If I’m not mistaken, two months after the start of the new round of the intifada, one of the Hebrew newspapers came out with a sensational headline: since September, Israelis have been dying in our country at the hands of terrorists every 48 hours. Among the routine of daily messages about minor terrorist attacks, to which we had already begun to get used, this message, derived by a simple arithmetic operation, was the moment of truth. Because it revealed the essence of what was happening. We are really being exterminated - in accordance with the well-known clauses of the Palestinian Charter.
In Tel Aviv, there are no fewer than six "Russian" youth discos — for younger and older crowds — where young people come from all over the Gush Dan area. On Fridays, each of them gathers up to 500 people. "Dolphi" is considered a "younger" disco (from age 16 and up). It opened at the Dolphinarium about six months ago. But since other "Russian" discos and clubs had previously operated here, the place was already well known.
On the evening of June 1, one of the "youth" discos was closed, and everyone went to "Dolphi." There were especially many girls, because they were admitted for free.
The disco was supposed to open at midnight. According to survivors, two lines had formed at the entrance. The terrorist forced his way into the crowd and detonated the explosive device. Eyewitnesses say that what followed resembled hell.
Ilya: "We were on leave with a friend. We went to 'Dolphi' — his girlfriend was waiting for him there. The building was already cordoned off, no one was being let in. I showed my army ID and got through. It was a nightmare — streams of blood, torn limbs, wounded people everywhere, screams. I forced myself and rushed to help those who could still be helped. In the army, I had taken a special course — I know how to dress wounds. I didn't see faces — many were disfigured. I only learned later that most of them were from our school."
Aviv: "It was a real meat grinder. My girlfriend, whom I was supposed to meet here, is now in Ichilov Hospital with a severe thigh injury and a shattered knee."
…Soon, parents who had heard about the attack arrived at Ichilov, where the wounded were still being brought in. Children who had survived also rushed there. Both gathered around the information desks, waiting for news — the waiting was unbearable. Parents began to lose their minds from the accounts of witnesses. Some could not bear it and, without waiting for information, rushed to Abu Kabir, where the bodies of the dead were being taken.
Parents stood in front of the gates of the forensic center for hours. They were not allowed inside for a long time, questioned about identifying features.
Nearby, residents of surrounding buildings gathered, shouting: "Sharon, wake up, lead us to war!" Parents who were finally being allowed in for identification hurried to the gates, covering their faces from television cameras. Some were led out by the arms — after seeing what remained of their child, they could barely walk.
Those who still had no news about their children clung to hope — that perhaps their son or daughter was among the three unidentified critically wounded in Ichilov's intensive care unit. By noon the next day, when all had been identified, that hope was gone.
The owner of the disco, 27-year-old Mikhail Kaspi, was not at "Dolphi" at the time of the attack. Hearing that an explosion had occurred on the promenade, he tried to call his partner Kirill. The phone did not answer. Later Kirill called him back — and at first Mikhail did not recognize his voice, he was so shaken.
"It happened at our place," Kirill said. "The guard and one of the assistants are seriously injured. They're in the hospital. I'm with the others in the nearby club 'Pacha' — we were asked to leave 'Dolphi' so as not to interfere with the rescue teams."
…From eight in the morning, teachers, students, and parents began arriving at the Shevach Mofet school, where six of the girls who were killed had studied. Children did not want to stay alone — they moved between hospitals, visiting their injured classmates, then returned to the school. More and more details emerged.
One of the two sisters who were killed had celebrated her birthday shortly before. Remembering this, the children could barely hold back their tears. Even experienced psychologists who had arrived at the school could not yet bring them out of shock.
Taya Verbitskaya, the deputy principal, who observes religious traditions, learned about what had happened only in the morning and immediately rushed to the school.
"At 8 a.m., almost all senior students and all teachers were already here," she says. "Most of our students are from Russia, and they are very close-knit. And now, when it turns out that one has lost a friend, another has a girlfriend in intensive care, and a third — who arrived late to the disco — has close friends in critical condition in the hospital, it causes unbearable pain.
Almost all of the injured and killed students have younger brothers and sisters studying at our school. The shockwave from this explosion has affected many people. Parents, students, teachers come here with one question: how can I help?
One of our students, Emma Skulishevskaya, is now in intensive care at Ichilov — she had three surgeries overnight. Tamara Fabrikant is also there — she has a concussion and a ruptured eardrum. At 2 p.m., six more of our students were hospitalized with serious injuries. Those with lighter injuries have already been sent home, but they all came here — to be together.
Psychologists told us that tomorrow, when classes resume, we must give each child the opportunity to speak out and cry. For now, they go to hospitals and ask us where their friends will be buried and what will happen to their families. And we must answer these questions, remain strong ourselves, and support them. Today is a very difficult day."
…Some students from Shevach Mofet have been sitting outside the intensive care unit since night. They have been there for almost 24 hours. Among them is 18-year-old Lenya Zohar.
"I was at another disco that night, in Holon," Lenya says. "I stepped out to buy cigarettes, and on the TV screen there was footage from the attack. I recognized the place — I had been there myself. All our girls go there, they get in for free at certain hours.
Tolya Miller and I were the first to arrive at the school in the morning. The teachers held an emergency meeting and assigned people to go to hospitals and to the families of the victims.
I'm sitting here because a girl I know, Emma, is in intensive care. It's terrifying, it fills me with unbearable pain and hatred for those who did this. Emma has a skull injury, she has already had three surgeries. Soon another surgical team will take over to remove fragments from her abdomen.
Another girl from our school, Tamara, is in another ward — she has a concussion. A bag she was holding saved her — the fragments got stuck in it.
There are other students here — I've visited all of them. What I cannot understand is how someone could do this to children. To girls. They hadn't even begun to live…