Six people were killed in a terrible shooting attack at a bus station at Ramot Junction in Jerusalem on Monday, Sept. 8. At least 12 others were injured in the shooting at the busy junction on Monday morning, when two Palestinian assailants started firing at two buses standing, before being shot by a soldier and civilians at the site of the attack. It’s another terrible event in a cycle of violence that we wish could come to an end.
These are the names of the victims, along with their stories.
Yaakov Pinto, 25
Pinto came to Israel from Spain as an adult, joined a Yeshiva and found his bashert in the country. Pinto’s parents could not attend his wedding, but they did travel from Spain for his funeral. The 25-year-old Yeshiva student was on the way to a teaching gig when he got caught in the middle of the shooting in Ramot.
“There’s a terror attack, I love you, tell my parents that I love them,” were his final words to his wife on the phone from the site of the shooting, according to his aunt’s speech at his funeral. His rabbi shared that he was “a pillar of our yeshiva,” and his friend, who went to identify his body, said that he died with a smile.
Rabbi Levi Yitzhak Pash, 57
Rabbi Pash, a father of six, was a student at Yeshiva Kol Torah. His daughter, Hadas, who became secular but remained close to her father, was planning to surprise him at her law school graduation later this week, where she would reveal that she graduated with honors.
“He was very happy I went to study law. He always took interest, asked questions. It’s been a while since I left the fold, but he accepted me. He never said a bad word. He didn’t ask questions about my way of life, he didn’t want me to feel uncomfortable. He would always look me in the eyes, we had an understanding of a lot of love,” Hadas told Ynet.
“I can’t look into my mother’s eyes; she is going to spend Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur and Sukkot alone,” Hadas also shared. “I can’t believe it’s happening. My parents really loved each other, they had a great love.”
“My dad, I can’t believe I’m talking about him in past tense, was a very good person,” Hadas said at his funeral. “He always cared for us and always guided us and always took interest in us, and now he is gone. We grew up a very connected family and had a lot of experiences together. We would travel a lot. My dad loved this country, he never left it. The only time he left it was on reserve during the Lebanon War. He always studied, was always with a book. We got books out his clothes, all full of blood.”
Yisrael Matzner, 28
The son of a rabbi from Bnei Brak, and father of three, was killed in the attack on Monday. His friends remembered him as a studious learner of Torah and an always cheerful person. “We can’t process the enormity of this tragedy,” they shared. Hundreds participated in his funeral procession this week in Bnei Brak.
His father called him a pure soul, a tzadik, and a deep deep deep personality. “We sometimes had trouble understanding your depth, how deep it goes,” he said. He also spoke about how his son was named after his great-grandfather, who always dreamed of Israel and finally got to go there late in life.
Rabbi Yosef David, 43
“Rabbi David was always happy, with a wide smile on his face, regardless of the financial difficulties he faced in life,” his family shared. “He raised his four children with total devotion.” The [oldest child] is 10, the youngest barely a year old. David spent his days at the kollel, studying Torah, while his widow worked as a preschool teacher.
“We are usually a kollel of young people, used to going to brises, bar mitzvahs, not funerals. Rabbi Yosef, I am truly ashes at your feet,” the head of his kollel said at his funeral.
Sarah Mendelson, 60
Sarah, known as Sarita to her friends and co-workers, was a mother and a grandmother. She worked for Bnei Akiva; she was sitting at the junction, waiting for her friend to drive her to the organization’s leadership offices, when the attack happened.
Sarita was, in a way, the mother of Bnei Akiva. “She sat in the CEO’s offices, always cheerful and always smiling at everyone. She always thought about how the money could go into work for kids and those who need it,” a co-worker shared with Ynet.
“Sarita, my wife, most precious of all, you were all the energy of kind-heartedness and [honesty]. All your actions were exemplary. You were an admired figure for all,” her husband said at her funeral.
“My mother did aliyah from Argentina at a young age out of a connection to Zionism,” her son shared in an interview. “The most important thing for her was to be a human being. She always smiled at everyone, even when they would have a discussion, it was important to her not to hate and to respect each other.”
Rabbi Mordechai Steintzag, 79
Steintzag was known to many a health-conscious Israeli as Dr. Mark. A cardiologist by training, Steintzag made aliyah from Pennsylvania four decades ago; perusing the aisles at his local grocery store, he was concerned about the lack of healthy bread options. Steintzag decided to take matters into his own hands. When he started his business in 1993, from his tiny home bakery, he would make bread deliveries himself, riding his bike through town. Now, Dr. Mark’s breads adorn the shelves of many an Israeli supermarket and health food store.
“He was a beloved appreciated and inspiring figure, and dedicated his life to ways of health and humanity,” the Dr. Mark business page shared on Instagram. “For him, bread wasn’t just food, it was a symbol of warmth, home, belonging and giving. Through bread, he connected people and brought comfort.
“He was a man with a heart of gold,” the current CEO of Dr. Mark’s Bakery told Ynet. “A few years ago, he retired and sold this place to my father, but he kept coming here and approving every new bread being developed… He always took care of all the workers at the bakery… There was a real family environment.”
May their memories be for a blessing.
