{"id":1473,"date":"2019-09-16T13:17:19","date_gmt":"2019-09-16T11:17:19","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/brianoflondon.me\/?p=1473"},"modified":"2019-09-16T13:17:26","modified_gmt":"2019-09-16T11:17:26","slug":"one-year-on-from-the-murder-of-ari-fuld","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/brianoflondon.me\/2019\/09\/one-year-on-from-the-murder-of-ari-fuld\/","title":{"rendered":"One Year on from the murder of Ari Fuld"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

One year ago a friend of mine was murdered in cold blood: stabbed in the neck from behind by a 17 year old kid. Instead of just falling down (and perhaps applying pressure to his wound and maybe surviving) he turned, chased his attacker and shot at him. This prevented the terrorist from finding any more victims (he was running toward a young woman). I recorded a long YouTube video about it at the time<\/a>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When you hear of<\/p>

a terrorist attack, <\/p>

do you ever stop <\/p>

and think about <\/p>

those affected?<\/p><\/blockquote><\/figure>\n\n\n\n

That friend, Ari Fuld, comes from a large family. One of his brothers wrote the following on Facebook this morning and I want to share it all. When you hear there has been a terrorist attack, do you ever stop and think about those affected? I do, every single time. I know so many directly touched by the Jihad here in Israel. My friend Kay Wilson (read her book<\/a>) and Arnold Roth and his wife whose daughter was murdered just to name a few. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

These stories tear me up but they do nothing to stop me and millions of other Jews from wanting to live in the land where our spirituality, our laws, our peoplehood and our nation was forged. I\u2019m home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hillel Fuld writes on Facebook<\/a>: <\/h3>\n\n\n\n

One year ago, everything changed forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019ve never told this story, at least not in a public manner. Honestly, not sure I\u2019ll make it through this post, but if you are reading this, I decided to hit \u201cPublish\u201d.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was a Sunday morning like any Sunday morning. I was at Hometalk doing my thing. I had a few tabs open on my browser, like I always do. One of them was Israeli news.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I opened that tab just to check what\u2019s happening in the country and there it was. \u201cAnother day, another freaking terrorist attack.\u201d Those were my thoughts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Only this attack was different. No, not because my brother was the victim. I had no idea about that and was only going to find out later. This one was different because it was recorded. On video. By surveillance cameras.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That means that on that website there was a big Play button. The video. What does one do? They click Play. And so I did.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What the heck was I was watching? A Palestinian kid stab a grown man, a fairly large man, and then the man turns around and chases the terrorist down after he was already stabbed? Wait, what? He just jumped over a wall? He shot him. Who was this guy and what was running through his veins because it sure wasn\u2019t the same stuff I had in my veins. \u201cWhat a hero\u201d, I thought to myself!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So I did what I always do and I asked in the Fuld WhatsApp group, and I quote, \u201cIs everyone ok? 😀\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yes. Smiley and all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now here is where things get blurry. Doni, my older brother, the one who is one older than Ari in the lineup, Doni called me. As I remember it, he said two words to me. \u201cIt\u2019s Ari.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had no idea what he was saying. What was he talking about? What was Ari?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I quickly grabbed my stuff and raced to the hospital. Like I don\u2019t know how I made it there in one piece. On the way, I called Doni for an update. He said \u201cDon\u2019t rush.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was over.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That moment was the end and the beginning of the hell that was the year that followed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The hospital. That room. Miriam. Natan. My parents. Everyone. A scene burned on my brain forever. Whether I like it or not.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The moment Natan walked in from school. Frozen. Tears. Shock. Hugs. No one rehearsed such a scenario. What do you even say? What do you do? How do you minimize the trauma? You can\u2019t. You can try. But you can\u2019t. His Bar Mitzvah was around the corner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt can\u2019t be.\u201d My mom kept repeating those words. She was right. It couldn\u2019t be. Ari? The bull! The lion, as he\u2019d later be named? Taken down by a teenager with a knife? Later it all became clear. That sprint? That jump over the wall? The terrorist was after his next victim. Ari saw that. No blood in his veins? That\u2019s not an excuse. So he sprinted. And saved her. She became part of the family as a result.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The thoughts rushing in my head from that moment till now. Never stopped for a second. The questions, do we want to see the body and say goodbye? What were they all talking about? This seriously cannot be reality. Just no.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When people say \u201cit feels like yesterday\u201d about an event in the distant past, I didn\u2019t think they meant it literally. This feels like I just watched that video. This second. I better rush to the hospital.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A year? No way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But I had to get organized at that point. What about my kids? This was all over national news. How would they find out? From their friends in school? My God.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Left the hospital to rush to them. We split up and I went to tell Aviel. Big mistake. He\u2019s a very sensitive one. Very.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The moment I told him? I\u2019ll never ever forget that second. Ever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I got to his school. They had isolated him. So he didn\u2019t find out. He had no idea why. They said they wanted to give him some feedback. When he saw me, his confusion increased.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I asked his rabbi to leave us alone. I told him \u201cUncle Ari. Something bad happened. An attack. He saved someone\u2019s life. But he\u2019s gone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t cry. He didn\u2019t have tears flowing down his face. He had a tear. One. Sat there. Still. One tear. They were close. They clowned around a lot. He was his big mighty black belt uncle. One tear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

For the next few weeks and months, I tried to get back to myself. Failed miserably. My family is insanely resilient. That\u2019s a word I didn\u2019t comprehend before. I didn\u2019t understand what that meant. Nor did I understand the word trauma.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But they lived. They mourned. They cried. They suffered. They still are. Endlessly. But from where I was sitting, I was the only one who couldn\u2019t put on my socks in the morning. I\u2019m probably wrong. I know I am actually. We all react differently but all I know is, I was very concerned for my future. My well being wasn\u2019t guaranteed anymore. My stability wasn\u2019t obvious anymore, not emotional, physical, or financial. Nothing was for sure any more.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I was the only brother who didn\u2019t speak at the funeral. Me, the brother who makes a living from talking. But I couldn\u2019t. Talk. I couldn\u2019t.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Crowds<\/a>
Crowds outside Ari Fuld\u2019s funeral at 1am<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

I try not to think about that. Maybe I should have. How could I not? I tell myself I had nothing to add to what everyone else said. It\u2019s true. It was the middle of the night. Should I have spoken just to speak? What would I have said? How would I have controlled the uncontrollable crying) the words wouldn\u2019t have come out anyway. I tell myself that. Repeatedly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Luckily, my father, the rock of this family, the one who told us countless times over the past year that this is the card we were dealt and we need to live, luckily he spoke on my behalf and brought the world to tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Over the next 12 months, I learned about heroism. I thought I knew Miriam. I didn\u2019t. She taught me who she was. Like who she really was. A hero. A superhero. Just like her husband.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I thought I knew Tamar. I didn\u2019t. I got to know her. A rock. Like her Abba. She got engaged and married to Michaya, a man Ari loved.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Naomi. \u201cHow was she strong?\u201d A question I asked myself thousands of times. Thousands.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Yakir. A 6\u201d 6\u2019 giant whose insides make his physical body seem microscopic. And Natan, such maturity. Strength. The little guy is anything but little.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My brothers? Broken but strong. Every one of them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As for me, there were books. There were words. There were stories. There were messages. Everything contributed a little bit to helping me get out of bed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ari created a tsunami in this world the ripples of which I believe we\u2019ll feel for decades. He left this world the way only he would want to leave this world. He wrote the script of his death and that script was his life. The life of a hero.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He left behind a legacy of a hero, an extended family of heroes, a group of close friends who are all heroes, and me, his very sad little brother.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

One whole year.<\/p>\n