Deb Levy smiled and stretched out her arms, summoning TigerBlog out onto the dance floor.
If you know Deb Levy, you know that she is equal parts giant heart and strong will, and so refusing her offer was unthinkable, even if TB is not a dancer.
Levy is the younger sister by 11 months of Howard Levy, whose name should be familiar to Princeton Basketball fans as an All-Ivy player in the 1980s and then an assistant coach under Bill Carmody, John Thompson III and Joe Scott. Today Howard is the head coach at Mercer County Community College.
The occasion was Howard's son's wedding. The music was loud and fast; the dance floor was crowded. As TB blended into the crowd and did his best to stay with the rhythm, Deb smiled and exclaimed: "TigerBlog is dancing in Israel!!"
Even on the dance floor at a wedding, TigerBlog couldn't help but think of the significance of her words. They were clear in that moment — and they'd be even clearer a day later.
"Dancing in Israel."
TigerBlog is not naive or stupid. He knows that the word "Israel" is met with hatred by many people around the country and around the world. For that matter, it's been pretty obvious to anyone paying attention that there is hatred for Israel much closer to home. There may be some of you who won't read any further, or who may never read TB again.
What can TB say about that? Is there anything he could say here that will change anyone's mind? He's not going to try. That's not his purpose here.
Israel is a complex, misunderstood country that is dealing with the most complex issues, and yet it is also a beautiful, historic, ancient and ultimately optimistic place, with a citizenry — Jews, Muslims, Christians alike — that keeps pushing forward with the simple hope of living in peace.
What he'd like to do is share with you his experiences last week there, where the themes included love, happiness, loyalty — and to be fair, uncertainty and sadness. But not fear, and that's an important distinction.
Oh, and Princeton. Hey, Howard delayed his trip to Israel by a day so that he could attend his 40th Reunion on campus. First his Princeton family. Then, seven time zones away, his son's wedding.
The groom was Lior Levy, the son of Howard and Riva Levy. The bride was Liat Litash, an Israeli by birth.
They're beautiful, right?
The best man was Zack DiGregorio, who along with Lior and TigerBlog Jr. were longtime Princeton Basketball ballboys. Among those in attendance were former players Spencer Weisz and Peter Hadrovic, as well as alums Ted Deutsch (a baseball player) and his wife Jess (who used to work in the Department of Athletics), several of Lior's college teammates from Franklin & Marshall, longtime head of athletic training Charlie Thompson and his wife Sandy and Mary Bechler, whose husband Jeff had been a Princeton Athletics team physician before he tragically passed away two years ago.
They came from all over the U.S. and the world to be there, joining with a throng of Israelis to push the total number of attendees past 300. They danced and they ate and they drank and they laughed. The DJ played Israeli music and American music, and the party lasted all afternoon and then made its way back to the hotel and continued all night.
It was three days earlier that the group of Americans, which totaled 31 in all, had dinner on the beach in Tel Aviv (that's Weisz and Thompson in the photo above, by the way; the locals say there are no sunsets like Tel Aviv sunsets). The next day, the group had toured parts of the North of the country, including Mount Tabor, which according to the bible was the site of the Transfiguration of Jesus. The view from the top is directly into the town of Nazareth, the birthplace of Jesus.
There was a stop at a Kibbutz, not far from the one where Riva Levy was raised. There was a dip in the Sea of Galilee, with its views of Jordan, Lebanon and Syria.
That night, in front of the hotel in Tel Aviv, the street had been converted into an outdoor dining festival, with restaurants on both sides of the road. Remember when TB said there was no fear? It was never truer than in that moment on the street, with row after row of crowded tables.
The next day featured a tour of the Old City of Jerusalem, with its four quarters: Armenian, Christian, Jewish and Muslim. Among the stops: the site where Christ was crucified, the Western Wall and an up close view of the Dome of the Rock and the Al Aqsa Mosque, which are two of the most important spots in the Muslim religion. While they were touring, the group heard the Muslim Call to Prayer, an awe-inspiring sound that rings five times a day.
You cannot, though, spend time in Israel without encountering the sobering side of the country. There are, for instance, signs demanding the release of the remaining 58 hostages, with pictures and yellow ribbons everywhere.
The night before the wedding, there was a dinner in the hotel with about 50 people. As the evening went on, people stood to talk about the bride and groom. There were several round tables, and it went from one part of the room to the next.
As it turned out, TigerBlog's table was last in the order. And TB was last from his table. Just as it was his turn to speak, Riva Levy stood up to inform the room that sirens had gone off, the alert on her phone had buzzed and it was possible that a missile attack was underway.
Everyone was to clear the room and head to the basement, which is the hotel's bomb shelter. At the same time, none of the Israelis there seemed the least bit concerned. It happens all the time, they'd say. It's no big deal.
And it wasn't. The group simply reassembled in the basement, and TigerBlog was able to take his turn as speaker. And then everyone went back upstairs. All clear.
It was the day after the wedding, though, that was the most stunning, the one that will stay with TB forever, in much the same way that his trip a few years back to Auschwitz-Birkenau still does. It was also the day that brought Deb Levy's words into their clearest focus.
A smaller group of the Americans went on another tour, with the same tour guide — Mitch — who had been with the group all week. This time, there would be four stops: an observation point overlooking Gaza, a police station that was destroyed early in the Oct. 7 attacks, the Nova Festival grounds where 377 mostly young people were massacred that day and then a farm about three miles from Gaza, where Uri, the farmer, would teach about how Israel grows crops in a desert.
From the observation point the group could see into Gaza. At the police station, they heard about how Hamas had attacked before 7 am on the Sabbath and how randomly the killings there had been. The building was destroyed that day, and today a monument to those who died there now stands.
Then it was off to the Nova site. TB has stood in places like Auschwitz-Birkenau, or Omaha Beach, or the Gettysburg battlefield — places where there had been massive death totals. All of those, though, at least had a bit of the distance that time can bring.
The Nova site was different. This was less than two years ago. Everywhere you looked, there were posters of the young people that had been put there by their families and friends for them to be remembered.
They could have been current Princeton athletes or young alums. They were certainly doing what young people everywhere do: attending a dance festival with their friends. And then they were killed, just because of where they live and what religion they are.
There were no words to be said there. All there was were the emotions of taking it all in, this dusty dirt field that was supposed to be a place of fun and instead will forever be remembered for the horror that happened there. Even before you walked through the grounds, you were greeted by this sign:
Fifteen seconds?
Mitch the tour guide looks either exactly like what you'd think an Israeli tour guide would look like, or possibly someone who is playing Tevye in "Fiddler on the Roof." Of everyone TB has spoken to about the current conflict that is happening there, Mitch is the one who seems to have the most complete take on the situation.
Like many Israelis, he questions the strategy of the government, all while also understanding that he lives a handful of miles away from a terrorist organization that wants to eradicate him, his wife, his two kids and the entire religion. That's what "From the River to the Sea" really means. That's the Jordan River to the Mediterranean Sea, which is where Israel sits.
His insights were spot on. Is everyone in Gaza evil? Of course not. Where there those in Gaza who cheered on Oct. 7? Yes. Does he weep for the innocent? Yes. Does he understand that Hamas must be eliminated for peace to have a chance? Yes.
But he also said "what's the plan? What's the point of what we're doing?" And then he said this: "Not only do I not know what will happen; I don't know what should happen."
It's that confusing.
The last stop of the tour was the farm, and Uri, who spent 25 years in the Israeli navy. Now he's a farmer, at a farm about three miles from Gaza.
Uri loves to farm. He's up when the rooster crows every day. He and his dog Covid-19 spend their days together. Uri has taught Covid some great tricks, the ones that really entertain his visitors.
Uri's daughter and grandson come by. He shows his guests how the Israelis learned to irrigate the desert. He has them pick cherry tomatoes and strawberries and cucumbers. He is a combination farmer and standup comedian.
And then the tour ended, and his guests were at a central area, about to get back on the bus. Uri talked about the hostages, about how there are friends of his who were taken, how many people he knew who have been killed or wounded.
And then he told the story of his friend, a local teacher, who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time when a Hamas missile landed close to him.
Physically, he was fine, somewhat miraculously. Emotionally? He had terrible PTSD, which left him unable to teach, unable to function, really. It was then that he decided to turn "darkness into light," which in his case meant collecting the spent Hamas missiles and turning them into art.
One of the ones that he sculpted was a rose, with a base that is shaped like Israel. It is made completely from a Hamas missile — and now it sits on TB's kitchen table, after he purchased it.
And that's what TB wanted to tell you about Israel. He used to think that to get a sense of why the country is so important to Jews, people should visit Auschwitz. Now he thinks it's more important to visit the country itself and see how it is the people there live.
There were those words by Deb Levy: "TigerBlog is dancing in Israel." After the massacre at the Nova concert, a rallying cry among Israelis became "We shall dance again." And there they all were at the wedding, dancing again, including TB.
Dancing in Israel? TigerBlog encountered a young woman named Shirley in a market place in Jerusalem. She works in a jewelry store. You won't find a better saleswoman anywhere.
She's personable and funny and beautiful, with her whole life ahead of her. Hopefully. She could have easily been one of the young people on the posters at the Nova site.
TB wondered how anyone could look at her, listen to her and hate her, and for what? Where she lives? How she worships?
That day the group went to Mount Tabor, they went for lunch at an Arabic restaurant behind a gas station. The building was divided into two sides, and the wedding party took up one half. The food was extraordinary. If you've never had Mediterranean food, you owe it to yourself to try it.
After lunch, the group went into the back of the restaurant for dessert. As TB made his way there, he walked past a table of four, three women and one man, who were wearing traditional Muslim outfits. They were eating their lunch as well, with a large and loud group of mostly Jewish visitors a few feet away.
As TB walked past them, he smiled to the women and then held up his fingers in a peace sign to the man. The Muslim man then nodded at TigerBlog. It was a simple gesture for both of them, but maybe, just maybe, it's a sign for the future?
Mazel tov to Liat and Lior. Thank you to her wonderful family, who couldn't have been more welcoming.
And from TB, there is simply the wish for peace.
The Hebrew word for peace is "shalom." The Arabic word for peace is "salaam."
They're so close to each other, figuratively and literally. Can they ever close the gap?
Can they all live in peace someday?
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