Local opinion: We are holding on, keeping to our faith

On the dark day of Oct. 7, Itamar and Dorin Cohen first heard the whistling of rockets. Then they heard the threatening sounds of murderous shouts and gunfire as Hamas terrorists swarmed their Kibbutz of Kfar Aza in southern Israel.

As the voices and gunfire came closer, Dorin called the police, begging for help, and then called her father in nearby Ashkelon. “I told him we have terrorists at our kibbutz. He said: Tell Itamar that he shouldn’t let go of the door handle of the safe room; no matter what happens, he shouldn’t let go of the handle.”

Every home in Israel, by law and due to the ongoing security concerns, is mandated to have a “mamad” room. It’s a designated safe room with thickened and hardened walls and ceilings, sealable windows, and doors for protection against chemical attacks. It is often stocked with provisions, flashlights, and a radio, much like American basements in Tornado Alley.

However, safe rooms do not lock to prevent a child or pet from inadvertently locking themselves into a space that would be very difficult to break into. They don’t have locks so that families can rush inside without having to find a key as sirens wail. They don’t have locks because no one dreamt that murderous terrorists would blast their way through the border and go house to house, hunting for Jews.

All that separated Itamar, Dorin, and their two little children from the horrific fate that befell 1,400 Jews on that dark day was the door handle. And Itamar held that door handle for his very life, the door handle that was all that divided his family between life and death.

From outside their room, they heard screams of horror and explosions. Around midnight, the terrorists broke into the Cohen home and tried forcing open the door of the safe room. Itamar held strong. Then they piled furniture outside the room and lit it on fire. The metal handle quickly became searing hot, but still, Itamar held on.

Itamar held onto that door handle for more than 27 hours. He did not eat or drink. He did not sleep and didn’t sit. He did not so much as scratch his nose.

Finally, Israeli soldiers fought their way back into the kibbutz. The Cohen home turned into a terrorist stronghold, and an Israeli tank fired shells into the house, the soldiers reasoning that “No one is there, and even if someone was there, they aren’t alive anymore.” But the Cohens survived the battle that ultimately eliminated the terrorists who had invaded their home.

The Cohen family survived because Itamar never let go of that door handle.

The Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, often quoted the Chassidic aphorism that one should “hold on tight to the doorknob.” For his followers, the Chassidim, this meant hanging onto G-d’s commandments and Jewish teachings as taught by the Rebbe, maintaining the connection, come what may.

I must confess not fully understanding the term — until I learned about the story of the Cohens in Kfar Aza. We must hold onto the doorknob because that is what is keeping us alive as a nation.

Our faith in G-d, our sense of community, our connection to each other — that is the door handle of each and every one of us. And on Oct. 7, that door handle became a lifeline. Our faith was blasted; it came under fire. But ultimately, our grip did not waver.

We have found supernatural strength, strength that we may not have realized we possess, to complete that superhuman feat of holding the door handle, of keeping the faith and the connection.

Come what may, we will never let go.