äîéãò îòåãëï ìúàøéê éåìé 2002





THE DOLPHINARIUM MASSACRE, TEL AVIV

Fifteen young men and women murdered at the entrance to a popular Tel Aviv discotheque

Terror is not blind – it knows perfectly well where it strikes,a nd whom it slays.

On Friday night, June 1, 2001, a large crowd of young men and women crowded near the entrance to a popular Tel Aviv discotheque on the seashore called the Dolphinarium, waiting impatiently to get inside and “party.”

The club’s owners organized a party attended mainly by Russian-speaking Israelis. By 11:30, 150 youths were already waiting in line. Most were girls, since it was “Ladies Night” and the disco promised free entrance to girls entering before midnight.

“I looked at them, they were all laughing,” recalls the owner of a kiosk located just 15 meters from the club. “The boys were flirting with the girls, the girls were chatting among themselves. They were all in a good mood. They looked like angels, dressed so nicely.”

Like youths all over the world, they just wanted to have a good time, enjoy the weekend, and dance - feel the rush of life.

However, just before 11:30, a terrorist wearing an explosive belt came to the club. He surveyed the area and pushed his way into the most crowded spot – a group of young girls standing in the middle of the long line.

At 11:35 p.m., he detonated himself.

A huge ball of fire burst into the sky and the deafening boom of the explosion was heard up to 10 kilometers away. In a split second, the happy, natural, friendly scene turned into an inferno.

People flew into the air; mangled body parts were everywhere. A second after the explosion, the entrance to the “Dolphy,” as the club was known, looked as if it had been bombed from the air. Dozens of people were lying on the ground. Many were dead. Some tried to get up and extricate themselves from the nightmare, only to collapse a few moments later because of the wounds they sustained.

The pavement was covered with blood – as well as pieces of human flesh, shards of glass, slivers of metal and torn clothing. The air was filled with the sound of hundreds of people screaming for help; screeching in the pain.

The ambulance teams arrived within minutes. One medic approached a jean-clad girl lying on the ground, suffering from head and chest wounds. Minutes after the medic approached, the girl stopped moving.

Twenty-one young men and women were murdered in that attack on a Tel Aviv summer night. Fifteen of them were under the age of 18.


The dilemma in Shevah High School: Whose funeral to attend?

Five of the murdered teens were students of one school, the Shevah-Mofet High School in Tel Aviv. On the Sunday after the attack, a chilling notice was pinned on the school bulletin board:

“Students are requested to write their names and class number under the name of the funeral they wish to attend. “Students! Make sure to register for one funeral only!”

The aim of these instructions – “make sure to register for one funeral only” – was to protect the children, to keep them from exposing themselves to unbearable pain.

The instructions, however, gave rise to an impos sible dilemma – whose funeral to attend? Should it be Mariana’s – she always helped friends in their studies? Or perhaps Anya’s – who always knew how to cheer people up when they were down? Or maybe they should attend the double funeral of sisters Yulia and Elena?

In actual fact, no one observed these heart-wrenching school rules. Those who came on school-organized buses to the funerals of sisters Yulia and Elena Nalimov, remained for the funeral of Marina Berkovski – held at the same cemetery.


United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan comes to express sympathy for the school
The school decided to open its doors on the morning after the attack – a Saturday. Shabbat. The Day of Rest.

But for those at the school that day, it was anything but a day of rest. The faculty filled the role of social workers, comforting sobbing teenagers, who just a day earlier, had innocently believed final exams to be the most significant event thing in their lives.

“How can it be that we – children – should turn on the television and see our friends dead,” one of the students told a repORTer who came to the school.“ We want to turn the television on and watch cartoons or soap operas, not our own friends lying on stretchers.”

They certainly should not have to attend their friends’ funerals.

The school was inundated by visitors who felt a dual need to express shock at the terror outrage and empathize with the students and teachers. United Nations Secretary-General Kofi Annan was among the visitors, writing in the visitors’ book: “It is tragic that the lives of these young people were cut short in this way. Please accept my condolences and deepest sympathy for your sorrow.”

The young victims: 15 lives cut short before they had really begun