Myron Holtzman

By Myron Holtzman

Our one and only trip to Israel a few years ago more than exceeded our expectations. The spiritual feeling upon our landing at Ben Gurion Airport, the Kotel and its tunnels, visiting the Holocaust Museum and Children’s Memorial at Yad Vashem, taking a sobering walk through the Har Herzl Military Cemetery, visiting Ziv Hospital, climbing Masada and taking mud baths and “floating” in the Dead Sea are memories we will always cherish. And, not to be forgotten, was visiting the brave Israeli soldiers’ camp in the Galilee and also sharing the 66^th anniversary of Israel’s statehood by visiting Independence Hall and reliving Ben Gurion’s moving declaration of the state.   

Amy Bender Levy

By Amy Bender Levy

I have only traveled to Israel once. It was an amazing experience that changed my life as Jew, as a mother and as a woman. When we landed in Tel Aviv, the fight attendant announced "welcome home/" Though I had yet to step foot onto the soil of Israel, a chill went through me, and I knew what he meant. Israel is our homeland.  We all have different emotions, feelings and connections to Israel which is what makes it such a unique experience to each of us- was able to do a lot of soul searching and personal reflection while in Israel, as to who I am, the impact my Israel experience could have on my family and how I wanted to share that with them. As a working woman, I was fascinated with the other women attorneys I was able to meet with doing similar work as me, yet the legal obstacles were much different. I will never forget walking back to our hotel on Friday evening after Shabbat at the Wall; the streets were silent; there was the most amazing sense of peace over the city of Jerusalem as the entire land was observing Shabbat. Even on the holiest of days in St. Louis, the world goes on around us, making me feel so aware of how few of "us" there are. But there, in our homeland, we are one of the many. And the world around "us" stops for "us." I cannot wait for the day that I get to return to Israel with my children, and watch each of them have their own "ah ha" moment as an American Jew in our homeland.

Lisa Broddon

By Lisa Broddon


One of my most vivid, oldest and favorite memories of Israel is when I was 16 years old. It was the longest plane flight I had been on with a group of kids I barely knew. I went with a BBYO group but only two others were from St. Louis. All of this was so new and exciting but a little tiring and overwhelming too. As we walked down the stairs of the plane and our feet hit the tarmac I felt like there was already much meaning the earth held below me. An elderly Israeli gentleman looked down at me and said, "Smile! You are in Israel!" That statement would resonate with me throughout the trip. On another occasion during the six weeks I was there, a local woman thanked me for coming to Israel. I had been lucky enough to travel to and sight see many US locations and never did a local thank me for coming to visit there. Over and over again you have the feeling of being "Home", of being where you should be, where you are appreciated for your interest of the history and everything Israel offers. I was  blessed to go on a JWRP women's trip in 2013 and as it was very different from my first trip, it was beyond wonderful. Even though I had previously been, several things seemed new and I observed from older, more experienced but also new eyes. I could go on and on about the things I hold dear in my heart about those trips. The ones that often come to mind  are: the sense of community as you see children running and playing in the streets, the bustle of the shuk on Friday afternoon and the sights, smells and tastes that come with that, the sound of other religions being called to prayer several times a day in the old city, the feel of the salty water and cleansing minerals of the dead sea, the beautiful sound of people speaking in Hebrew and the overall, overwhelming feeling that you belong somewhere very special. I dream of when I am able to return.

Marilen Pitler

By Marilen Pitler

My first trip to Israel was in May 1977, with Temple Chai, our synagogue in Long Grove, IL.  Besides many friends, including our rabbi, Floyd Herman, I was with my husband, Jordan, and mother, Mildred Wiley.  For my family, it was our first visit to Israel; especially meaningful for my mother, a recent widow and now traveling with her daughter and son-in-law.

Besides being our first visit to Eretz, there were so many other firsts, paramount among them the 10^th anniversary of the reunification of Jerusalem and the election of Menachem Begin as Prime Minister.

I will never forget the thrill of sitting on folding chairs in a courtyard in the Old City, just feet away from dignitaries like Jerusalem’s mayor, Teddy Kollek, hearing them speak, feeling the thrill of being in a unified Jerusalem, with fingertips that had touched the ancient the stones of the Western Wall, and then being brought back to reality, looking up and seeing the soldiers sitting on rooftops, with their feet dangling down, holding their Uzis, ready….  The day was calm, our attention brought quickly back to the speakers.

Then, several days later we were in Arad, where we spent the night before climbing Masada.  Some slept, but most of us stayed up, playing backgammon, and listening with rapt attention as our guide translated the radio reports on the prime ministerial election.  Menachem Begin was running for office and won.  For us, we were witnesses to history.  In the early hours of the morning, we began our climb up Masada’s Roman ramp.  As the sun peaked out of the night, we were drawn to a bamah.  We prayed.

We continue praying, Am Yisrael Chai.

Jordan Pitler

By Jordan Pitler

In my trips to Israel, my first emotion each time was when I stepped off of the last step of the plane & my eyes welled up like swimming pools. Imagine being in the LAND of my ancestors & the beginning of our faith. The emotions are overwhelming. The history & sites are beyond words & the Israeli people are wonderful. God bless Israel.

Marti Maurer

By Marti Maurer

I went to Israel five years ago with a group of women Jewish educators. We all were going for the first time, and each had different expectations. I tried to keep an open mind. I struggle to write down everything properly. The moment I disembarked the plane, I breathed in deeply, and was immediately overcome by foreign smells, signs in a language I could not read, people speaking a language I could not follow, the soft breeze in my hair. I turned to my seat mate and declared I did not have enough senses to absorb everything I needed to in Israel. For some unknown reason, despite being a foreigner in a land I was not a resident of, I was at peace, and I was  home.

The children - Our hope for the future and the reason we were visiting Israel as educators. The children of the 5th grade class my friend and I were co-teaching were so fascinated and animated about life in St. Louis. They spoke English beautifully, and were so proud of the delicious goods their parents had prepared especially for us. Balloon flower pot decorations, a special music video, and so many questions! I have never felt so wanted and loved in a classroom. They did not want us to leave, so the children rushed at us, arms outstretched in one gigantic hug. I was deeply moved and at that moment my dream of making Aliyah and tutoring children in English was born.

I could not understand why I felt safer in Israel than I do in St. Louis as everywhere I turned on the streets of Jerusalem and Tel Aviv there were IDF soldiers with automatic weapons dangling off their shoulders. The young IDF soldier cradling his newborn daughter in one arm and his weapon in the other while shopping in the shuk for Shabbat was shocking to me, but also quite comforting. I saw no conflict between any people. People of different races, nationalities and religions worked together side by side. As we walked through old Jerusalem to the Kotel, I could not understand their animated conversations, but the laughter, hugs, and camaraderie of the Jewish shopkeepers with their Muslim neighbors was genuine, and not something you hear about in the media.

Only in Israel - I was having dinner with new friends in our sister city of Yokneam and was sitting next to our host. He was American and asked where I was from. I told him St. Louis, but I was originally from a small city in New Hampshire. He asked me the name of my hometown. I told him Keene. He looked me in the eye and asked if I knew the Weisberg family. Did I know them?!! Pat and David Weisberg were in my class, and we share the same birthday. Keene, NH is a bit smaller than St. Louis, MO...we were both shocked.  

Helene Frischer

By  Helene Frischer

My favorite memory from visiting Israel is being in the Old City of Jerusalem just prior to the end of Shabbat. I went to Israel with JWRP/Federation and we were lucky enough to celebrate Havdallah in the Old City.  We had an amazing vantage point from which we could see most of the Old City.  I heard the church bells ring from the Church of the Sepulcher.   A few minutes later, I heard the call to prayer presumably from the Dome of the Rock.  It was an incredible feeling to be surrounded by so many people praying, albeit from different religions. It gave me a great sense of peace and community and hope for the future.