Our member Dr Pessy Krausz first came to Israel in 1958, making Aliyah in 1975. In this post she reminisces about her visits to Jerusalem over the decades.
Our nascent State had not even reached its first decade when an excited groom, Neville/Yaacov, flew his bride (me!) on a visit – my first, his one of several – to Israel. Hiring a small car, we drove to Jerusalem along the winding road from what was then Lod airport. I found difficulty containing my excitement. I was travelling to the city of my prayers and hopes of more than 2,000 years.
Dusk was falling as we passed the petrol station on our left. Swerving round the bend to our right I strained my eyes to see the city of my dreams. Would these dusty roads with small houses lead to the glorious huge buildings I’d imagined? Continuing further, my tremulous voice asked,
“When will we reach Jerusalem?”
Proudly came the response: “This is It! Soon we’ll find the hotel we’ve booked and rest before sight-seeing in the morning.”
The city was in darkness. Homes already shuttered at 9 pm. We came to a stop in front of the well-established King’s Hotel. Small bulbs lit the corridors, there was no kettle in the room, but at least a bed was a bed! So that’s how the Jerusalem of my prayers had been cut down to size – and so had my hopes and dreams.
But
what a difference ten years can make when we visited in 1967 – exactly six days
after the miraculous Six Day War. This time we came with our three small sons, Shimon (9), Dov (7) and Daniel (4). We would be making our way to witness for ourselves the
retaining wall of our Holy Temple – The Kotel – which Rav Shlomo Goren, on
finally reaching it with brave Israeli troops, declared in his rousing Hebrew
accent– "The Kotel Ma'aravi is in our hands" – upon which he
blew the Shofar and recited the Hebrew blessing Shehecheyanu (“He
who has given us life”). Then on reaching the Temple Mount he repeated the
ceremony. For those who would like to access the historic event, Google הר הבית בידינו
We were also to tour and explore towns that were now accessible. The city of Hebron with the Cave of Machpelah which once again Jews, and indeed people of all faiths, could reach—and also Bethlehem, recorded in the Book of Ruth which opens with a famine in Beit Lechem (meaning “House of Bread”), a town that originally belonged to the tribe of Judah but had been under Jordanian control until the Six-Day War, when it was captured by Israel.
However, next day’s sight-seeing began in Jerusalem itself when we visited our cousin, Shula, who had made Aliyah and worked in Jerusalem’s Barclays Bank. Reaching this imposing building, built in 1930 and situated on Jaffa Road and Allenby Square, we saw that its granite facade was pockmarked – a telling remnant of the bullets fired from Jordan. These marks are still visible to this day, 58 years later.
We greeted our pioneer cousin excitedly. She left her desk and led us to the window from which we could see "No-Man's Land”. This strip of land had existed as a buffer zone between the Israeli-controlled West Jerusalem and the Jordanian-controlled East Jerusalem from 1948 until 1967.
In this picture, no-man’s land was where we see the street with the car. It contained small tents. Goats occupied the place of glory, while squatting Arabs found space alongside them.
“Aren’t you nervous?” we asked her, having freshly arrived from the safety of Great Britain’s northern town of Sheffield.
“No! Why should I be?”
“Well, you’re a stone’s throw from those Arabs – a potential enemy - aren’t you?”
“They’re harmless, need all their energy to take care of the chickens sharing their tents. It is a sort of boundary, although thanks to the miracle of the Six Day War we can now circumvent the area and make our way to our Old City.”
We said our goodbyes with a shared drink of cooling water. The Old City was indeed our next port of call. We made our way on foot – past the Cinematheque down the winding Maale HaShalom Street and descended through the Valley of Hinnom. Heartbreaking little wooden sticks with names of our brave soldiers were placed at intervals on the roadside where they had fallen in courageously ensuring the Kotel would be in our hands.
But was it? Arriving under the glorious blue skies, we proceeded towards it with great expectations and our small prayer books. Easing our way through the narrow alleyways, which at that time led to the Kotel, our historic encounter was rudely interrupted by Arab lads high up on the walls above us, pelting us with pebbles and shouts. Beating a hasty retreat from “our” Kotel which did not appear to be entirely in our hands, we wound our way back, somewhat disheartened, easing our feelings somewhat with a little refreshment we’d brought with us.
Fast forward to eight years later, when 1975 saw our family make its own personal leap of faith. Aliyah! And we were in time for our youngest son’s barmitzvah which was celebrated - at the Kotel! By then the narrow alleyways had been replaced by a broad plaza. The walls above were protected by our very own soldiers. We were blessed to have four generations present. How my parents wondered at the miracle which their own parents, who had succumbed to the Nazi’s dastardly annihilation program, must surely have been sharing from above. They would have shared joy as we marked 58 years since the re-unification of Jerusalem – Yom Yerushalyim. No doubt they would also have shared the pain that Israel’s age of innocence – if ever there was one – did not last long. Doubtless they too would have joined in our heartfelt prayers to release our remaining hostages who, at this time of writing, have now exceeded a harrowing 600 days of The Swords of Iron War.
Our
resilient Jerusalemites nevertheless celebrated this year’s Jerusalem Day last
week on Sunday 25 May 2025/5785 by holding parades with thousands of all ages
singing “Am Yisrael Chai – The People of Israel Lives!” Dancing jubilantly, with flags unfurled,
despite the heat they marched to the Kotel. Some entering the Old City through
the Dung Gate, while others through the Lions' Gate.
We
are blessed. The Kotel is indeed in our hands. We will evermore sing Am
Yisrael Chai – The people of Israel shall live forever!”
