I could have opened another thread about fails peace talks and terrorism, third intifada and bloodshed. But I don't want to talk about that. Instead, I just want to talk about Alon.
I didn't know Alon Bakal that much, I barely noticed the wide-eyed and shy boy when he first entered our debate class in Netanya college, sheepish boy yet well aware of himself. One of my other classmates laughed at him as they both found their seats in the row next to me. "Alon," he said, "What are we even doing here?" he asked, and Alon, with such confidence, said- "This class is much better than the other nonsense they teach."
When he stood and gave his speech in front of the class, even the most detached, bored student took the time to listen. Alon had his way of making the audience love him. so aware, enthusiastic with people, but at the same time, shy and quiet in small conversations.
I remember him being the joker, most handsome boy in class, but he modest, in his own way. Incredibly friendly and respectful to others, total gentleman... He told us about this place he has in Tel Aviv, told us we should stop by sometime, have a beer, just have fun. I remember him each evening on the bench near the dorms, always surrounded by friends. So easy to talk with. So open and down to earth. Basketball was his life, the pub was his love.
Alon was taken from us, his friends, on one horrific noon, in the pub he saw as home. He was shot dead in one lousy second, and his empty chair in front of me in this huge class still awaits his return. 'Alon is gone', the WhatsApp text said, and it took me awhile to understand what I was reading. I first hoped it was a mistake, a cruel joke.
It wasn't.
Your mom is a wreck, Alon. She said she cannot deal with it, her baby boy being gone. From the little I heard of her, I have no doubt she will survive this, she has her family, and our people to support her. But you were her rock. And now you're just gone.
I lit a candle at our college, one for you, one for Shimi. Your smile is visible from the pictures about the table, many of your friends took a minute to look at how incredibly handsome and special you were, just from those photos. But I didn't need any of those. I got the privilege of seeing and meeting you in person. Remembering what an amazing man you were.
I could have made this thread all about anger and vengeance and spiteful words. But that's not the place for that. I chose to make this thread about Alon, Son of David Bakal. I miss you, my friend. I mourn for you. I hope you find your rest in heaven, I hope you're happy wherever you are.
Lipaz
I didn't know Alon Bakal that much, I barely noticed the wide-eyed and shy boy when he first entered our debate class in Netanya college, sheepish boy yet well aware of himself. One of my other classmates laughed at him as they both found their seats in the row next to me. "Alon," he said, "What are we even doing here?" he asked, and Alon, with such confidence, said- "This class is much better than the other nonsense they teach."
When he stood and gave his speech in front of the class, even the most detached, bored student took the time to listen. Alon had his way of making the audience love him. so aware, enthusiastic with people, but at the same time, shy and quiet in small conversations.
I remember him being the joker, most handsome boy in class, but he modest, in his own way. Incredibly friendly and respectful to others, total gentleman... He told us about this place he has in Tel Aviv, told us we should stop by sometime, have a beer, just have fun. I remember him each evening on the bench near the dorms, always surrounded by friends. So easy to talk with. So open and down to earth. Basketball was his life, the pub was his love.
Alon was taken from us, his friends, on one horrific noon, in the pub he saw as home. He was shot dead in one lousy second, and his empty chair in front of me in this huge class still awaits his return. 'Alon is gone', the WhatsApp text said, and it took me awhile to understand what I was reading. I first hoped it was a mistake, a cruel joke.
It wasn't.
Your mom is a wreck, Alon. She said she cannot deal with it, her baby boy being gone. From the little I heard of her, I have no doubt she will survive this, she has her family, and our people to support her. But you were her rock. And now you're just gone.
I lit a candle at our college, one for you, one for Shimi. Your smile is visible from the pictures about the table, many of your friends took a minute to look at how incredibly handsome and special you were, just from those photos. But I didn't need any of those. I got the privilege of seeing and meeting you in person. Remembering what an amazing man you were.
I could have made this thread all about anger and vengeance and spiteful words. But that's not the place for that. I chose to make this thread about Alon, Son of David Bakal. I miss you, my friend. I mourn for you. I hope you find your rest in heaven, I hope you're happy wherever you are.
Lipaz
