One year ago, Jews around the world awoke to learn of a horrific event. The Hamas attack on Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, accounted for the largest number of Jews killed in a single day since the Holocaust. The following 12 months have been a period of mourning and attempts to reconcile the shock and violence of that day.
The memory of Oct. 7 is especially painful for Americans and Israeli Americans with friends and relatives who perished or were captured at the Nova Music Festival. But it also has affected every Jewish person, young and old.
As we approach this solemn anniversary, the Jewish Light asked a very broad swath of St. Louisans – who are either Jewish or working in the Jewish community — the same question: How have the events of Oct. 7 changed or impacted your life?” The opinions expressed are those of the individual’s and do not necessarily reflect the views or positions of the Jewish Light.
Rabbi Elizabeth Hersh, senior rabbi, Temple Emanuel
I shall never forget the horrors and atrocities committed against our brothers, sisters and children in Israel on Oct. 7, 2023. As a Jewish soul, I feel vulnerable. Both the rise of antisemitism and anti-Zionism are symbolized in the shattering of glass, shards scattered around the world, waiting to be repaired.
I am hyper-focused on my Jewish presence in the world and loneliness I feel. I wonder why “friends” and faith leaders have not expressed outrage about the hostages or rise of antisemitic acts. To borrow the image from the poem “Jigsaw” by Rabbi Lawrence Kushner, where each of us is a piece to the puzzle, I am missing an important piece to my puzzle.
My bond with all Jewish souls is stronger. When one of us hurts, no matter where they are, we are required to respond. I find myself discussing why I am proud to be Jewish. I want to encourage my Jewish family to stand proud; to engage in study, prayer and acts of chesed, lovingkindness.
My heart hurts for all the innocent lives lost. Life is precious. Life is sacred. I cannot, I will not lose hope. But hope means action. As I collect each piece of broken glass, I must be part of the repair, not the destruction. In my own way, my heart is even more open to the vulnerabilities of souls around me. I must push up my sleeves to work with the Jewish people, the greater community to reach understanding and wholeness.
Scott Biondo – Jewish Federation of St. Louis community security director
The events have and continue to change the way we mitigate security issues for the community. Protection of our Jewish university students, though always a concern, has been forced to the forefront. Being prepared to respond in the U.S. when new activities surrounding the war in Israel occur, has become paramount to our mission as well.
Micah Lotsoff – student at Clayton High School
Unfortunately, in the almost 18 years I’ve been alive, I haven’t been able to go to Israel. But the events of Oct. 7 made me feel more connected than I ever have. Never before have I kept myself as updated as now on Israeli current events. Never before have I realized how important it is for Israel as a homeland to exist. Never before have I seen my family suffer the way they have this past year. Never before have I seen so much antisemitism and hate towards my people and their home. To answer your question, the events of Oct. 7th and those that have followed it this past year have shown me how ugly and hateful people can be.
Rabbi Brad Horwitz, chief Jewish engagement officer, Jewish Community Center
This year on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, I find myself filled with reflection and sorrow. Given the events that have transpired this past year, specifically the rise of antisemitism and the harrowing events and continuing aftermath of Oct. 7 our hearts carry much weight. Our community has suffered enormous loss and trauma, and it seems like there is no end in sight. And yet, within this somber context, I am also filled with hope and optimism. Maybe it is a coping mechanism, but I honestly believe we will overcome and persevere.
The source of this positivity comes in large part from the Jewish tradition. In the liturgy of Rosh Hashanah, we recite the story of Abraham and Sarah, who, in their old age, were blessed with a child, Isaac. This narrative is not merely a tale of miraculous birth; it embodies the essence of hope against all odds. Abraham and Sarah’s journey was filled with trials, yet their faith and perseverance ultimately led to the birth of a new generation, one that would carry forward the legacy of monotheism and justice. Just as our ancestors faced adversity, we too confront a world that feels hostile. The events of this past year can seem overwhelming, but we must remember that our response is rooted in resilience and hope. Hope does not deny the reality of our struggles; rather, it compels us to rise above them, to envision a future where love and understanding triumph over hatred.
Helen Turner – director of education, St. Louis Kaplan Feldman Holocaust Museum
For me, there is before Oct. 7 and after Oct. 7. I’ve been in Holocaust education for over a decade and not since Oct. 7 did I fully comprehend the importance of the idea of Israel in terms of safety for Jews, but I also didn’t fully comprehend the threat of violence as intimately as I do now. This was the deadliest attack on Jews since the Holocaust.
Sitting in a synagogue days after the attack hearing the reading of the names of those held hostage, that history felt shockingly close. 10/7 is now part of the fabric of centuries old antisemitism and part of the narrative of post-Holocaust consciousness.
Oct. 7 has reshaped how I understand the proximity of Holocaust history to today. It has forever changed how I engage with and teach the concept of genocide, particularly as director of education at a Holocaust museum. It has also heightened my awareness of the fragility of a destabilized world.
Since Oct. 7, my beliefs have been challenged, both my anxiety and empathy has deepened, and my understanding of the necessity of Holocaust and genocide education has solidified in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Oct. 7 changed Holocaust education, it changed the world, and it changed me.
Kalanit Chappell – adminstrator of “Jews in the Lou” Facebook group
Since Oct. 7th, I feel like my heart has been ripped open. The pain and devastation of the attacks have been overwhelming, and I’ve been forced to confront a reality that I never anticipated. My eyes have been opened to who truly supports us and who doesn’t, both within my circle and in the broader world. It has been heartbreaking to witness some individuals and groups I once trusted remain silent or even oppose us in this critical time. As a result, I’ve had to reassess my involvement with certain social action groups, recognizing that I can no longer align myself with organizations that do not stand by us in our time of need.
In response, I’ve sought deeper connection and solidarity within my own community. I’ve found that turning inward, toward the people who share my values and experiences, has provided the support and understanding I so desperately needed.
It hasn’t been easy, but in the midst of the pain, I’ve found strength in re-centering my activism and my relationships around those who are unequivocally committed to our safety, well-being, and future. This period of loss has also been one of growth, as I continue to build new alliances and strengthen old ones that reflect my deepest beliefs.
Paul Sorenson, board member, MaTovu
The past year underscored for me just how deeply people from across our Jewish community are connected to each other — and how profoundly intertwined our well-being and safety is with all people in Israel and Palestine, in St. Louis, and across the world.
Emma Malter, president, NFTY Missouri Valley
Since Oct. 7 I’ve felt like there’s been a huge weight on my chest. No matter what it just will not go away. My heart hurts for all the families of the hostages, there’s no way to describe it other than to say it feels like a dark cloud is constantly over my head. My happy moments, my sad moments and everything in between feels so small compared to what is happening in Israel.
Robert Newmark – board chair, Jewish Federation of St. Louis
The brutal attacks on Oct. 7 dramatically impacted me personally. For one thing, as board chair of the Jewish Federation, our work shifted overnight. We have sponsored numerous vigils and gatherings, coordinated the community response to increasing antisemitic attacks, advocated for the safe return of the hostages (including a community awareness billboard campaign), and we raised (and then invested) millions of dollars through an Israel Emergency Campaign. We did all of this while we have continued our “regular” work on providing community security, funding for social safety net services, and building community. So it has been a very busy time for Federation.
Our community trip to Israel last October to commemorate the 75th anniversary of Israel’s founding was unfortunately canceled, but I was able to visit friends and family in Israel last April. Sharing solidarity with our extended community in Israel was incredibly meaningful for me, as was seeing first-hand the places where Hamas committed its atrocities and talking with survivors and family members of hostages. On an even more personal side, I have witnessed the impact of lost friendships, and insecurity about safety, that so many of us in our community have experienced. I am truly grateful for the way our community has come together to support one another in this challenging time.
Raquel Scharf-Anderson, head of school, Saul Mirowitz Jewish Community School
Since the tragic events of Oct. 7 and with the developments that have followed, our Saul Mirowitz Jewish Community School kehillah has felt a profound and lasting impact. While the tragedy remains ever-present in our minds, we are intentional in how and when we address it with our students, ensuring it is done in age-appropriate and thoughtful ways.
From the first day back at school, we gathered students by age group to inform them of the news and provide a space for their questions and concerns. We have also established ongoing support for our faculty and staff while extending care and communication to our Israeli families.
We aim to provide a safe, supportive environment where community members can access accurate information, express their emotions, and take meaningful action. We have dedicated time and space—within our building, classrooms, prayer spaces, and curriculum—for learning, memorializing, and fostering hope for the future. At the same time, we remain sensitive to our students’ diverse maturity levels and knowledge, ensuring we respect their ability to process and understand the situation without overwhelming them.
Our community continues to stand together, offering strength, compassion, and support for all those affected.
Michael Berg, member of the St. Louis Palestine Solidarity Committee and Jewish Voice for Peace
When I first gained some awareness of the scope of the Oct. 7, 2023 Hamas attack on southern Israel, my heart sank – in mourning for the Israeli victims and with a recognition that the state of Israel would soon make life a living hell for every man, woman and child in Gaza. Israeli atrocities began immediately and one year later they have not stopped. The entire destruction of Gaza’s universities, schools, homes, hospitals, greenhouses, bakeries – everything necessary for society to function. The targeting of poets, doctors, journalists and aid workers. The rape of detainees. The sniping of children, one by one, in their heads. The intentional starvation of a population. My friends from Gaza tell me of their family fleeing bombs and bullets multiple times and yet still losing dozens of family members, including elderly grandparents and small children. It keeps me up at night.
For the most part St. Louis Jewish leaders and institutions, including the Jewish Light, have responded with either callous disregard for Palestinian suffering or outright denial of reality. Whether you acknowledge it or not, the state of Israel is committing a genocide, and the world sees it. When people plead to stop the atrocities, there is a knee jerk reaction from Jewish leaders and institutions to accuse them of antisemitism, wielding the accusation as a political weapon. Let’s do better.
Open your eyes. Open your heart. Israelis cannot bomb their way to peace and security – only full rights and justice for Palestinians can bring that.
Lester Goldman, past president, Congregation B’nai Amoona
The horror of what happened that day, the continual despair for the plight of the hostages, the bewilderment of how unprepared Israel was, are, even today, still churning my gut in a whirlwind of emotions. And on top of it all, I am depressed by the irrational, undeserved, hatred of Israel, Zionism and world Jewry, by so many people and nations. Even so, I am profoundly hopeful, perhaps unrealistically, but hopefully and prayerfully, nevertheless, that a resolution of this terrible conflict…on the battlefield and in the minds and hearts of so many…will speedily come to a just and merciful end.
Riva Stern, senior, John Burroughs School
You never expect to feel completely at a loss. You never expect a community-wide panic. I had always been proud of my Jewish identity. On Oct. 7 my life and the life of every other proud Jewish person changed. Everyday post Oct. 7, my days were filled with people hiding behind their screens, reposting colorful infographics, and hurtful misinformation, and sitting amongst my community in the U.S. feeling awful about being so far removed and seemingly incapable of helping. Reports of young people camped out on college campuses and calling for the “second intifada.”
I’ve had countless long debates-turned explanations where it was my job to explain why what Hamas has done and continues to do are acts of terrorism. If you had told me I would be doing that a year ago, I would have called you crazy. However, most importantly, the world denied me, my friends, my family and any other Jewish person the ability to feel our pain and work through our grief.
Now, nearly a year later, being Jewish for me is a sense of pride, as well as one of fear. When I say I’m Jewish I look weird, like I’ve personally done something wrong. I’ve had to decide where I’m going to college in part based on whether I will be safe on campus.
However, if anything this past year has made my identity as a Jewish person more important to me and brought me a larger understanding of what being a Jewish person actually means; we feel each other’s pain, we are here for each other, and we are resilient.
— Compiled by Ellen Futterman, Jordan Palmer and Bill Motchan
| RELATED: St. Louisans invited to join global moment of silence for Oct. 7 victims.