zefra, who is a year and a half younger than him. Tari grew up in the old-fashioned communal children's house and could easily connect with people. He would call out to the guard of the children’s home in the wee hours of the night: “Hey sleepy heads, come play with me, blow up a balloon for me.” Even if they were tired, the guards couldn’t say no to him. So they would get up to spend time with him. Tari had a lazy eye, which made him stand out. From the age of three, he alternated between wearing glasses and an eye patch. He was remembered as someone who walked around the kibbutz with his head always tilted slightly up, as if he were trying to read the world. As a very active child, he didn’t care much for formal studies at school, but he absolutely loved the sea. The older he got, the more that love grew. As for that eye, it must have been the only lazy part of his body. After all, Tari was always busy and knew how to do almost anything with his talented hands. The strong handshake, which was his trademark, attested to that fact. As a boy, when the sea was the center of his world, he was an initiator and a guide, bringing excitement and life to any event, no matter what setting: camps, cruises, training, rowing, and diving. At the same time, Tari worked in various branches of agriculture. He was always loved by children and was naturally accepted as a leader. He always endorsed peace and reconciliation, avoiding quarrels, disputes, and harm. Upon his enlistment in the IDF, he was assigned to the Armored Corps, but he persisted, as only Tari knew how to persist, until he joined the Navy. From there he fulfilled his dream: becoming a naval officer. Tari arrived at the long-awaited naval officer course with his “brother” from the kibbutz, the late Oren Linder, who was a charismatic leader himself. All the way from Ma’agan Michael to that course, Oren and Tari were born, grew up, dreamed, and fulfilled their dream together. Tari had a quiet, introverted leadership style. He would be the first one under the stretcher, without question, always true to the task. He was the one you could trust, and with whom any task could be executed successfully. Tari turned out to be a real sailor, as well as a professional in anything he did, such as being a skipper, kayaker, and diver. The sea surely carries many of Tari's secrets, but there was that one night, which none of his teammates could forget, when two weapons sank into the middle of the sea and Tari did not give up until he managed to find them. Along with those weapons, which he drew out of the sea, Tari also acquired the honor of finishing with the 19th class of naval officers. From there, he went on to study goldsmithing at Bezalel which, at first, he did not choose, but eventually he embraced this field as if it was his decision. He took much pride in his thesis: a series of kitchen knives that garnered him much praise, even from Chef Israel Aharoni, who used them until their last sharpening and then asked for more. The sea was also Tari's groomsman: on one of the many voyages he went on, after his release from the army, he met Lilach, and they fell in love. They built their shared home in 1993 on Kibbutz Be’eri. Their two sons were born there: Yotam and Nadav. Tari transitioned from goldsmithing to repairing old watches, becoming the person to turn to for anyone who had something in their possession that required special or painstaking repair. He later worked at the kibbutz printing house, leading the implementation of the most up-to-date equipment which contributed to perfecting the work flows and capabilities of the printing house. After completing his master's degree in sustainability at the University of Haifa, he dedicated himself to environmental issues, as part of his role as a "community manager" — first in Be’eri, then in Kfar Azza as well as in Kibbutz Zikim. He was deeply enthusiastic and curious, always wanting to explore and learn more and more. He expected the same from his boys, Yotam and Nadav, whom he sometimes challenged with character-building questions, trying to find what interests them, and also encouraging them to find the answers on their own and in their own way. He had acquired vast knowledge on his own, which he shared generously. You could ask Tari any question on any subject and in any field. He was a walking encyclopedia, knowledgeable about the heavenly bodies, nature, and everything in between: When will the moon rise? How does a lock work? What did Darwin discover in the Galapagos? How do you know the speed of light? He was a man of principles, who knew how to stand up for his opinions and say them directly and sometimes with a lack of tact that could lead to embarrassment. Nevertheless, his integrity and natural curiosity along with his warmth and love aroused sympathy and many smiles. On the kibbutz, he was active in the Residential Emergency Team (“Tzachi”), and in various committees, such in the Growth & Development Committee, where he took on an important role supervising the donations to associations that he thought needed help. He volunteered at the "Pa'amonim" [Bells] NGO, becoming a coordinator who helped many people organize themselves and conduct their personal affairs in practical and financially responsible ways. Tari had no hobbies because whichever field he dove into, he became a professional: for example, after discovering a new interest in coffee, he quickly became an expert, who could identify varieties, types, growing and roasting methods and, of course, he planted two coffee trees near his home. The home that Tari and Lilach built was warm, open, and inviting. Friends from different periods of their lives came all year round, including, of course, the traditional winter gathering with the friends from the Navy and their families, when everyone would enjoy lying in Be’eri’s famous patches of red anemone flowers. People would come from around the country — including from the surrounding settlements, Rahat, the Bedouin settlements, and West Bank villages — to see those beautiful wild flowers. Majda, a resident of Hebron, was adopted by Tari and Lilach into their circle and, under her leadership, they organized workshops for making stuffed vine leaves, satisfying all of the residents of Be’eri. Tari was a man of peace, who believed in sharing life: he once donated a special treatment bed to a hospital in Gaza. He was an atheist, abiding by a religion of respect, doing, and giving to others. His heart was open to everyone. In the last eight years, he suffered from an autoimmune disease. Despite his physical weakness, Tari connected with the strength of the soul within him. His characteristic handshake did not weaken, though his spirit was diminishing. Tari did not give up on his dreams and even managed to go as part of a research expedition to Antarctica. Even when the help of his devoted caregiver Paul was needed, Tari continued to volunteer as a guide for a group of at-risk youth, and went out to sea with them in kayaks. At the same time, he insisted on continuing to help with bicycle repairs at the local shop and, when people would come to the south to see the wildflowers, he would help the kibbutz youth run a hummus stand. He loved children and children loved him. Members of his extended family, especially the youngest ones, were drawn to him like a magic wand. They sat on his lap, hoping to receive his attention, which he shared generously. Tari also found his way back to art. He set up a studio in his home, where he painted beautiful images of nature, animals, and people. Most of these paintings survived the fire. In the last months before his murder, he watched classic movies with his family, and spent quality time in their company as they recalled past experiences. About a month before the attack, he sailed with Lilach and his sisters on a cruise through the French canals. They returned from that trip exactly a week before his murder. During the trip, Tari was grateful to the people around him for what was given to him, especially for the joy of being together. He appreciated every glass of wine, every song, conversation, and meeting. Tari was happy about the quality time he spent with his loved ones. Tari hoped to find a cure for his disease and continue with his plans. He was dedicated to his recovery, working every day to get stronger. But it was not the disease that conquered Tari. After long, difficult, and nerve-wracking days of uncertainty, Tari's body was identified. The body of Paul, the devoted caregiver who lived with Tari and Lilach, was found days earlier. As these lines are written, Tari's love, Lilach, is still missing and classified as a hostage. His friend from the naval officer course, Danny Goldbaum, wrote: "Eviatar Kipnis was a sailor, skipper, professional, man of learning, smart, loving husband, family man, volunteer, strong man, diver, kayaker, coffee lover, with many hobbies, and beloved." May his memory be a blessing. Back 24.02.1958 - 07.10.2023 65 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Avshal Haran Life Story Family and friends share their stories Avshalom Haran, whom everyone called Avshal, was born on June 15, 1957, in the Borochov neighborhood of Givatayim. He was the first child of Ruth and Chaim Hertzman. His parents named him as a combination of the names of Ruth's father, Ze'ev, and Chaim's brother, Shlomo. When he was one year old, the family moved south to the settlement of Tidhar, and two years later, they relocated to Be'er Sheva. From there, they moved to the young community of Omer, and Avshal, already a teenager, continued his studies at the "Makif High School Dalet" in Be'er Sheva. Ruth recounts that in his childhood, he was very playful. Until ninth grade, he still made an effort to study, but in high school, he realized that he preferred to spend most of his time with friends and going on adventures. The teachers, on their part, complained to his parents that "the boy was not fulfilling his potential". Regardless, during that period, he gathered together a close circle of friends who maintained contact over the years and were nicknamed "the Be'er Sheva group." He began his military service in the Nahal brigade, in Garin Horshim, and after continued in the Armored Corps. After his discharge, he pursued studies in agricultural economics at the Faculty of Agriculture in Rehovot, where he met Shoshan HaBaron, a member of Kibbutz Be'eri. Few believed that the relationship between the diligent, hard-working student and Avshal, who was the complete opposite, would last, but they were sorely mistaken. After their studies, the couple went on a year-long trip to the Far East and the United States. During one of their treks on a volcano in the Philippines, sporting his fashionable mustache of those days, he proposed to her. The wedding took place in the winter of 1984 when the two had already established their home in Be'eri. Initially, Avshal worked in field, but it quickly became clear to him and his managers that he would be more beneficial in the marketing department of the printing house. Indeed, he left the potatoes behind and advanced rapidly in the new department until he was appointed Vice President of Marketing. Concurrently with his work, he studied for a master's degree at Tel Aviv University, completing it in 1996. After his tenure at the printing house, he was elected as "m'rakez meshek" (economic coordinator) of Be'eri, and later as the CEO of Mishkei Na'Kibbutzim (the Kibbutz Holdings Group). In this role, he pushed for the completion of "Dalia Energy" - Israel's largest private power station, promoted the activities of the "To'am" shipping company and "Agricultural Insurance," and was one of the initiators and founders of "Kibbutz Energy," which is a major economic asset of the kibbutz movement. In 2016, he decided to retire from managing Mishkei HKibbutzim, explaining that Be'eri needed him more and returned to the kibbutz to be the economic chairman. Later, he returned to Masar, the postal distribution company where he had been the first CEO, this time as chairman. In 2022, he was also appointed as chairman of Bar Distribution, when Be'eri became a partner in it. Avshal and Shoshan had three children: Adi (1985), Yuval (1986), and Shaked (1989). In 1997, when they were still young, they went with their parents to New Jersey where they stayed for two years for Shoshan's postdoctoral studies. At that time, Avshal worked as the accountant for the Ministry of Tourism at the Israeli Consulate in New York, ensuring the supply of Bamba and Bisli for the kids who missed snacks from Israel. He – the kibbutznik with urban roots, a hummus lover who also appreciated sushi – enjoyed the time-out in the big city. He explored the city on foot and led family trips across the United States. His love for travel manifested at every opportunity. Whether it was trips to exotic destinations abroad or within the country. For instance, he organized a spontaneous trip from Be'eri to a dark hill near Kibbutz Tze'elim to get the best view of a meteor shower. The stars might have been a bit disappointing and few in falling, but everyone who was there was left with a memorable experience. His love for music, especially jazz, was also contagious. Every year, he would ask who wanted to join him at the Red Sea Jazz Festival in Eilat, and in between, he invited friends to join him at concerts. The beer and good mood were his treat, just like the hot tea he pulled out from the car during the meteor night. In family gatherings, he atypically exempted himself from running the operation. He would find a corner on the side and observe from behind his sunglasses, as though mocking the event, though he was fully engaged. On the morning of October 7, 2023, alarms sounded in Be'eri. Avshal ran to the second floor of his house to help Adi and her husband Tal bring the children to the safe room. For a long time, he refused to enter the shelter and stood outside the door with a knife in his hand, determined to protect his loved ones even at the cost of his life. On that dark Saturday, Hamas terrorists kidnapped Shoshan, Adi, Tal, and their children, as well as Avshal's sister Sharon and her daughter Noam. Avshal himself was murdered. He left behind five grandchildren – Naveh, Yahel, Nahar Shalom, Sinai Moshe, and Ora Bara Rina. His love for them and his children knew no bounds. He always cared for them – to the point of anxiousness, some might say – and was always ready to do anything for them - and for other family members. If something was missing – Avshal would bring it. If a ride was needed – Avshal would drive. If someone was stuck – Avshal would rescue. And all this with nonchalance, as if it were the most important thing. The board meetings and balances could wait. During long drives from Be'eri to work and back, with one leg raised beside the steering wheel, he passed the time with phone calls laced with sharp humor. When he arrived home in the evening, he would quickly head to his usual spot on the couch in the living room, watching a quality movie with Shoshan or switching channels to Hapoel Be'er Sheva. On weekends, after a challenging bike ride in the field, he would man the grill outside or mix the pots in the kitchen. The calories can be dealt with tomorrow - the main thing was that everyone enjoyed the moment. This is how we will remember him. A people person. With captivating charisma. With endless generosity. With unconditional love. Back 15.06.1957 - 07.10.2023 66 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Adrienne Neta Life Story Family and friends share their stories Adrienne Anne Neta was born in California, to Ellen and Alfred Lamperd, in 1957. Her father worked as an engineer for the U.S. Navy, and the family lived in Southern California. As a child, Adrienne focused on music, playing the violin. She graduated early from high school and went on to study music and play the flute at UCLA and UC Santa Cruz. After college, she played for the San Luis Obispo Symphony. In 1978, Adrienne met Yisrael, a member of Kibbutz Be’eri who was traveling around the U.S. after his army service, at the home of a mutual friend. After his travels, Yisrael went back to the kibbutz. Adrienne arrived some time later for a “quick visit” that lasted from 1980 until today. At the kibbutz, she took on the burdens of a Zionist, Hebrew, and Israeli identity. Adrienne was an extremely hard worker who enriched every area she worked in: at the dairy farm, she learned the workers’ calls and sang them to the cows in her decisive intonation (“Coooome! Come-come-come!”), and she especially loved her time working with the newborn calves. In the children’s center, she taught a class together with Yaakov Barkai and was profoundly affected by his humanism. During the same period, she taught music to the kindergarten children. In 1983, Adrienne and Yisrael’s first son, Nahar, was born, followed by Carmel (Carmi) two years later, and Dror in 1986. Their youngest daughter, Ayana, was born in 1993. Adrienne was a loving mother who was closely involved in her children’s lives and enveloped them with warmth. She always insisted that the family sit down for dinner together at home. She raised her children to pursue peace and love their fellow humans. In the early 1990s, while raising her family, she began studying nursing in Beersheva, with her typical diligence and dedication. When she finished her studies, she worked as a nurse, first at the Be’eri clinic, and later in the clinic on Kibbutz Alumim. She loved working in the community and saw each patient as a whole person and a whole world. In 1997, she studied midwifery, and when she graduated, she began working as a midwife at Soroka Hospital in Beersheva. She would travel there morning, noon and night, and volunteered countless times to cover holiday and shabbat shifts. In the delivery room, she was known as a midwife with a unique approach that included techniques she’d perfected over the years, from sitting on the mother’s bed during labor, to skillfully massaging pressure points. Adrienne stood out as a midwife who treated the thousands of mothers and babies she assisted with respect and kindness, regardless of background, religion or language. In 2015, she joined an Israeli delegation to Nepal, after the country’s devastating earthquake. She reported that her encounter with residents of remote villages and the opportunity to care for them deepened and enriched her own life. In 2022, after many years of maternity room shifts, Adrienne retired. Without stopping to rest, she became a full-time grandmother, spending days and nights driving, babysitting and chaperoning her grandchildren. She volunteered once or twice a week at the Rimon Farm near Kibbutz Lahav, where she helped rehabilitate boys and girls who had struggled in conventional schools, and she cared for them lovingly. She loved the healing work performed on the farm through organic farming, which was one of her main hobbies. On the black morning of October 7, 2023, she was taken from her home and murdered. A mother, grandmother, friend, and giver of life to the world, Adrienne’s heritage will grow from the land and echo through the thousands of people she helped birth. May her memory be a blessing. Back 30.08.1957 - 07.10.2023 66 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Dror Kaplun Life Story Family and friends share their stories Drori, born in Kibbutz Ruhamah, was the son of Sarah and Aharonchik Kaplun, and the younger brother of Yehuda. His father made aliyah from Moldova in 1937, eventually becoming a founding member of Kibbutz Ruhamah. Blessed with remarkable dexterity, he excelled as a blacksmith and metalworker. His passions extended to nurturing a pigeon loft, founding a pig farm during a time when it was permissible, delighting friends with his smoked meats, and pioneering the carp fish farming initiative in the Ruhamah dam. Drori's mother, Sarah Lauper, was a Holocaust survivor, the sole survivor of her family. She endured numerous hardships and passed through several concentration camps before arriving in Israel. It is often said within the Kaplun family that Aharonchik's love for Sarah saved her from the trauma of her experiences. Sarah cherished Aharonchik, who was a staunch believer in the ideals of collectivism, socialism, and communism, and she followed in his footsteps. Throughout her life, Sarah worked as a factory worker on the production line at the Mivreshet factory in Ruhamah, a job she truly did not enjoy. However, she found solace in sailing away through her imagination in exquisite prose and poetry, endlessly reading both in Hebrew and Polish. Drori and Yehuda grew up in the communal children's house of their kibbutz. In the few hours they spent together, they collected stamps, organising them by themes, and played chess—on a board when they had one, and sometimes just from memory. As they matured and each assumed significant management roles in their respective kibbutzim (Drori in Ruhamah and Yehuda in Nir Am), they enjoyed debating and contemplating together the best ways to tackle the managerial challenges that faced them, further deepening their bond. Drori was always a good student, fond of learning but not of taking exams. He possessed a sharp mind and a good memory, excelling in both the sciences and the humanities. Beloved and a leader in the "Sheizaf" peer group where he grew up, Drori was a short and chubby child who, through sheer willpower and discipline, transformed himself into an outstanding athlete, playing for Ruhamah's volleyball team. The 20 centimetres he lacked in height to be a "spiker" did not prevent him from being an exceptional "playmaker," skillfully setting up the ball for the spikers. Drori enlisted in the Paratroopers Brigade, went on to officer training, and became a platoon commander in the Golani Brigade. During his service in the Northern Command, while lying in ambush, he encountered terrorists and neutralised them. For this, he received an unofficial commendation from the then Northern Command chief, Rafael (Raful) Eitan: a Kalashnikov rifle as a gift. Modest as he was, Drori never told his children about this incident. After a year of regular service, Drori returned to Ruhamah, worked in the orchard, and even managed it for several years. Following his undergraduate degree in economics from Ruppin Academic College, he managed the Mivreshet factory during an economic crisis. Drori also led Ruhamah's transition from a traditional kibbutz to a kibbutz of a modern type, contributing to the success of this process while ensuring support for the weaker members of the community. He was a man of action, setting a personal example and acting with integrity. This experience led him to manage communities in other kibbutzim such as Lahav, Magen, Yad Mordechai, and Revadim, and in his last role, he managed the community neighbourhood in Kibbutz Gevim. Drori was known for his clear vision, excellent interpersonal skills, and a deep understanding of how people should and could live in a modern kibbutz, making him a legendary community manager. Everywhere he worked, he was valued and loved, and while communities wanted him to stay, Drori always knew precisely when it was time to move on. However, this did not prevent him from continuing to offer his advice and help voluntarily to those in need. Drori married Rosie, a volunteer on Kibbutz Ruhamah, in 1980. Their wedding was held in her native England. In 1982, their eldest daughter, Maayan, was born, followed by Noam in 1985, and Moran in 1987. The couple divorced in 2003. His children describe him as a present and involved father. "On weekends, we would join him in the orchard for picking, in morning shifts at the factory or in the dining room, and even for gate duty. If there was a weekend without shifts, we always went out with him on nature trips around the kibbutz." Noam, his son, adds: "All the years I played soccer, Dad would drive me to all the games on Saturdays. When I was a soldier, he came to visit every time I was home for the weekend." Despite being a hardworking father, when he came home, he set aside his work and devoted himself to his children. This trait also defined him as a grandfather to his five grandchildren: Yuval, Ofir, Nir, Alon, and Klil. He devoted himself entirely to them, without a phone or WhatsApp - just Grandpa Drori and the grandchildren. It's no wonder they loved visiting their grandfather in Be'eri and looked forward to his visits with excitement. Drori was proud of his children and grandchildren. Like his mother, he was an avid reader, sometimes reading three books at once, sometimes more than once. He passionately recommended books he loved and often bought books as gifts for his friends. He fantasised about retirement, where he could read to his heart's content and delve into topics that interested him. He even volunteered as a librarian at the Be'eri library, forming friendships with fellow enthusiastic readers. It was Ayelet Godard, of blessed memory, who introduced Marcelle to Drori. Their first meeting was at a café at the Yad Mordechai junction, and their love blossomed. The modest Drori, who always made do with little, was opened by Marcelle to worlds he was less familiar with and learned to love: cultural events, trips in Israel and abroad. Marcelle taught him to go out, have fun, and enjoy life. On October 5th, two days before the tragedy, they danced until dawn at the Tamar Festival in the Arava. Drori was a man of peace, from the time of Lebanon when he protested outside Ariel Sharon's house to his last days when he made sure to stand at Kaplan every Saturday. Drori was a man of spirit and action, who knew how to turn his vision into reality. He knew there was a time to enrich his own spirit and that of those around him, and a time to plan and execute moves, to make calculations, and to advance the community in which he lived or worked. A person who was a pleasure to speak with. A knowledgeable, thoughtful philosopher at heart, who always spoke to everyone eye to eye. Like his father, he believed in positive thinking, started the morning with a small prayer of intention for the good, and felt that the world smiled back at him. Only one year of retirement was granted to him. He spent it doing what he loved: reading books, engaging in sports, and walking on a tightrope to maintain his balance. He adhered to a healthy diet following the "Maimonides" method and became a nutritional and healthy lifestyle consultant for his loved ones and acquaintances. He felt at the peak of his life. On Saturday, October 7th, Drori grasped the severity of the situation. He expressed his concern for his brother in Nir Am, writing to him, "Don't try to be a hero." He instructed his sister-in-law, Orna, on how to breathe to calm down and how to securely lock the safe room's door. After 10:30, communication between him and his family stopped. Drori left a vast void, a space that will not be filled. His absence is profoundly felt by his children Maayan and Eyal, Noam and Shira, Moran and Guy; his five grandchildren; his brother Yehuda and sister-in-law Orna; all family members and the many friends from all periods of his life with whom he kept in touch. Drori will also be greatly missed by Marcelle's children and grandchildren, who dearly loved him, and by his friends in Be'eri, where he lived nearly 20 years with his beloved Marcelle. His sixth soon-to-be-born granddaughter will grow up hearing stories about her grandfather, a man of great deeds and spirit, and will grow up in their light. His life was taken at 68. May his memory be a blessing. Back 24.07.1955 - 07.10.2023 68 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Dana Bachar Life Story Family and friends share their stories Dana was born in the winter of 1975 on Kibbutz Gesher HaZiv. She was the first child of Esti and Yehonatan Schlossberg and sister to Einat, Karmit, and Yuval. Early on, she took on the role of the responsible adult, a kibbutznik through and through. She was diligent, had a great work ethic, and took jobs in gardening, in the dining hall, and eventually with children, the latter becoming her calling and life's calling. She chose graphics for her elective in high school. At the same time, she became a counselor in the HaNoar HaOved VeHaLomed (The Working and Studying Youth) youth movement. Her students were captivated by her warmth: she embraced everyone like members of her own family. Dana loved Israeli folk dancing, a hobby she kept up her entire life. In 11th grade, she and some friends were returning from a dance and while stopping at the kibbutz gate, the girls asked the names of the soldiers who were guarding it. Among them was Avida. Ten minutes later, Dana came back and asked his name again. They were never apart since. For her military service, Dana joined the Meron Air Surveillance Base, and from there continued to an extended service. After finishing, she joined Avida in Be'eri. They eventually moved to Tel Aviv, where Avida completed his matriculation while Dana worked at Gan Ziona, a kibbutz-style kindergarten in the heart of the big city. The couple's next stop was South America. In 1995, they set out with a twin sleeping bag and a tent. They hitchhiked through the entire continent. When the temperature fell below -20 and 'AviDana' – their nickname – realized they could no longer sleep outdoors, they befriended some locals who invited them to stay. As soon as it got warmer, Avida began fishing while Dana photographed flowers. Next, they spent a year and a half in New York, where Dana once again worked in childcare. When Avida and Dana returned to Israel, they settled in Be'eri. They were married in the summer of 2000 at the kibbutz pool. They had three sons – Rotem, Nofar, and Carmel – followed by daughter Hadar. Dana was a loving, devoted, and protective mother, able to adapt to each of her children's characters. Carmel, for example, demanded that she kiss him only twice a day. Their home was warm and fun, part of the large Bachar family. When Dana's sister Einat started a family in Be'eri, the two of them became known as The Schlossberg Sisters, a pair who always made their opinions known if something was wrong in their view. Dana operated at her own speed. She worked slowly and methodically but was never late. She loved good food, enjoyed restaurants, family ski trips, and travel. She and Avida had a respectful, touching, and caring relationship. On Friday afternoons, they had a private ritual: Avida would drive through the fields while Dana napped to the sound of Israeli folk songs. On Sabbat morning of October 7th, the Bachar family went into the safe room. Avida and Hadar were injured but survived. Before she said her final goodbye, Dana managed to get out: "I love everyone and have no hard feelings towards anyone." She was 48 when she died. May her memory be blessed. Back 30.01.1975 - 07.10.2023 48 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Ran Sheffer Life Story Family and friends share their stories Ran was born in Neve Monosson on February 22nd, 1975, to parents Miriam and Haim when his sister Lilach was six years old. Miriam had a high-risk pregnancy and was hospitalized for a long time while expecting Ran. He was born a month early and placed in an incubator. Despite the difficulties, the expansion of the family brought great joy. Miriam was an elementary-school teacher and educator, and Haim initially worked at the Israel Aerospace Industries and then started a textile factory with a partner in Netivot, to which he commuted daily from Neve Monosson. He was killed in a car accident when Ran was four. In the past, Miriam and Haim had considered living in a small community and relocating to a kibbutz: upon the death of her husband, Miriam decided to make the move. One of Haim’s reservist friends, who was a former member of Be’eri and had previously left the kibbutz, connected her with the administration. When the Sheffer family arrived in Be’eri, Ran joined the “Kalanit Kindergarten”. Since he had trouble adjusting to communal sleeping, his mother slept in the children's house for a whole month. He was part of the “Narkis” class, which was so small that it merged with the class that was one year older, creating the “Tze'elon-Narkis” class. Ran had a lot of friends from his group, with whom he kept in touch over the years; they were like a family to him. Ran had a large scar on his head - a souvenir from his old house in Neve Monosson. While playing with his cousin on the top of his bunk bed, he jumped down to get a piece of LEGO and hurt his head. He was hospitalized for a month and underwent surgery. Ran struggled with his studies, and even before finding out about his learning difficulties and attention deficit issues, his mother understood the situation. Therefore, when high school time came, she found a special school in Ramat Aviv, where he would go day in and day out by bus, and thus, succeeded in graduating from high school. When Ran was 18 years old, his mother passed away. Since he had neither a father nor mother, he wasn’t required to join the army, but he decided to volunteer and serve in the military police. He spent most of his service working as a prison guard. After he was discharged, he went on a long trip in Asia: he visited India and Thailand. He traveled back and forth for years, searching for his place in the world. When he went on a trip to Africa with friends from Be’eri, they returned unexpectedly for a wedding on the kibbutz. Ran continued his travels, but remained in contact with his friends from Be’eri over the years. When he was asked to come to the kibbutz and serve as the dining room manager, he immediately returned to Israel, but within a short time, he resumed his travels in Asia. Then, some 12 years ago, he decided to settle in Israel. He lived in a desert ashram for six months and considered joining the community there, but ultimately chose Be’eri: the kibbutz had always been his home. After being accepted as a member, he started studying and became a refrigeration and air conditioning technician. He worked for years and provided his outstanding service to the Kibbutz. He was always smiling and eager to help. He then worked in construction, and three years ago he once again changed direction and started working as an educator, first in the daycare center, and then in the kibbutz school. He wasn’t an educator by nature or by training, but he was driven by love. In 2010, during a festival in the desert ashram, Ran met Galit, a native of Kfar Saba. They got married a few months later, and Be’eri became Galit’s home as well. In 2013, they had a daughter named Emily. Zoe was born in 2015, and Nia joined the family in 2019. In 2022, Galit and Ran separated. Ran deeply loved his daughters, and they loved him dearly. He was a devoted father, always there for them, taking care of everything they needed and desired. He took them on trips, swimming, bowling, and played board games with them. Another beloved activity was tickling... If he had his way, he would spend time only with his daughters and not engage in anything else. Ran and his sister Lilach, who also lived on Be’eri, shared a strong bond. Lilach had gut instincts about him. She was worried when he travelled to Asia, but she knew that was what he wanted. Just as she awaited his birth for years, she waited for his return. When Ran wasn’t sure how to handle or what to do about something, he would consult with Lilach. A year before his death, Ran lost his childhood friend, Gal Milles. They were like brothers: very close and connected. Gal’s death from cancer broke Ran’s heart. Ran was mostly known as “Chepale”, but no one remembers where the nickname came from. "In our family", says Lilach, "there were some who called him 'Roncho', and Galit’s family called him 'Sheffer'. Ran barely remembered his father, but everyone said he looked a lot like him, both in mannerisms and speech". Ran used to practice meditation. In India, he discovered and fell in love with trance music and festivals, and these parties became his main hobby. On October 6, 2023, Ran went to the party in Re’im. People saw him there, smiling and happy. A few hours later he was murdered. When it was known that Ran had died, people who had met him at the festival reached out to Lilach and told her he had made his way into their hearts. That’s how Ran was - a free spirit. Emotion is what led him. A loving person, who enjoyed dancing. Always smiling, always good, always optimistic. Ran brought joy into this world. Friends who were with him at the festivals said he mentioned this was exactly how he wanted to die - at a party. There is no greater contrast between Ran’s path, full of love, joy and parties, and that of his killers, full of hatred and violence. Ran’s path and the immense love he exhibited, will serve as a memory and solace for his daughters Emily, Zoe and Nia, for Galit, for his sister Lilach, and for all his friends. May his memory be blessed. Ran's memorial site: www.remembering-chepale.com Back 22.02.1975 - 07.10.2023 48 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Sujith Yatawara Life Story Family and friends share their stories Sujith was born in the ancient town of Polonnaruwa in Sri Lanka. His early childhood was especially difficult. He grew up without a family, without a home, and without any possessions. He worked at the fish market just to get by. As a boy, he’d made up his mind that he would transform his future. In his vigorous search for opportunities to change his life, he went to work in Kuwait, where he found a job as a house boy, and where he met Jiani, who would later become his wife. In spite of the obstacles set in the path of work migrants in Kuwait, Sujith held on for two years before returning to Sri Lanka. Sujith and Jiani married in 2009 and had a boy and a girl. But their financial strife continued, and with no other options, Sujith went to work on a farm in severe conditions that resembled slavery. Determined, he continued to fight to sustain his family, searching for new solutions. In 2014, he came upon an opportunity to work in Israel. He borrowed money from his uncle to pay for the trip and banished himself from his beloved family in order to forge a path out of poverty for them. Every month he’d send his salary home, saving money for his children’s future education, and keeping only the bare minimum he required in order to spend the occasional weekend in Tel Aviv or Jerusalem. Sujith spent nine years working in Israel, and only went back home once. He maintained his relationships with his wife and children over the phone. They spoke every evening, for nine years. When he came to Be’eri, Sujith worked first with Arik Mor, then with the Zohar family, and in the last four years of his life he cared for Haim. He was a dedicated worker who operated with Buddhist solitude and modesty. Responsible and punctual, he made sure Haim received his medication on time and was very quick and professional in operating machinery. He seemed to have plenty of experience in facing challenges, and was often able to predict them. “Sujith was an angel,” Erga said about him. “He loved Haim, and we loved him.” Sujith appreciated everyday life on the kibbutz. He liked strolling through the fields, picnicking with friends, watching television, playing videogames, talking to his family, and talking to people in general. He was like a big brother to the other caregivers on the kibbutz. Fernando, who worked with him, said Sujith liked to joke around and laugh like a kid. He loved to smile, and smiling helped transform his mood so that he could cope with his longing for home. Sujith planned to return to Sri Lanka and live with his family in the new house they built with the money he’d sent them. On October 7th, he called his wife at 7:48 in the morning. She was surprised to hear from him so early. She heard rockets or gunfire in the background, and he said, “There’s a little more than usual today.” He wanted to go to the dining hall for some breakfast, but she asked him to stay inside. They chatted about the house they were building, as well as other everyday topics. His older sister, who lives in Jordan, heard about the attack, and tried calling him later in the morning. He didn’t pick up the phone, but sent her a voice message, whispering, “I can’t pick up. There’s a war going on. I’ll call later.” He never got a chance to call her back. As time went by, his wife became more and more worried. People thought he may have been kidnapped. His daughter posted a video online, calling for his release. In the video she says, “To the President and the Prime Minister, I’m approaching you with regards to my father’s disappearance. Nine years ago, my father moved to Israel to work as a caregiver. He returned to Sri Lanka for a month, after which he went back to Israel. We haven’t seen him in six years. That morning, we tried to call him, but he didn’t pick up. We tried and tried and tried. We are very worried and afraid for my father’s safety. I’m pleading with you to help track down my father immediately. Thank you.” For a month, Sujith was presumed missing, possibly held hostage in Gaza. But on November 3rd, the Sri Lankan embassy announced that his body had been identified, using his children’s DNA samples. After a religious ceremony in Petah Tikva, his body was sent to Sri Lanka for burial. Sujith left behind a wife and two children—fifteen-year-old Stoli and eleven-year-old Sahas. His life was cut short in a land far away from home, in a terror attack that did not spare migrant workers who found themselves embroiled in the conflict. May his memory be a blessing. Erga: Sujith came to us from Sri Lanka, and during his four years in Be'eri, he became an integral part of the family. We loved him very much and trusted him deeply. He was a quiet and humble man, who worked with endless devotion, great love, and deep respect. Back 31.07.1975 - 07.10.2023 48 years old (Nursing Assistant)

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Oron Bira Life Story Family and friends share their stories Oron was born in 1969, the fourth child of Rivka and Avigdor. His mother Rivka, who knew Kibbutz Be’eri well since she had lived there in her youth as part of the ‘Youth Aliyah’, dreamed all her life of returning to it. After she had three children – Batya, Tal, and Amit – she managed to convince her husband to move the family from the moshav where they lived and settle in Be’eri. Oron, the eldest son, was born in the kibbutz and became independent right away at the age of six weeks in the shared sleeping quarters. He finished elementary school and high school that he attended – or some say, didn't exactly attend – in Be’eri and then enlisted in the army. Yasmin, the new immigrant, improved her broken Hebrew, adapted to the kibbutz, and at the age of 20, even though she was exempt from army service, volunteered to serve and went with her group of fellow Nahal soldiers to settle in the north. That same year, 1992, Oron left – after finishing his military service, having worked and saved some money – for the big post-army trip: South America, treks, landscapes, new people. He worked in transportation and as a roofer. The world was all before him. Two more years passed, Yasmin was released from her army service and moved to Jerusalem, to live in the student dormitories. She studied at a preparatory school for studies in humanities, but a year later made a U-turn and returned to the kibbutz. Oron also returned to his kibbutz after a trip of a year and a half. A lot of work awaited him. He had to complete his matriculation, to successfully complete a degree in computers, and to integrate at the work place in the kibbutz plant. He would keep the love of trips and adventures, the joy of life and daring, throughout his life. In the dining room of Kibbutz Be’eri, taking turns washing dishes, over the large sinks, the two met. Yasmin was 26 years old. Oron was 29. She came to the kibbutz as a Bambachit – a kibbutz girl on a year off. She thought of working a little and saving some money, and found herself two years later under the wedding canopy, next to a kibbutz boy who called her ‘the light of my life’ to his friends and family, and who never stopped making her laugh until her last day. ‘Daddy’s humor’ the children called his style, which was characterized by word games. In 2000 Tair was born, four years later Yahav was born and three more years later Tahel. A family had formed. Yasmin nursed all three of them until a late age, holding them all close to her chest. The playful, temperamental Oron also became a devoted and protective father, a great help for his children. In the job allocation between the couple and in front of the children, Yasmin was responsible for peace of mind and Oron was the one who spurred her on and strengthened her. If a daughter cried during an annual trip, called in the evening and wanted to come home, he would encourage her to overcome her difficulties and hug her when she returned, telling him: "Dad, it's good that I stayed." As the years went by, Oron advanced further and higher in the printing house in the field of information security and in the field of loving the good life. From time to time, he took Yahav with him and together they sampled a new gourmet restaurant that had opened in Tel Aviv. Yasmin also integrated successfully at the printing factory in the technical department (coordination, production, marketing) and was considered an efficient worker with a can-do attitude. But in addition to her work, she always made sure to keep half a job available for volunteering: a shelter for toddlers in Netivot, emotional support for single mothers, integrating underprivileged populations, anything that she could do. Everything that was close to the soul. The same with the environment and with her children. She would learn her profession as an accountant while working and living and raising children and reading books and switching from one diet guru to another. "She is afraid of Sivan Ofiri," Oron laughed as she settled on the diet method that she held on to. Yasmin talked about feelings and weaknesses, shining in her honesty and her ability to see others. Oron, for whom communication with the children was just as important, found additional ways: sports and fitness, cycling and diving, adventures, and trips. Yasmin was responsible for the budget and Oron for spending the budget. Yasmin asked to save and Oron replied: “You only live once.” Oron cooked, Yasmin baked. Oron was a fan of the Banai family of artists, and especially Ehud Banai. Yasmin was a fan of the footballer Lionel Messi. He didn't miss a show, she didn't miss a game. When Messi lost, Oron knew and the children knew, it was a sad day on which you should stay away from her. Everyone who was close to the family knew about the special relationship, knew that each of the family members preferred to be with the family, the family came first. Five people and one dog, Poncho (who was with the family for twelve years and was also murdered), who were bound together and always with each other. They made sure to have meals together, take trips together, they shared a language and a sense of humor. A family of all for one, and one for all. And now only one is left. Three months before the sky fell, Yasmin and Oron went to Portugal. Missing their children pushed them to make a statement: they went into a local tattoo shop and asked for a joint tattoo. When they finished, they sent the photo to the children. On their outstretched arms the children could read their names engraved on the skin: Tair, Yahav, Tahel. On Friday, October 6, 2023, the family went out to a restaurant and a movie. Yahav's girlfriend also joined. When they parted, Yasmin and Oron and the two girls headed home, while Yahav and his girlfriend headed to his apartment in the kibbutz. On Saturday, at 10:58 the last sign of life was heard. Tair called Yahav from the Mamad (residential secure place). Screams, gunshots, silence, and words in Arabic were heard through the phone. After eleven days, all their bodies were identified in an area near the kibbutz. The poet Rachel wrote in a poem called Matay (When) about the living dead, "The dead in whom death will never stick its sharp knife." She also wrote to Yahav from the distance of the years: "They are the only ones left to me, solely, in them only, death will not stick its sharp knife. At the turn of the road, at the dawn of day, I will be surrounded by silence, stillness will keep me company. She is a true covenant for us, an inseparable bond, only what is lost to me is my asset forever”. Yahav is left with a great asset. May Oron’s memory be blessed. Back 29.04.1969 - 07.10.2023 54 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Ma'ayan Bar Life Story Family and friends share their stories Ma'ayan was born on 23 February 1958, to Asaf Salvi, a founding member of the kibbutz, and Tamar, a Holocaust survivor, who was particularly active in the community. Ma'ayan was their third child, born after her brother Amit, and her sister, Idit. Ma'ayan grew up in the days when children slept in communal children’s houses. First, she was in the ‘Kalanit’ kindergarten and, later, in the "Kitat Rotem". Like her siblings, she was a member of the Be’eri swim team. But while Amit and Edith were ‘well-behaved’, Ma'ayan was a rebel as a child. She did not like school, and often ended up slamming doors; her rebellious nature often made things difficult for her parents. Nevertheless, Ma'ayan always made sure to attend the family’s four o’clock teatime every day, and partook of the standard menu of bread, cheese, tomato, jam, and tea – and the daily dose of family cohesion. Later in her life, Ma'ayan took care of her mother Tamar with great devotion, and she maintained close relationships with her brother and her sister throughout the years, keeping up with every detail of their day-to-day lives, their friends, and, above all, her nieces, and nephews, who returned her love. Once every month or so, the three siblings would meet by themselves, and reminisce about the receding world of their childhood. During her military service, Ma'ayan was stationed in the Southern Command Headquarters in Be’er Sheva, and in the evenings, she would return home to sleep. Immediately after the army, as is customary in the kibbutz movement, she enlisted for a voluntary, third year of service at Kibbutz Eilot, where she worked with children. On her return to Be’eri, she worked for many years as a house mother at the school. Later, she became the house mother of young adults from other kibbutzim, who came to work for a period on Be’eri, often to save up money for a post-army trip. Ma'ayan also worked in the clothing warehouse, and managed the Kibbutz members’ club. In October 1983, Ma'ayan married Yuval Bar, and the story of how they met is mentioned later. Meanwhile, the kibbutz had already transitioned to new sleeping arrangements for children, who now slept at home with their families, rather than in the communal children’s houses. Thus, Ma'ayan and Yuval’s children, Tom, Moran, Noi, and Itai grew up sleeping at home. As a mother, and having been rebellious in her youth, Ma'ayan understood her children’s need for independence and, although certain boundaries of what was permitted and what was forbidden were always clearly defined, her immediate response to their requests was always “yes,” or “everything is fine,” or “we’ll do it and then see.” And when Itai wanted to get a tattoo, she said: “Why not? Maybe I’ll get one too…”. In the early 1990s, when the children were still young, Ma'ayan and Yuval became the so- called adoptive parents of Keren Alankri, who came to live on the kibbutz without her birth family as a "yaldat hutz". Keren took on the role of ‘big sister’. Their relationship continued even after Keren left the kibbutz and had her own children, who are like grandchildren to Ma'ayan and Yuval. Ma'ayan was a happy and optimistic person. Every meeting with her began with a cup of coffee. She also enjoyed spending time in local cafes and in Be’er Sheva, and Tel Aviv. On the kibbutz, she liked to walk around barefoot, in bright, floral dresses, that matched her orange hair, and her cheerfully painted nails. Kibbutz members were used to seeing her walking barefoot along the paths with a stroller, smiling happily in her colourful dresses. Ma'ayan retired at the age of 62, a young, barefoot grandmother, who enjoyed devoting herself to caring for her six grandchildren, and eagerly awaited the birth of her seventh – a granddaughter. Her home was like a second home to Or, Ziv, Zohar, Klil, Binayah, and Sinai. The romance between Ma'ayan and Yuval began in Be’eri, where they studied in parallel classes - Ma'ayan in ‘Rotem ’, and Yuval in ‘Alon ,’ where Tamar was the housemother. Yuval’s adoptive parents were close friends of Tamar and Asaf. But it was only after their discharge from the army that the love between Ma'ayan and Yuval blossomed, when they were both living in the young adults’ neighbourhood. Ma'ayan’s cat climbed a tree and was afraid to come down. Yuval, who was an expert at climbing trees, came to her rescue – and ever since, all members of the family are cat lovers. At their wedding, Ma'ayan was in her eighth month of pregnancy and wore a huge wedding dress. She was focused on creating a warm and cozy home, and on food and baking. Yuval took care of technical and financial matters, while she encouraged going out to have fun. He provided research and depth, and was involved in recycling. She liked to shop. Out of their differences, they wove a complete world together, and countless fine threads bound them together in a close relationship. Both Ma'ayan and Yuval loved to travel, in Israel and abroad. They especially loved Greece and the Greek islands. But they were the ultimate ‘kibbutzniks .’ They never left, nor even considered leaving Be’eri, despite the frequent rocket attacks and the military operations in response – whether they were limited or more major, and not even whenever the security situation escalated. It was their home, the safest place in the world. Their love for Be’eri was great, but even greater was their love for each other, and it defined them in life and in death. On Saturday, October 7th, they died together. Their memory will be carried by their children, their grandchildren, and by all of us. May their memory be blessed. Back 23.02.1958 - 07.10.2023 65 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Pesi Cohen Life Story Family and friends share their stories Pesi was born in Magdiel (today, Hod Ha Sharon) on March 6, 1955. Her parents, the late Pnina and Shlomo Weisblatt, Holocaust survivors from Poland, met and married in Israel. They had three children: Hanna, Dani, and Pesi, their youngest daughter. Pnina was a housewife and Shlomo was one of the founders of Tnuva, and worked there all his life. At home, they spoke Yiddish. As is the custom in traditionally observant households, they celebrated the Jewish holidays and kept kosher. Their home was a modest and pleasant one, in which they behaved respectfully and courteously towards each other. Pesi always spoke of a happy childhood in a house with a yard full of toys that her father built. Like all her friends, she collected napkins, perfume bottles, and tiny dolls. She played all the classic Israeli childhood games—‘Hakafot’ and hide-and-seek, ‘Machanaim’ and ‘Salted Fish’—with friends in the neighborhood. She especially loved the Shavuot holiday—the blintzes, the water fights between the neighborhood children, and the abundant joy. Pesi was a good girl-shy, modest, friendly, and very loved. She was a tall, blonde-haired beauty with eyes as blue as the sea. She studied in a religious elementary school, majored in fashion at Orot High School and was a youth movement counselor for Noar Ha Oved (The Federation of Young Students and Workers). One of her greatest pleasures in life was going on trips around the country. But in her youth and throughout her younger years, Pesi was, first and foremost, aunt to the children of her beloved sister and her soul mate, Hanna. She was always happy to help her sister when her children were small, especially during the long periods when her brother-in-law, Zizi, was in the reserves and absent from home. In 1973, during the Yom Kippur War, she served in the Sinai as a clerk in the 79th Armored Regiment of the 14th Brigade. After the army, she was a swimwear model for Gideon Oberson. Her children recall that she was embarrassed to discuss this chapter of her life. Pesi was one of the founding members of Kibbutz Moran in the Galilee. At a kibbutz movement singles event in Ashkelon, she met Rafi (now deceased) and fell in love. Pesi fancied building their home in Moran, but Rafi was attracted to Kibbutz Be’eri and he won out. They married in May 1979 in a grand kibbutz wedding that included the marriage of four other couples (Naomi and Daniel Alon, Ronit and Larry Plotkin, Tsila and Zafrir Keren, and Revital and Doron Talmor). Four children were born to Pesi and Rafi - two girls and two boys. Shay was born in 1980, followed by Hila (in 1981) and Keren (in 1984). Guy, their youngest, was born in 1994. Pesi was an ever-present mother. She watched over them all with a soft and loving hand. She was dedicated, and quite significant to them all. In those years, Pesi progressed professionally as well. She enrolled in the Kibbutzim College of Education and began teaching crafts and sewing in the local Be’eri school. For years, she was also a caregiver in Be’eri classrooms. The role of the caregiver back then was hugely important. Pesi formed strong relationships with the youth she worked with, even with those considered highly problematic. Years later, after they had matured into good people, they sought out Pesi’s children, eager to acknowledge how their mother had succeeded with them where others had not. Pesi paved the way into every heart, and they loved her in return. At the time of the ‘Rakefet Class’ gala, Pesi, pregnant with Guy, was lying in Soroka Hospital under a doctor’s strict bed-rest orders. But when she decided she could not possibly miss her students’ special event she had Rafi sneak her out of the hospital in her hospital gown. She changed clothes on the way and stepped on stage while experiencing mounting labor contractions. Not long after, she gave birth to Guy. Pesi completed her next project with Iris Gelbard. Together, they founded a handicrafts club for the senior kibbutzniks. Morning classes and afternoon classes were launched. After Iris, her dear friend and co-partner, passed away, the talented Pesi renamed the club "Iris House" in her loving memory. Pesi managed the shop for many years and was the life force of Iris House, which became an artistic outlet for golden-agers -- a magical place where older people gathered to paint, sculpt, sew, and embroider. Pesi showered love and patience on everyone who worked there, celebrated everyone’s birthday, and showcased their lovely fabric and wood handiwork in the 'Shai-li' shop she helped establish, which quickly became popular. Pesi was so proud that the club’s creations delighted children and decorated kids’ rooms and baby prams. With the shop key in her bag, Pesi answered calls from customers near or far, and opened the shop at any hour. Her daughters say that after missile attacks, when they discussed leaving the kibbutz, Pesi would ask: How can I evacuate? What about Iris House? And what will happen to the elders? The years passed, the children married, and ten grandchildren were born. All of them chose to live in Be’eri. Pesi was a dearly loved grandmother, a daily presence in her family’s lives. "Savtusheet," her teenage granddaughters called her, a Hebrew nickname they coined especially for her. They loved coming to her; they came after school to be pampered by their grandmother or to complain about their parents; she knew the right words to calm them. In her role as "taxi driver," Pesi readily chauffered grandson or granddaughter upon request, making sure she shared quality time with every one of her grandchildren. The sudden death of the Rafi in 2016 was a fateful crisis point. Hila attests: "After the death of our father, Mother had two options - to live or not live. She chose life, and we were with her." Pesi gathered the pieces and found the strength to volunteer on the Kibbutz council, work with childless seniors, sing with the "Parliament of the Valley," exercise and swim, keep fit, and renew and fortify ties with friends from every period of her life. She had many groups of friends and was active in them all: the group from Kibbutz Moran, the group from The Israel National Trail, the groups she traveled with, the "eight" from Be’eri, six of whom were murdered on that Black Sabbath, and of those, the "trio" - Yona, Mazi, and Pesi--close, brave, life-long friends. They loved being together, took care of each other, and stuck by each other’s side as they wandered the remote places of the world: Namibia, India, Mexico, and Vietnam, and also to Dahab and to Sharm they traveled, and often it was Hanna, Pesi's sister, and Shosh (Sharon's mother), who encouraged them to go and enjoy. On the eve of Simchat Torah, they were all together in the Be’eri synagogue, and after, the family gathered, as always, for Friday night dinner. Hanna, her husband Yitzhak (Zizi), and their son Tal were there to celebrate with them. They danced and sang around the big table on the balcony, in the family dining room—which, only two months earlier, was expanded and enclosed so nicely. The next day, Saturday, at 6:30 in the morning, when the alarms sounded, Pesi entered the safe room with her sister and family. Pesi messaged and spoke with her children and friends. When she wrote that the terrorists were inside the house, Shoham, her grandson, wrote back that the terrorists had also reached them. At 12:56, she texted that she loved him and said goodbye-to him and all her children and grandchildren. Pesi understood it was the end and disconnected. Her children later learned that all the neighbors were massed together on her balcony, and only one kibbutz member remained alive to tell what happened in those last moments. How sad that Pesi and Hanna, who never separated, died together, and with them, her brother-in-law Zizi and her nephew, Tal. Pesi was a modest and strong woman with a tremendous heart. She loved to help. She always saw the glass as half full. Pesi was loved and respected in the Be’eri community. She was honest and straightforward, true to herself. She radiated goodness, and that goodness enveloped everyone around her. She was all about giving. Her words resonate with those left behind: "Don't expect that what you give to others will be given to you in return. Give with all your heart and be happy." This was Pesi's will to her children - Shai and Sharon, Hila and Kobi, Keren and Itai, Guy and Danielle, and to her grandchildren - Shir, Shoham, Shenhav, Snir, Yahli, Daria, Tohar, Romi, Ori and Goni. May her memory be a blessing. Back 06.03.1955 - 07.10.2023 68 years old

Mourning the victims of Kibbutz Be'eri Kineret Gat Life Story Family and friends share their stories For her 60th birthday, Kinneret asked for only one gift: to spend an evening with all her friends and family, singing the songs she, and only she, chose. She wanted to give the people she loves the soundtrack of her life, from childhood to the present: "Mother and Father - you planted melodies in me." Kinneret was born in Degania Beit in 1955 to parents who were legendary educators in Degania. Her mother, Tova, was a teacher and later the principal of the local school. Her father, Naim, was the youth group's educator. Both were book lovers and even took young Kinneret and Eilat on a mission to Guatemala to teach the local Jews the holy language. The two years in Guatemala were etched in the family’s memory as a significant experience. Kinneret got to know the local culture and adopted the Spanish language, which she used throughout the years. It was important to her to return for a "roots visit," which she fulfilled with Ashel a few years ago. During this visit, she reconnected and had an emotional reunion with a childhood friend. Kinneret's perfect Hebrew was the Hebrew she heard at home. Her father Naim was as rooted an Israeli as one could be. He was born in Peki'in, a descendant of a family of priests who never left the land. Margalit Zinati, who guards the ancient synagogue in Peki'in, is his cousin. As an Arabic speaker who grew up among Arabs, he served in his youth in the Arabic unit of the Palmach, the unit of the undercover operatives. In 1946, he participated in the establishment of the 11 settlements in the Negev, including Be'eri. Kinneret was very close to her father. He wrote stories about his childhood in Peki'in and his experiences in the Palmach, and it was very important to him to voice her opinion and listen to her comments. After he passed away, she continued to edit and rewrite the "Stories of Naim" and turned his memorial day into a family olive harvest event in Peki'in, in the family's olive groves. Thanks to Kinneret's initiative, the extended Dahan family goes up to Peki'in every autumn to harvest the olives and connect with their roots. This tradition cannot be stopped, and the extended family has resolved to continue the harvest every autumn - especially in her absence. Overall, Kinneret was the organizer and connector of the family, the responsible adult, the classic eldest sister to Eilat, Jordan, and Snir . Since her mother passed away, she took her place. She was always like that, someone who could handle anything. An outstanding student in all subjects, a youth movement leader, a diligent worker in the Degania cowshed, an energetic and sociable person, her parents instilled in her an insatiable desire to teach and learn everything. In adulthood, she never stopped studying for a moment: a bachelor's degree in Land of Israel Studies at Beit Berl College, a tour guide, countless Open University courses, law studies at Ono Academic College, a master's degree at Bar-Ilan University, and more. Her greatest pride was her role as the educator of the "Kitat Rakefet" in Be'eri. Not just an educator, but truly a teacher for life, as testified by her students, with whom she maintained a warm relationship even after they grew up. More than anything else, Kinneret loved to hike. Not just travel, but hike. With a heavy backpack containing everything needed, she traversed the country at every opportunity. She walked the entire "Israel National Trail" with a small family group (with Ashel and the in-laws Giora and Iris), ensuring not to skip a single meter. In addition, she planned and experienced family hiking trips around half the world. One of the highlights was the Annapurna Circuit, with Or, as a shared experience of mother and son. The hiking group that formed through her initiative in Be'eri made sure to go on hikes around the country from time to time. The retirement of most of the members allowed for weekday hikes more frequently. After Kinneret's passing, the group renamed itself "Kinneret's Hikers" and continues her legacy by hiking in her memory. She was a certified tour guide and a guide for everyone she knew. Kibbutz Be'eri, where she arrived in 1984 following Ashel, and where their children were born and raised, became a home she dedicated herself to and loved deeply. She filled numerous central roles there: educator, community manager, head of the emergency team, yet she never shied away from any task required by the kibbutz. Need a laundress? She laundered. Need an extra hand in the field crops? She worked in the fields. Need a project manager to restore the dining hall that burned down? She was enlisted for the task. The main role in life was being the mother to Carmel, Alon, and Or. Her children recount that they had a loving, embracing, and supportive mother who was involved, attentive, and interested, someone they could rely on to support them in every choice, even when they went their own ways. Since 2020, she enjoyed magical years as a grandmother to Gefen, who was born to Jordan and Alon. Anyone who saw Grandma Kinneret touring with Gefen in a stroller, barefoot, exploring every path in the kibbutz, singing her childhood songs to her - witnessed true happiness. Love led her to live her life in a settlement on the border; she continued to love the kibbutz, this land, and this country with all her heart. In her youth, she volunteered for reserve duty in the Emergency Economy (Malah), where she was trained as a bus driver to transport soldiers during war. In her later years, she was very active in the protest for democracy. There were no Saturday nights at Balfour, on the bridges, and later at Kaplan, without Kinneret standing in her usual spot, with an Israeli flag adorned with twinkling lights. She feared for the fate and character of the country more than for her own life. During the violent events that struck southern Israel in October 2023, terrorists broke into the family home in Be'eri. Or was not in Be'eri that morning, Ashel found shelter for hours and survived the attack. Alon, Jordan, and Gefen were kidnapped by Hamas terrorists but escaped near the Gaza border. Alon and Gefen managed to slip back to Be'eri, but Jordan was recaptured, taken to Gaza, and returned to Israel after 54 days. Carmel was also kidnapped and has been held captive by Hamas for many months. Kinneret was taken by the terrorists and murdered near her home, in the kibbutz she loved so much. The songs that accompanied her life, "On a Path in the Heart of the Fields," "When the Road is Still Open," "Night Slowly Falls," "The Herd Plods Down the Village Roads Once Again," "A Small Gray-Eyed Girl Prayed Far Away," "And the Last Day Lay Aside All Its Crowns," continue to accompany us, in joy and sorrow, in happiness and grief. You planted melodies in us, our Kinneret. Did you exist, or did we dream a dream? May her memory be blessed. Back 07.11.1955 - 07.10.2023 68 years old