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Julie D. Andrews

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Devorah Halberstam
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One grandmother's crusade against terrorism.

When the absolute, hands-down worst tragedy occurs in a mother's life, how does she go on? It was March 1, 1994 when Devorah Halberstam's son Ari, then 16 years old, was shot by a Muslim extremist as he crossed New York's Brooklyn Bridge in a van with his classmates. Days later, on life support, the teenager died.

Today, some 13 years forward, Halberstam says that a blackness, a death of her self in a way, replaced her heart. But through the grief, what emerged from this petite grandmother of five, is a political powerhouse, who confronts lawmakers daily to make sure that such horrors never get repeated on American soil. Through her tireless efforts, the attack on her son and his classmates was deemed as an act of terrorism and Ari's murderer got life in prison. So began Halberstam's accidental journey into global activism.

Instead of allowing the pain to paralyze her, this religious traditionalist began a one-woman crusade against terrorism. In between meeting with polticians and counterterrorism experts, Halberstam built the Jewish Children's Museum in Brooklyn, aimed at teaching tolerance. She recently took time to share with Grandparents.com the secret to her strength in the face of life's darkest depair.

Grandparents.com: How did your son Ari's tragic death change your perspective as a grandmother?

Devorah Halberstam: I am changed as a grandmother. I have this deeper appreciation for life. I love hearing about a normal day, when my daughter tells me what happened with the kids, because it is not a crisis. So, the kid spilled milk. Big deal. That to me is refreshing. Those are things I don't take for granted anymore.

And, my nerves have less tolerance. if something happens, terror hits me. I will never be free. I know my children will never be free — because of what happened. Now, I always need to know where they are. If they do not answer the phone — I go frantic.

GP: When you were feeling such sorrow, how did you find strength to not only carry on, but become active in putting new laws against terrorism into place?

DH: I come from a strong family. Something inside me just rose up. There was nobody I would not stand up to, not a door, not a person that would stop me from doing what I needed to do. As I went along, I changed the laws in the penal code as I saw what was wrong with them. Laws on immigration, gun control, terrorism. There were no anti-terrorism laws in the state of New York before. There was no precedent in the state of New York. I walked this path alone — this was something I was called for before September 11, 2001.

And, the love I have for my son gave me strength. He was a beautiful child — every parent's dream. He played basketball, wore a size 13-and-a-half sneaker. He had everything to live for.

GP: Why would you go to such great lengths to change the laws and get involved on a political level if these actions won't bring your son, Ari, back?

DH:
I spent over a decade in the courtroom and developed into an expert on terrorism. I got several laws passed. Ari doesn't belong to me anymore. Because he was murdered as an American on the Brooklyn Bridge — certainly as a Jew — he is part of the history of our city and our country. I look to other parents and grandparents and learn to love other people's children and grandchildren. I feel in a certain sense that I am protecting them.

GP: Not only have you worked with government officials to put new laws in place, you've also built a museum, a place your grandchildren and all children can go to learn and celebrate Ari's life and Jewish culture.

DH: Yes, the Jewish Children's Museum. I built it with my community in Ari's memory. It opened two years ago. Everybody was at the opening — Mayor Bloomberg, Hillary Clinton, city counsel officials. They were there to honor Ari's memory. There are 4,000 faces of children from all ethic groups and cultures on the wall of the museum. Its mission is to teach understanding and tolerance. Ari lived for this and he died for this — our belief — people can come in and we can teach them tolerance through education. We teach them why we do what we do. Why we have this culture and tradition. Our hope is that every ethnic group will do this.

GP: How do you still have so much love and hope in the face of hate and terror? How is that possible?

DH:
A lot of it has to do with who Ari was. He walked on that basketball ball court and everybody wanted to be on his team. He had a natural goodness and kindness about him. He would go visit older people who were Jewish and hear their stories. He had a love for all people. I don't want him to be remembered in any other way — that is not who we are. He was murdered in an act of terrorism and hatred — it was a political statement and that is why it was called an act terrorism. That is the antithesis of what we believe in — life, happiness. We don't live with hatred.

GP: How do you stay involved with your grandchildren?

DH: I love to call them. The internet doesn't give you a very good picture. My grandson in Australia was named after my son who was murdered. He really gives me a boost. If I ever feel down, he is my joy, he lifts me. Sometimes I call in the middle of the night if Ican't sleep — when it's daytime there — just to talk.

GP: What do your grandchildren call you?

DH: They call me Bubby, the Jewish version of grandmother.

GP: What's important to you as a grandmother?

DH: In every Jewish family, tradition is of the utmost importance. It's passed down. From his father's side, my son Ari came from a long line of rabbis. On my side, we are fifth-generation American. Most Jewish people who came here from Poland and Russia and other places wanted to assimilate when they arrived in America. They changed their names, their ways. Our family not only kept its name and religion, but every single one of my father's five brothers became a rabbi and great scholar. To me, one of the most important things — I hope it's the same with my grandkids — is the Sabbath. I work very hard, I have a career, I built a museum, but I spend Fridays in the kitchen and do all my work by phone.

GP: What's a special tradition you share with your grandchildren?

DH: Rosh Ha'Shanah is about ten days away — this and Yom Kippur are the holiest days for us across the board — especially in the Orthodox community. Preparation is very high — not only ceremoniously with cooking the foods, but the spiritual preparation is also very special. You would never know looking at me — but I cook up I can't tell you how many dishes!

GP: What legacy will you leave with your grandkids?

DH: I always want my grandchildren to remember the smell of my kitchen during the Sabbath. I don't buy take-out. I make everything myself. I love the idea that my home has that Sabbath smell. You can't buy that in a store. There is something to be said for doing it yourself. This is how you carry tradition.

GP: What is the one piece of advice you hope your grandchildren keep with them always?

DH: I have a career. But, in the Jewish culture, your priorities are your children and your home life, keeping them both stable. It's an important part of who we are. Being a whole family unit, that's what our community is all about.

GP: Does having grandchildren to share life with help you carry on?

DH: I will always have a sadness in my heart — but I have learned to laugh again. I have other children to raise and grandchildren to spend time with. There are no winners in this. Ari did die. But, we need to continue living. For him.

 

 


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