I often write articles about people whose names adorn street signs in cities across the State of Israel, with the goal to learn about individuals who have left their mark on the Jewish nation. Nowadays, new names are emblazoned in public areas across our country, and their legacies are inspiring our country.
Since October 7, grassroots campaigns have taken place to educate the public about our heroic warriors who died al kiddush Hashem protecting our nation. The medium used is the humble bumper sticker. These stickers usually feature the person’s name, photo, date of passing, and a quote or value reflecting their spirit.
What began with a few stickers has evolved into a widespread movement of creating memorials comprising many stickers. These memorials now appear in various public spaces – elevators at Ben Gurion Airport, bus stops, lamp posts, train stations, and pedestrian bridges – wherever people gather.
All of our fallen heroes leave behind a legacy worthy of emulation. One poignant example is my dear friend Eli Moshe Zimbalist. Despite his passing at just 21, Eli Mo left a profound impact. The fact that I call Eli Mo a dear friend, when he was barely a third my age, highlights his unique ability to create meaningful relationships with people of all ages and all backgrounds. His sticker bears the Hebrew words “Don’t wait for them to ask, just help!” encapsulating his essence as a caring, proactive individual.
Obviously, a bumper sticker cannot properly reflect the fullness of a person’s essence. There’s so much more to say about Eli Mo, including his magical hands that he used to fix and build, his powerful work ethic, his disdain for wasting time, and his tremendous love of family and community, but the sticker campaign is a good start. Eli Mo’s legacy of unity and responsibility serves as an inspiring message for our nation.
The rise in stickers has led many to photograph them, preserving the memory of these fallen heroes. Watching these photographers in action generates a well of emotions, beautifully described by Rabbi Dr. Allen Selis, who shared the following moving encounter: “I’m about to step onto the train when I catch one last glance of the soldier opposite me. He’s done snapping pictures, but pauses before he turns away from the Coke machine. He reaches up and touches one of the stickers, then pulls his hand back to kiss his fingers. The way we kiss a mezuzah upon leaving home. Or the way many kiss a Torah scroll when it passes near us in synagogue. Or the way we caress a gravestone before leaving the cemetery, embracing the memory of the one we’ve lost by sharing one last kiss. Train doors open. Separately we climb on board. Both of us holding on to something that we can’t quite leave behind.”
May we never leave our courageous and holy heroes’ legacies behind.
