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The Story of Roz and Paul Schneid - Part II - Homeless and Wandering
by Naomi Ragen
Many of you have asked me what is happening with the Schneids of Netzar Chazani,
the people I wrote about in Moment Magazine this month. Paul and Roz, who are
leading members of their community, stayed with their neighbors until soldiers
-- members of the airforce in which Paul's son serves as a senior officer-- came
knocking on their door. They had asked for containers and received them. ( By
the way, these containers are costing the settlers $2,000 each, and they will be
charged an additional $1,500 for moving costs. All the compensation owed them
will also be taxed!
And they are not getting much.) The night before, in order to spare the young
soldiers as much pain as possible, they did the packing themselves. When the
soldiers knocked on the door of their home, they said:"I'm so sorry. I know how
hard this must be for you." A group of officers came to call on the family
because of Paul's son.
They embraced. Then they left the house together for the last time.
Silently, they marched with their neighbors to the synagogue, the same synagogue
whose Rabbi was brutally murdered by Palestinian terrorists two years ago. This
is no bedroom community. This is not a neighborhood, as most of us understand
it. This is an extended family who have sat shiva in each other's homes, banded
together to help when thousands of rockets fell in their backyards and on their
roofs. They have been in a furnace of terror together, and have emerged welded
into one cohesive unit: Sephardim and Ashkenazim. Teachers and farmers and
businessmen and grocery store owners. They love each other. And they love the
soldiers.
At the synagogue, soldiers and settlers suddenly put their arms around each
others shoulders and sand songs of the land of Israel, each quietly wiping away
tears. This went on for two hours. Paul was asked to speak. He tried so hard to
be upbeat and hopeful. He spoke of their history together, how they had come
from all different backgrounds. How they were a microcosm of Israel. He looked
at the soldiers and told them they were one. " When we slip our hands together
and hold each other, we can't fight. We can only build." They could destroy the
buildings. Take away the land. But the spirit within the community, the oneness,
the eagerness to continue building the land was unquenched within them. The
community asked only one thing: Not to be separated. Not to be sent to different
apartments in different cities. To be left together as a unit.
They had been saying this
from the beginning to everyone who would listen. And as any psychologist would
tell you, they needed each other to get through this.
They were loaded peacefully onto buses. It was then the nightmare began for the
wonderful people of Netzar Chazani. No stops were made for bathrooms. They were
on the bus for six hours.
At their request, they went first to the Kotel.
Yeshivat Hakotel gave them a place to sleep. The next morning, according to the
"plans" of the Disengagement Authority (SELA) the community were sent up to the
Golan Heights, Chispin. A five hour drive. They were originally told they could
stay there until September 1. But on Saturday night, after all they'd been
through, they were told by the hotel they needed to get out of their rooms to
make way for other guests on Sunday morning! They were offered dilapidated dorm
rooms, without airconditioning, instead. Fearing for the health of their
children, they refused. Overwrought, tempers flared and the entire community
decided to march back to their homes in Netzar Chazani. That's where they are
now. On the road. Exhausted, and angry, and heartbroken.
Paul and Roz aren't with them. He needed to have chemotherapy today. But when he
got to the hospital, they said he needed to pick up his dose at the pharmacy.
When he got to the pharmacy, he was told he needed a letter from his local
clinic. He patiently explained that he no longer had a local clinic ( just as he
explained to the supermarket cashier that he had no telephone number to put on
his credit card receipt.....) It took him three hours to straighten it out.
Sick, tired, jobless, homeless, he and his wife wait to see what will happen
next, and where they will sleep tonight.
I have heard some people say:" Well, what do people expect when they didn't make
any plans? When they refused to cooperate?"
I know it's hard for most people to understand, but they weren't worried about
themselves. They were concerned about the state of mind of the community if they
went off and fended for themselves, concerned about setting an example that
would encourage everyone to go their own way, helping to destroy the only thing
left: the community and it's spirit.
They are a rare, endangered species: idealists. Like beautiful old houses and
rare animals, the special community of Netzar Chazani must be preserved. That's
all its people want. Not luxury hotels.
Not huge houses with swimming pools. They want to be together in a place that
will afford them their basic necessities. SELA, whose incompetence is a national
disgrace, suggested sending them to Eilat (six hours away, in hotels that are
empty for a reason: 45 degree summer heat. They offered to send them to the Dead
Sea (ditto). And then they sent them to the Golan, without bothering to check
how long the hotel could host them.
There is so much empty land all over the Galilee.
Why couldn't they have simply put a caravan park there? "We couldn't force
people. Decide for them where to go. And they weren't talking to us," SELA has
been whining. They remind me of the rapist who tells the victim: If you only
wouldn 't have struggled so much, you would have made it so much easier for
yourself."
For shame. For shame. For shame. For shame. For shame.
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