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I Feel Guilty Not Being There — Jewish New Yorkers Desperate to Reach Israel Amid Crisis

I Feel Guilty Not Being There — Jewish New Yorkers Desperate to Reach Israel Amid Crisis

When Home Feels Too Far Away: Jewish New Yorkers Stuck Watching Israel’s Crisis Unfold

Rockets don’t care about airline schedules. That’s the brutal truth hitting New York’s Jewish community right now. With flights grounded and airports in chaos, thousands are stuck here—physically safe but emotionally wrecked—while their people back in Israel take cover from sirens. “It’s like having your mom in the hospital but the roads are closed,” says Todd Richman from Long Island, voice cracking. His whole family’s in Tel Aviv. And he’s here. Drinking coffee. Checking his phone. Feeling useless.

The Guilt Is Eating People Alive

That Helpless Feeling? It’s Universal

Here’s the thing about Jewish New Yorkers—Israel isn’t some foreign country to them. It’s bubbe’s stories, cousin’s wedding photos, childhood summer trips. So when missiles hit Ashkelon? Yeah, that stings Brooklyn just as hard. Miriam Feldman, a Manhattan schoolteacher, puts it perfectly: “Imagine seeing your childhood home on fire… through a livestream.” Synagogues are packed these days, but let’s be real—prayers feel thin when you know your niece is sleeping in a bomb shelter.

Throwing Money at the Problem (Because What Else Can You Do?)

Brooklyn’s raised over $2 million for emergency aid in two days. Impressive, right? But David Leibowitz from Queens shrugs: “Writing checks doesn’t stop my hands from shaking when I call my aunt at 3AM her time.” Volunteer groups are stuffing duffel bags with medical supplies, but here’s the kicker—cargo planes keep getting delayed. So the bandages sit. And people bleed. And everyone stares at tracking numbers like they’re holy texts.

Getting There Is Half the Battle (If You Can Get There At All)

Airports Aren’t Exactly Cooperating

Ben Gurion Airport’s playing musical chairs with rocket alerts—open one minute, closed the next. Major airlines? They’ve all bailed. Rachel Stein was supposed to be on a Birthright flight tomorrow. Now she’s eating the non-refundable hotel deposit and crying into her suitcase. Even those emergency evacuation flights? Bureaucracy moves slower than missiles, apparently.

People Are Getting Creative (And Desperate)

Some folks are flying to Cyprus first—adding 18 hours to the trip—just for a shot at crossing by sea. Rabbi Schwartz from the Upper West Side told me about a family that drove to Toronto just to catch a connecting flight through Athens. “By the time they arrive,” he says, rubbing his temples, “this whole war could be over. Or worse.” Meanwhile, WhatsApp groups light up with messages like “Did you hear from Dani?” followed by hours of radio silence when the power cuts out.

What Does It Even Mean To Be A Jew Abroad Right Now?

The Israel-Diaspora Lifeline

Deborah Cohen—she’s a historian at Columbia—nails it: “We’ve spent decades building this bridge between New York and Jerusalem. Now it feels like they’re bombing our side too.” There’s this unspoken tension brewing, though. Some think American Jews should make aliyah now more than ever. Others whisper that maybe Israel’s government isn’t making the best choices. Awkward family dinner conversations don’t even begin to cover it.

Turning Panic Into Purpose

Rabbi Klein’s advice from Jerusalem cuts through the noise: “Stop apologizing for being safe and start using that safety.” He’s got a point. Back here, Jews for Justice is turning Union Square into a 24/7 vigil site. Liora Mizrahi—you might’ve seen her on CNN—puts it bluntly: “We fight where we stand.” Whether that means calling senators at 2AM or explaining the situation to clueless coworkers, everyone’s finding their role.

So Where Does That Leave Us?

Between the flight cancellations and the moral math of privilege versus pain, there are no easy answers. But here’s what I’ve learned from sitting in too many living rooms this week: trauma doesn’t respect borders. Donate to Magen David Adom if you can. Hell, even just sharing accurate info helps. Because whether you’re dodging rockets in Sderot or refreshing news alerts on the 1 train, we’re all holding the same breath. And sometimes? Witnessing is its own kind of battlefield.

Source: NY Post – World News

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