Australia was my home for the first 25 years of my life. I grew up in North Bondi, in the heavily Jewish Eastern Suburbs. My parents like many of their generation were Holocaust survivors. My mother arrived in Australia in 1949 with her parents and brother; my father arrived a year later on December 31, 1950. They met on the steps leading down to the sand at Bondi Beach, a part of the beach front affectionately known as Little Jerusalem, the steps were known as the Jerusalem steps. A year or so after they met, my father proposed at that very spot, at the top of the stairs across from Bondi’s promenade. For my family, Bondi Beach has always been a place of magic, romance and friendship.

The magic was violently stripped away on Sunday, December 14, 2025, when a brutal terrorist act left 15 innocents murdered, more than 40 hospitalised and an entire Jewish community traumatized. Beachgoers of all faiths witnessed scenes that will never be unseen. In less than half an hour of pure evil, Sydney’s most famous beach lost its innocence, not just for me, but for countless others.

I made Israel my home over 40 years ago, but Australia has always remained a big part of my who I am. I remember arriving in Sydney for a family visit a few years ago, and being asked by Passport Control, “you an expat?” The word stung, “Actually” I replied, “I am still very much a patriot, I just no longer live here”.

Each return........

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