Unfortunately — or perhaps fortunately — no color was available for the pages we had allotted for our coverage of last Thursday’s massacre at Mercaz Harav yeshiva in Jerusalem. The blood in the photographs you will find on the opposite page and on pages 24 and 25 was so pitifully plentiful, so pitifully red.
And the murdered were so pitifully young.
We name and mourn them here:
Yochai Lipschitz, 18;
Yonatan Yitzchak Eldar, 16;
Yonadav Chaim Hirschfeld, 19;
Neriah Cohen, 15;
Roey Roth, 18;
Segev Pniel Avihayil, 15;
Avraham David Moses, 16;
and Doron Meherete Trunoch, 26.
We also note how far they and their families had come to arrive at that awful moment; we can see the history of Israel in their short lives.
Some media outlets have called them, on second reference, by their last names, as if they were men, not boys. But they were so young, even the eldest among them, and we will call them by their given names.
Avraham David’s family had moved to Israel from the United States (his stepmother, Leah, was from New Jersey, according to The New York Times, but we have not been able to determine where).
Segev Pneil was a citizen of France, where Jews have been reporting an increasing sense of discomfort. (See page 28.)
And Doron Meherete came all the way from Ethiopia, with his parents, when he was 8 years old. According to Ha’aretz, he was in the yeshiva’s "hesder" track, meaning he chose to serve in the army as well as study. And serve he did, "even reporting for reserve duty during the Second Lebanon War," according to the newspaper.
Among the wounded, according to JTA, were Naftali Sheetrit, a U.S. citizen, and Nadav Eliahu Samuels, a Canadian citizen.
But wherever they came from, wherever their families may have wandered and then taken root in Israel, they were all part of the Jewish people, all part of us. May their memory be a blessing.