It’s hard to describe what we have felt here in these past few weeks. The air itself seemed different; lighter, gentler, almost joyful.
Four young men — Bar Kupershtein, Guy Gilboa Dalal, Evyatar David, Segev Kalfon, and Eitan Mor — were all discharged on the same day from Israeli hospitals where they’d been recovering since their release from Hamas captivity two weeks ago, during the holiday of Sukkot, after two long, agonizing years in the hellish dungeons of Gaza.
Just a few weeks ago, our entire nation eagerly watched in anticipation as twenty brave young men stepped out into the sunlight and into their family’s warm embrace. And ever since, we’ve welcomed each hero as they made their way home, lining the streets with waving flags, singing songs of joy and dancing collectively. It felt like the entire country had once again begun to breathe normally after so much pain and anguish, after so much waiting, we are slowly recovering.
There, among the crowds, was a sea of orange; our United Hatzalah volunteers who have been walking alongside these families every step of the way over the past 750 days.
A Hug That Said Everything
I will never forget the moment Tal Kupershtein hugged his son Bar again. Tal is one of our own, a United Hatzalah volunteer who was badly injured while rushing to save a little girl’s life. Since that day, he’s been confined to a wheelchair, but his spirit has never dimmed.

When Bar was kidnapped from the Nova music festival, where he was working as a security guard and medic, it broke us all. Tal’s dedication and mission to fight to be reunited with his beloved son became a symbol for our entire organization. Throughout these horrific two years, we kept showing up, kept helping each other, and most importantly, kept praying for this happy ending.
So, when father and son finally embraced with open, outstretched arms, we all felt time stand still. It wasn’t just a family reunion. It was a nation recovering from our collective trauma and two years of prayers answered in a single heartbeat.
The David Family: From the Front Lines to Home
A few hours later, United Hatzalah was also privileged to escort Evyatar David, safely home from Beilinson Hospital to his home in Kfar Saba. Evyatar was also taken hostage from the Nova Music Festival on October 7, 2023.
His father, Avishai, is one of our veteran paramedics who has helped save countless lives over the years. Even more impressively, Avishai has continued to respond to medical emergencies alongside other United Hatzalah responders in the Sharonim Branch over the past two years while his son was held captive in Gaza by Hamas terrorists.
When Evyatar was kidnapped, we promised the family what we promise every United Hatzalah family: ‘you won’t go through this alone’. So, when Avishai asked that we take part in Evyatar’s homecoming, we showed up just like we promised. Our volunteers danced around this special family, not just as medics, but as brothers and sisters in orange. That’s what being “wrapped in orange” really means.
October 7th: The Day Everything Changed
I will forever remember that fateful Shabbat morning. Despite being Simchat Torah, within minutes of the first sirens and news reports from the south, hundreds of our EMTs, paramedics, and doctors were already on standby, and many were even en route before the first order came in. They just ran to help anyone they could.
Despite the warnings and danger, many of them entered active combat zones under fire to treat the wounded and help evacuate the civilians from harm. United Hatzalah volunteers were one among the first emergency medical personnel to arrive in the area. Some were injured. Three of our heroes never came home. Maor Shalom, Z”L, Darawsha Awad, Z”L and Dolev Yehoud, Z”L. Their names and bravery are forever in our hearts.
That day, I watched people I already knew to be heroes become superheroes. Our medical responders, together with our Psychotrauma and Crisis Response Unit, a one-of-a-kind group of mental health experts here in Israel, worked side-by-side, nonstop with one goal: to save lives. They treated the wounded and sat with people in their darkest moments, reminding them that they were not alone.
On that day, and for the last 750 days, we all learned the harsh lesson that sometimes saving a life isn’t about medical equipment or training; it’s about listening, holding a hand, and helping someone breathe again.
From Rescue to Recovery
Over these two years, our volunteers have been there with the hostage families, through sleepless nights, endless waiting, and finally, through homecomings like we saw. We’ve learned that these wounds don’t go away now that our people are free.
For Bar, Evyatar, Guy, Segev, Eitan and the many other released hostages, the road to recovery is a long one. But one that these brave men and women will walk surrounded by love; by their families, by their communities, and wrapped in orange by the over 8,000 volunteers of United Hatzalah who refuse to let them walk it alone.
We will also not allow ourselves to forget those who paid with their lives, the men and women of all ages who were cruelly taken from their families, communities and nation and will never be able to embrace their loved ones again. Those holy martyrs will forever be in our hearts and minds. We will continue to embrace their memories and their families for all time.
A Collective Light We All Carry
As I watched the countless videos of people who stood waving blue and white flags on the roadside, watching our orange convoy lead these brave young men home, I thought about how much our country has endured and how, despite all the hurt, there is just so much love here.
From the terror of October 7th to the fragile joy we are now experiencing, one thing has remained constant: the willingness of ordinary Israelis to do extraordinary things by running toward others in need. To rescue, to heal and to comfort.
I would like to say that this quality is unique to United Hatzalah, but the truth is, it’s not. This is at the heart of what it means to be Jewish and what Israel is all about.
We can’t undo the pain, but we can carry each other through it. We can’t eradicate the darkness, but we can hold the light to make the darkness a little bit brighter.
That’s what this experience has showed us, and we know that tomorrow will hopefully be just a little bit brighter.




