Ten Years Ago Today, the Bomb Went Off that Injured My Wife, Killed Our Friends and Began My Reconciliation Journey

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Ten years ago today, my wife was nearly killed in a bombing at Hebrew University in Jerusalem, an attack that killed the two friends with whom she was sitting and forever changed the trajectory of so many more lives.
Including mine.
That was 2002. Years later, in a desperate attempt to overcome those psychological demons that still haunted me after the attack, I attempted to go back to the source, to understand and — yes — reconcile with the family of the bomber.
This is the story:
In the summer of 2002, Hamas – targeting both Israelis and Americans – struck a cafeteria at Hebrew University in Jerusalem. The blast, triggered by a remotely-detonated backpack laden with explosives, threw my wife, Jamie , across the blood-streaked linoleum floor and killed the two Americans with whom she was sitting.
Years later, after her physical recovery and our return to the United States, I embarked on a psychological journey that led to East Jerusalem and the childhood home of the terrorist who set everything in motion.
Not out of revenge. Out of desperation.

It was never my intention to become a reconciler, to become a secondary victim of terror who turns around and, in order to create something positive out of the destruction, works toward peace and reconciliation. In truth, after the bombing – as my wife was tortured by doctors treating the burns that covered portions of her body – I refused to face what had occurred at Hebrew University, pretending as though the attack was some inevitable consequence of the larger Israeli-Palestinian struggle, as though it was impersonal, faceless.
Nobody tried to kill her, I often thought to myself. It just happened.

This is the thought to which I clung as we rebuilt our lives in the United States until, one evening, while digging through archived news clips of the bombing, engaged in a desperate attempt to overcome the terrorist attack by understanding it fully, I learned for the first time the terrorist’s name: Mohammad Odeh. And then I found something strange in an Associated Press article on Odeh’s capture by Israeli police in 2002: Odeh told investigators he was sorry for what he had done since so many people died in the university attack.
At first glance, I thought it was a mistake, a typo. Hamas terrorists didn’t apologize. They didn’t express remorse. They praised the struggle, held up the jihadist’s banner and proclaimed, in the name of Allah, for continued acts against the infidels, repeating the same predictable refrains while marching, faces disguised, guns raised toward the sky. Death to all Jews. Praised be the martyrs. God is great.

Suddenly, things became personal, and just as suddenly, I knew one thing: I would travel back to Israel and attempt to learn if this was true, to learn if Odeh had indeed expressed remorse from those who knew him best – his family.
So this is the story: five years after the bombing, I found myself emailing peace activists from a handful of organizations, looking for someone, anyone who might know the Odeh family, might know how to find them, how to contact them. Twenty-four hours later, my inbox filled with messages from those wanting to help, from those wanting to put me in touch with others who could no doubt help. Almost immediately, I was in dialogue with activists who considered my mission theirs, who co-opted it, putting my request on listserves, bulletin boards and blogs.
As a result, the Odeh family was quickly located and my desire to meet with them relayed. And just as quickly, I received word that the family had invited me to their home in East Jerusalem. They wanted to meet, which is why, months later, I found myself slack-jawed in a Jerusalem Toys “R” Us looking at plastic squirt guns and Hebrew-talking Elmo figures thinking, What do I buy for the children of the man who tried to kill my wife? I needed an offering, something cute to demonstrate that I was not coming for revenge.
When my translator for the encounter, Mariam, picked me up in a silver Peugeot, I was holding a Rubik’s Cube and a stencil set. She eyed them and smiled. “Not necessary,” said her expression.
When we arrived at the family’s house in Silwan, I was greeted with nervous eyes and shaking hands that served me spiced tea. With Odeh’s mother, brother and children watching, I took a sip, ceremoniously burned my tongue and smiled. Mariam nodded. They wanted me to speak.
“I’m not here for revenge,” I said. “I’m simply here to meet you and try to understand what happened. That is all.”
There was silence. And then, suddenly, a flurry of Arabic as Mohammad’s mother and brother began speaking simultaneously, Mariam doing her best to keep up:
“His mother says, We didn’t know what he was doing, we would have stopped him if we only knew.‘”
“His brother says, He broke. He would watch Palestinians being beaten on the news. He used to sit in front of the TV for hours.”
“His mother says, When they told us what Mohammad did, we were in trauma. We didn’t believe it.
And then, the words I had come for appeared as Mariam turned to me and said, “Mohammad has told them he is sorry, that if he could turn back time and change everything, he would.”
I nodded internally, understanding nothing as his brother looked at me and said, “We don’t understand why you have come without a gun. Why don’t you have a gun? If it were me, I’d be angry.”
“This may sound cliche,” I said, holding an empty saucer, “but I’m sick of the violence. I’m sick. I just want understanding and, perhaps, peace.”
“I want peace, too,” he said. “We all do.”
As he spoke, a toddler — his daughter — plucked a photo album from my backpack. She began flipping pages, giggling at pictures of my daughters as the Odeh family squawked for her to return my property.
I pulled out an orange rubber ball, rotated it before her eyes and gently pulled the album from her grip as she grasped the toy. The family clapped and nodded as we all smiled, understanding wordlessly, intuitively, that something important had just occurred.
Follow me on Twitter @David_EHG

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Author’s Note:
Some of this was adapted from an essay for Americans for Peace Now, and this subject is part of what makes up my memoir, due out from Oneworld Publications in 2013.

0 thoughts on “Ten Years Ago Today, the Bomb Went Off that Injured My Wife, Killed Our Friends and Began My Reconciliation Journey

  1. Sorry about the loss of for friends and sorry yo had that life jarring experience. Unfortunately you pursued the family of the stooge who was sent to plant it. Many pawns like him have been captured after failing in this mission and expressed remorse. But they are the misguided youth recruited by Hamas, not the bomb makers or recruiters. I saw this distinction after watching a series of interviews of Palestinian prisoners by PBS, There were a few suicide bombers who survived after failing on their mission. They were very remorseful. One had tried to set his load off by himself. Once placed on a bomber, it is difficult to remove safely. On the other hand a recruiter was interviewed. he had zero remorse. When asked if he would ever be a suicide bomber. He responded by saying that he was needed as a recruiter..
    No, you found the family of the pawn. Next time try and pursuer a bomb maker or reciter. Once again, I am very sorry for your terrible loss

    • Sammy,
      My immediate reaction to David’s resolution was quite different from yours… Without the “troops”, perpetrators of violence and war would be impotent; they would collapse in total failure. It’s the “stooges” who do their dirty work, oftentimes because they’ve been convinced that their actions are noble (protect their country/families) or to exact vengeance for personal losses. I’m all for reaching out to the “stooges”, reconciling, and maybe even joining forces against the “brains” at the top.

      • Jo, I guess you have little understanding of the second intifada. It was a was unlike anyone Israel ever caught. Buses, cafes, holiday celebration with the 67 borders were unsafe. Te perpetrators wil only concerned with blowing up civilians.

  2. David – thank you for your wonderful and heartfelt story. I was moved to tears and filled with hope for the possibility of peace. Then I was dismayed to read Sammy’s response. It seemed to be a blithe and inauthentic expression of sympathy followed by his analysis of what you should feel and do. For me, David’s story of his journey to find peace within himself exemplifies what will save our species: a willingness to move through personal pain and seek reconciliation. What will not save us is more of the same which is fake sympathy, left-brain analysis, categorization, quantifying and assigning blame. If we truly want peace, I believe we must act in a way that is congruent with the desires of our heart.

  3. Yo want peace, here are use steps Palestinians can do.
    1. Lay down arms, this includes Hamas
    2. Show Israelis on the borders of Gaza and the West bank that they do nt had to worry about terror attacks
    3.. Make a sincere effort at outreach.
    4. Neutralize the influence of Iran andy Hezbollah. I would also help is Hezbollah could disarm. Lebanon would ultimately benefit as well.
    Suicide bombing in Israel starting in the 1990’s shook the peace movement to its very core. Many of those who abandoned Peace Now, myself included, because Israelis lost all sense of security when buses were blown up inside of Israel. The Oslo period was littered with the dead victims of suicide bombing.
    Real quiet could re-awaken the peace movement and isolate the settlement movement. A the moment, many Israelis can care less about the West Bank, because they lost hope for peace.

  4. Thank you for sharing reconciliative and profoundly empathic, awesomely uplifting energy and love in action, on this anniversary of an atrocity in which your beloved wife and friends, among so many other innocents were casualties.

  5. This was a very interesting article. As the author demonstrated it is very important to try to practice principles such as reconciliation in our daily lives and in the most real and personal of situations and not just regard them as hallowed but abstract notions – that is, if we expect our institutions to find peaceful solutions to conflict.
    It never ceases to amaze me when I encounter people who are completely unable to find the correct balance of leniency and boundaries within their own relationships and yet who seem unable to understand the enduring conflict in Israel-Palestine.
    “Why can’t they get along?” these people cry, and yet don’t they banish their own children from their homes, don’t they fight with their neighbours and don’t they discriminate against others? It is very easy to judge from afar those who seem locked into an age-old battle that has lost its reason, but the true challenge is in living our own lives in ways that truly model the behavior we say others should adopt.
    Indeed, unless we learn how to do this ourselves, it seems absurd to ask it of others. On that same subject, here is a link to an interesting article called “Why Forgiving Ourselves and Each Other is the Path to Global Justice” by John Bunzl, the founder of the International Simultaneous Policy Organization (which seeks to remove the obstacle of destructive competition in democratic global regulation of economics and resources).
    http://www.integralworld.net/bunzl2.html
    To quote from that article, which is written from within the framework of Integral Theory, “After all, it is upon such a state of genuine Global Community that any properly functioning global democracy must surely depend. In short, we would have created the conditions in which we could recognise the reality that we are ALL ONE; all one in the recognition of our common human fallibility and ‘brokenness’; all one in the celebration of each others’ differentness, all one in the brother/sisterhood of humanity and all one in the eye of our respective God.”
    Here also is the website for the Simultaneous Policy, with videos, other articles and a place to sign up if you agree with the concept. I think it is much needed in a world which must now shift to a co-operative modus operandi if we are to survive.
    All the best,
    Diana Trimble
    East Sussex Coast, England

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