Yom Hazikaron 5782, Ezra Schwartz

This year hits different. I guess that’s what happens when you experience a close brush with death at the hands of a terrorist. A story once about other people becomes your own. You realize the absurdity - how arbitrary it is, who lives and who dies.

Today is Israel’s memorial day for fallen soldiers and victims of terror. Every year, I think about Ezra Schwartz z”l on this day. I didn’t know Ezra personally, but our lives paralleled: we both grew up in Boston, were the same age, had lots of mutual friends. After graduating high school, Ezra went to Israel to learn at a yeshiva. Delivering snacks to soldiers one day in the Gush Etzion area, Ezra was killed. A terrorist sprayed his vehicle with bullets. He was 18. A few months later, his girlfriend at the time wrote the post below. Every year I come back to it. May his memory be a blessing.

Hi Ez, it's me.

It's been almost two months since I saw your shining face for the last time. It was just two hours later that you were tragically stolen from this world. Today, it is no easier to craft words into sentences, or piece together this new paralyzing and heartbreaking reality.

When I see this picture, a very specific memory of you comes rushing into mind. April 26th was a gray and drizzly day in Newton [MA], and the first game that I attended that season. I arrived at Cabot field early in the game and huddled up with some friends to keep warm. As the first couple of innings passed, Maimo [high-school] let up a few runs and was losing. I don't know what the score was and I probably never did; I spent the majority of the games focused on watching the cute guy in the Number two jersey, rather than paying attention to the actual game. After a tough half inning in the field, the team came back to the bench and you sat down. I was pretty much staring at you, as usual. You were sitting similarly to the way you are sitting in the picture below. Your back was to me but I could see you well. I could see all your mannerisms, the ones that are still so clear in my head- the way you brushed back your hair and fixed your hat and tilted your head to watch an intense at bat. I saw your socks that were pulled up to your knees with your pants tucked in- the way they wear them in the major leagues. You were one of the only guys on the team who wore your socks like that and you would complain that most people didn't wear them "the real way." And then, after a few moments on the bench, you turned around, locked eyes, and quickly winked at me. It was a small movement, a split second, but it made me so happy.

After the game, you came over to me. I remember you were frustrated. You said you weren't happy with how the team had played. You said I should come to a better game, and that you were sorry because you had been meaning to remind me to bring a blanket but you forgot, and now you could tell I was cold. I told you I was fine, and that the highlight of the game for me was when you turned around and winked. You got serious and explained to me that in the middle of a game you're not allowed to interact with or wave to anyone watching, but you had just wanted me to know that you were thinking about me and happy that I had come. That, too, made me so happy.

From that day on, it became a little thing between us. If we were with someone who said something stupid, you would look over and wink to show you knew what I was thinking. If we were ever in an uncomfortable situation, you would look over at me and wink as if to say "I got you." Your winks were always spot on. They were your way of telling me that you understood me, the way nobody else did.

I keep staring at this picture, and for some reason it just brings you back so clearly. When I look at this picture, I will always think of the first time you turned around to wink. And just like on that day, right now I can't see your face. But I try to think, and I hope more than anything, that even though you can't fully turn around and wave or talk to me now, you are watching me and thinking of me- just as you were on that day- and that you know I am thinking of you too.

I'm running because I know you don't want anything to slow me down in life. I'm running because the few times I told you I went running after feeling gross from heavy sem meals, you laughed and made fun of me, and I miss that. I'm running because I know the whole time you will be with me, winking at me from above.

You were a treasure in this world and the light of my life, missing you every second of the day-

I love you Ez.

Love, Lanzo