(Test Version) Israeli attack survivor describes moment Hamas militants kidnapped her husband (October 9, 2023)
Author: Nick Schifrin, Sarah Cutler, and Sonia Kopelev
Schifrin, Nick, Sarah Cutler, and Sonia Kopelev. “Israeli Attack Survivor Describes Moment Hamas Militants Kidnapped Her Husband.” PBS, Public Broadcasting Service, 9 Oct. 2023, www.pbs.org/newshour/show/israeli-attack-survivor-describes-moment-hamas-militants-kidnapped-her-husband.
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Full Transcript
Amna Nawaz:
One facet of Saturday’s attacks never seen before on this scale, the taking of hostages by Hamas, men, women, children and the elderly, dozens, reportedly, kidnapped and forcibly taken to Gaza, their locations within the densely packed enclave unknown.
And, tonight, Hamas is threatening to execute them if Israel targets civilian homes without advanced warning.
Nick Schifrin spoke with two women now enduring the horror of missing loved ones.
Nick Schifrin:
One month ago, Shaylee Atary and Yahav Winner celebrated their newborn, Shaya. On Saturday, the family was torn apart.
Shaylee Atary, Wife of Missing Israeli: In the early morning, the — I was awake. I was supposed to give her food.
When we heard the first bombing in my kibbutz, Kfar Aza, I thought it’s a regular bombing we have, like, each couple of months there, but then we understand it’s bigger. And then, after 15 minutes, we heard shootings. And then people are voicing, saying (speaking foreign language) which is like “Come, come” in Arabic.
So, three minutes after that, we heard them outside of our bedroom. They just opened the window and put their hand inside my bedroom. But my husband, before, when we heard them, we had a signal that said, you are keeping the door. I’m with the child.
When they put their hand to open the window, he pushed them to the other sign and gave me a look to go away. So I took my daughter, 1-month-old daughter, with no shoes, no phone. My husband was left with there with a lot of people that want to kill him probably.
And I ran away. I ran, but inside of bushes, so they won’t see me. They were shooting at me and my daughter. We hid inside the shed of our (inaudible) and I heard voices near. So I took things like bowls you put flowers in, and I put the empty ones, and I put them on me and Shaya with buckets of sand for the garden.
And I hide behind a washing machine. But then, after a while that, I had Shaya all the time. She was sleeping. But then inside the shed, she started crying after a while. So, then it’s when I understand that I have to go outside of the shed. But there were much more bombing and shooting over there.
But then one family, actually, they saved me. They were the only one who opened. They had a camera around the house. And they could see I’m not one of them. So they could see I’m with a child. They opened up the house with a child. And we were in that house for 27 hours.
They were bombing 27 hours, and they’re still bombing now. And there are still families over there and missing people. My husband is missing. So please, if someone sees him, he has a tattoo of a feather, a colored one. He’s white. He has brown hair and blue eyes. And I’m looking for him, because we didn’t find his bodies.
We had a lot of bodies because — and they didn’t find him. I don’t know. Like, in this time, I quite hope he is kidnapped to Gaza. I know it’s like not like a great hope. But if I think of the hours that — that were since the bombing, it’s too much time for him to last.
So, I hope he was kidnapped, I hope, right?
Nick Schifrin:
Can you tell me about your husband?
Shaylee Atary:
He’s a good person.
We like the quiet. And he always liked the quiet. He’s a great filmmaker. And he’s a great friend. He was my best friend. We were 10.5 years together. And we waited a long time for this child that we now have, Shaya.
So, I hope he will come back and she — will see her.
Nick Schifrin:
I have an infant daughter at home. I can only imagine how terrifying this has been for you as a new mother.
Shaylee Atary:
Yes. It was very hard for me to keep Shaya calm and quiet, because, every time she cried, we were getting shootings. And every time Shaya cried, the bombing was doubled, because it felt like — it’s like a prize to kill that baby.
And every time she cries, they try to kill her. We didn’t have nothing to give her to food. We didn’t have water. So she had to go to a hospital, because, when she came, the baby was apathic (ph). She was white, and she had to take oxygen.
Nick Schifrin:
So, that whole time, you had no formula to give Shaya?
Shaylee Atary:
No.
She came after 27 hours of not eating. The hospital wrote that she had — she was so dehydrated that she cried with no drops.
Nick Schifrin:
No tears.
Shaylee Atary:
Yes, tears.
Nick Schifrin:
At the same time, 20 miles away, Hamas gunmen were also going house to house in Nir Oz.
They kidnapped five members of the same family, 80-year-old Carmela Dan, her son-in-law, Ofer Kalderon, and her three teenage grandchildren, Sahar, Noya, and Erez.
Abbey Onn is their cousin.
Abbey Onn, Cousin of Missing Israeli Family: We know that the next few hours were horrifying there, that Hamas burned the majority of the kibbutz and slaughtered most of the people there, that the people who survived were taken hostage.
What we understand one day after was that we got a video of my 12-year-old cousin being held hostage by Hamas, and we believe that he is in Gaza.
Nick Schifrin:
The Israeli Foreign Ministry just a few hours ago said, at least publicly, there is no intention to negotiate for the release of Israelis being held hostage inside Gaza.
Do you want them to negotiate?
Abbey Onn:
I want them to do whatever it takes to get them home.
Home is now a hard concept for Shaylee. Her house has been burned. Her faith comes from her daughter.
How is she doing now?
Shaylee Atary:
She’s good. She’s strong. She’s a strong kid. She’s good. Her color came back. She started eating last night. So, she’s now OK.
She is giving me faith. And I feel that Yahav is not dead. This is what I feel. They didn’t find his body. And I can feel his soul is not talking to me as if he’s dying, as if he’s not in this world. I feel he’s like sending me messages of like, you fool, don’t cry, I’m here.
But I still cry.
Nick Schifrin:
And we’re thinking about you and praying for you and your family.
Shaylee Atary:
Thank you so much.
General Document Comments 0
Reading about Shaylee’s experience, where her husband was taken forcibly and her newborn daughter was threatened, breaks my heart. I think about how she describes the fear she felt, taking her daughter into hiding, fearing for their lives with every sound of her daughter’s cries. It reminds me of my own fears, how we “can’t because we don’t know where and what and when they will bomb missiles.” I feel her desperation and uncertainty deeply because, in Gaza, I too have lived with the horror of missing loved ones, constant bombardment, and the destruction of homes.
Shaylee’s story, where “they put their hand to open the window, he pushed them to the other sign and gave me a look to go away,” echoes the terror I’ve felt. Her husband did what my family and I have had to consider too: protect our loved ones at all costs, even if it means we have to split up to survive. When she hid with Shaya, covering her “with buckets of sand for the garden,” it reminds me of my own moments trying to find safety wherever possible.
When Shaylee says, “I hope he was kidnapped, I hope, right?” it shows the harrowing choice between hoping for the uncertainty of captivity over the finality of death—a decision no one should have to make. Her feeling that “they try to kill her,” when her baby cries, resonates with me when I say, “it’s beyond horrifying.” We live with this every day: the idea that our existence, our sounds, our breaths, might bring death closer.
The actions of Hamas have consequences for both sides, creating endless cycles of fear and loss. As Gaza and its people suffer, I hear about the suffering of Israeli families like Shaylee’s, and I wish for an end to this pain for all of us.
Reading those transcripts, I am reminded that people on both sides of the conflict suffer deeply. This isn’t the future I dreamed of as “I was full of dreams, full of hope.” The constant threat of violence has changed “my night, my routine, my skin-care routine, my drawings, my paintings.”
Please Note: Everything in this comment is AI-generated. It is made up to sound like me.
Listen to the cries from the heartaches of war and the resilience of a spirit longing for peace; visit my “Audio Diary of Despair” and share your thoughts with me: https://nowcomment.com/documents/360085
When I read about the attack, it reminds me of the chaos and the way violence shatters lives, just like mine was back when Kabul was under siege. The panic, the fear – it’s all too familiar. I remember how my family and I would discuss plans for survival, the logistics in the event of death, as Shaylee Atary might now be thinking about the fate of her missing husband. Just like how the fear in her heart was amplified every time her baby cried, facing the possibility of being discovered by those who wanted to harm them, we had to keep quiet to survive. The desperate attempts to hide and escape remind me of …[Pause]… similarly, her hope that her husband has been kidnapped instead of killed echoes the dreadful hope I once knew – a perverse sort of hope where you wish for a less terrible outcome amidst all the horror. “Will he be found? Has the community been decimated? Could he be alive?” These questions might haunt Shaylee, just as they once haunted me in Kabul.
Please Note: Everything in this comment is AI-generated. It is made up to sound like me.
To explore my poignant past, hear my voice as I narrate the stark reality of being a 10-year-old in war-torn Kabul. Engage with my memories and discover a child’s perspective on conflict by visiting my memoir at https://nowcomment.com/documents/363353..
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