YAFFA ADAR-85 YEAR OLD ISRAELI HOSTAGE VICTIM GETS CONCERT INVITATION FROM ANDREA BOCELLI

The 85-year-old former Hamas hostage and Holocaust survivor Yaffa Adar whispered songs of Andrea Bocelli to herself every morning while in captivity to give her courage for a new day. The granddaughter Adva Adar of released hostage Yaffa Adar (85) is reading the letter Andrea Bocelli wrote to Yaffa.Happy tears ❤️. Bocelli has invited her to one of his shows and or perform a private concert for her. He will pay for her to travel to wherever he is for the concert. “I wish I could hug you,Bocelli wrote". I say BRAVO!

NAAMA LEVY-ISRAELI HOSTAGE-BRING HER HOME

The mother of a 19-year-old women held hostage in Gaza published a heartfelt plea Friday for her daughter’s release and warned time was running out. Naama Levy was seen in a video from Gaza on October 7 following her kidnapping with her hands tied and bloodied sweatpants, giving rise to widespread speculation that she had been sexually abused by her abductors. “You have seen the video of my daughter Naama Levy,” Ayelet Levy Shachar wrote on the Free Press website. “Everyone has. You have seen her dragged by her long brown hair from the back of a Jeep at gunpoint, somewhere in Gaza, her gray sweatpants covered in blood. “You may have perhaps noticed that her ankles are cut, that she’s barefoot and limping. She is seriously injured. She is frightened. And I, her mother, am helpless in these moments of horror.” Levy Shahar underlined fears that Hamas terrorists are continuing to abuse her and other women in captivity, as mounting evidence points to multiple instances in which terrorists on October 7 raped and sexually assaulted women before executing them. “There are seventeen young women still in captivity. They range in age from 18 to 26. I think of what they, and my Naama, could be subjected to at every moment of the day. Each minute is an eternity in hell,” she wrote. “On Monday, State Department spokesman Matthew Miller said that one of the reasons Hamas doesn’t want to release the young female hostages is they don’t want these women to be able to talk about what happened to them during their time in custody. Everyone knows exactly what he means,” Levy Shahar continued.

“What would you do if your daughter was being held hostage by violent rapists and murderers for two months? Perhaps the better question is: What wouldn’t you do?” she asked. Levy was taken captive by Hamas terrorists from the Nahal Oz army base. She had just finished her course the previous Wednesday to become an observation soldier at Nahal Oz, tasked with monitoring the border. She arrived at the army base on Thursday and was taken hostage on Saturday morning. Long before Hamas’s October 7 onslaught — when thousands of terrorists streamed over the border, killed some 1,200 people, the majority of them civilians, and kidnapping some 240 more — surveillance soldiers from Nahal Oz reported signs of unusual activity along the tumultuous Gaza border, situated a kilometer from them.

THE MASSACRE OF 1500 JEWS IN ISRAEL BY TERRORISTS ON OCTOBER 7TH, 2023-NEVER AGAIN IS NOW!

 

REMEMBER THEIR NAMES!
One month ago today on October 7th,2023 over 1,400 Israeli men, women and children were brutally massacred by Hamas terrorists. 

Some of the victims have still not been identified because their bodies were so mutilated    

Remember their names. 

May their memory be a blessing but they will never rest in peace because they suffered such horrific deaths by the terrorists whose only interest is to murder all the Jewish people in the world.

                        
  NEVER AGAIN IS NOW!

ANOTHER BIRTHDAY

  

ANOTHER BIRTHDAY

My older son Steven Nathaniel Wolkoff would have been 45 years old today.

What can a parent say on the birthday of their dead child?

A living child asks for a birthday party. 

As they become older, you, as the parent, ask them what they want for their birthday. There’s dialogue. 

It’s tradition to remember your child's birthday, to not do so ignores that they lived.

But what exactly is a parent supposed to do on the birthday of their child when he is gone?

Not gone, as in out of town or at the beach, or out of the country. Gone as in, no longer alive.

A dead child doesn’t want. 

A dead son asks for nothing.

What does a mom or dad and siblings do?

Where’s the rule book for recognizing birthdays of a dead child?

Steven was born on the first day of Fall and died on the first day of Summer. 

There is something odd to me about the the significance of the equinox and solstice in his life and its parallel meaning to the Earth. 

If the autumnal equinox represents balance, then the summer solstice was most certainly the day we felt our world come to a deafening halt on the longest day of the year.

Steven lies dead in a grave because of the negligence and indifference of those who killed him, stole his life at the age of 30, and have tried to erase that he ever lived.

I mourn what was, what could of been, and what will never be.

You deserved so much better my son, it just wasn't meant to be. 

Love, Dad 

ANOTHER BIRTHDAY

 

ANOTHER BIRTHDAY

My older son Steven Nathaniel Wolkoff would have been 44 years old today.

What can a parent say on the birthday of their dead child?

A living child asks for a birthday party. 

As they become older, you, as the parent, ask them what they want for their birthday. There’s dialogue. 

It’s tradition to remember your child's birthday, to not do so ignores that they lived.

But what exactly is a parent supposed to do on the birthday of their child when he is gone?

Not gone, as in out of town or at the beach, or out of the country. Gone as in, no longer alive.

A dead child doesn’t want. 

A dead son asks for nothing.

What does a mom or dad and siblings do?

Where’s the rule book for recognizing birthdays of a dead child?

Steven was born on the first day of Fall and died on the first day of Summer. 

There is something odd to me about the the significance of the equinox and solstice in his life and its parallel meaning to the Earth. 

If the autumnal equinox represents balance, then the summer solstice was most certainly the day we felt our world come to a deafening halt on the longest day of the year.

Steven lies dead in a grave because of the negligence and indifference of those who killed him, stole his life at the age of 30, and have tried to erase that he ever lived.

I mourn what was, what could of been, and what will never be.

You deserved so much better my son, it just wasn't meant to be. 

Love, Dad 

ANOTHER BIRTHDAY-STEVEN NATHANIEL WOLKOFF

  

ANOTHER BIRTHDAY

My older son Steven Nathaniel Wolkoff would have been 46 years old today.

What can a parent say on the birthday of their dead child?

A living child asks for a birthday party. 

As they become older, you, as the parent, ask them what they want for their birthday. There’s dialogue. 

It’s tradition to remember your child's birthday, to not do so ignores that they lived.

But what exactly is a parent supposed to do on the birthday of their child when he is gone?

Not gone, as in out of town or at the beach, or out of the country. Gone as in, no longer alive.

A dead child doesn’t want. 

A dead son asks for nothing.

What does a mom or dad and siblings do?

Where’s the rule book for recognizing birthdays of a dead child?

Steven was born on the first day of Fall and died on the first day of Summer. 

There is something odd to me about the the significance of the equinox and solstice in his life and its parallel meaning to the Earth. 

If the autumnal equinox represents balance, then the summer solstice was most certainly the day we felt our world come to a deafening halt on the longest day of the year.

Steven lies dead in a grave because of the negligence and indifference of those who killed him, stole his life at the age of 30, and have tried to erase that he ever lived.

I mourn what was, what could of been, and what will never be.

You deserved so much better my son, it just wasn't meant to be. 

Love, Dad 

MOM-DOROTHY WOLKOFF

  

I thought of you with love today
but that is nothing new

I thought about you yesterday
and days before that too,
I think of you in silence
I often speak your name

All I have are memories
and your picture in a frame.

Your memory is my keepsake
with which I’ll never part
I have you in my heart.

Hug me strongly, and carry me home

Dear Mom, one more kiss again

I thought of you today, but that is nothing new. I thought about you yesterday and days before that too. I think of you in silence, I often speak your name. All I have are memories and your picture in a frame. Your memory is a keepsake from which I’ll never part. God has you in His arms, I have you in my heart.

See more at: http://www.idlehearts.com/?p=24438I thought of you with love today

Today is the day that my Mother, Dorothy Wolkoff died on June 30th,1997. It was sudden and there was never a chance to say goodbye.
 

My mom was the strongest, toughest, most courageous, gentle, caring person I have ever known. 

Biology aside, mom's can be magical human beings. A mother's love is unlimited, it can heal us, make us feel safe, and inspire us. My mother was all that and more. How lucky I am.

She taught me much, but in particular, emphasized the importance of self pride, work/life ethics, compassion, caring, and being humble. 

In spite of her hard life, she provided for my sister and myself, by doing whatever was necessary for us to live, we never lacked for anything because of her grueling unselfish efforts. 

My mother was the only one who believed in me, particularly during my youth, and stubbornly never gave up, no matter how much I screwed up. 

Without her support during my most difficult years as a youngster, a wild acting out teenager, she ALWAYS stood up to me, for me, guided me, and refused to give in, or give up on me. It was not easy for her to do that, but she would not back down, ever.

My mother literally saved my life many times, she was one of a kind, I will always remember and love her for that. I told my mom in many different ways over the years how much she eventually contributed to my taking the correct productive path with my life all because of her. 

I spent much of my adult life making my mother proud of me, telling her how much I loved her. 

Whatever is good in me, came from my mother. 

I love and miss you mom.

STEVEN NATHANIEL WOLKOFF-SEPTEMBER 23, 1977- JUNE 21, 2008

                                           

                                                     

....................................................................................................................................................

 Also - CLICK ON HERE & LISTEN TO AN ORIGINAL INSTRUMENTAL WRITTEN & COMPOSED IN MEMORY OF STEVEN NATHANIEL WOLKOFF, CALLED "STEVEN'S SONG".  This composition is a quiet and moving work and is meant to serve as a tribute to the life of Steven Wolkoff. It makes use of simple but haunting harmonies and a melody that will stay with the listener long after its final notes have finished sounding. 

SEPTEMBER 23, 1977- JUNE 21, 2008

BELOVED SON, BROTHER,GRANDSON,

NEPHEW, COUSIN, CHERISHED LOVE

GOOD FRIEND

GENTLY THEY GO,

THE BEAUTIFUL,

THE TENDER, THE KIND

FOREVER IN OUR HEARTS

FRIDAY, JUNE 21,2019

Today is the anniversary of the eleventh year of an eternity in agony, marking the horrific day, June 21, 2008, that my oldest child, Steven Nathaniel Wolkoff, was cruelly killed at the age of 30, his life brutally stolen from him, family, friends, me. 

I dread the coming of this day every year.

Steven died on the first day of Summer, it was 5 PM on a Saturday afternoon, exactly 11 years ago.

It seems so much longer than 11 years have gone by since we lost him. 

I still feel that it cannot be true, somehow suddenly he will appear, call me on the phone, or send me an email. That feeling never leaves, it is always there, I will wake up from this nightmare, and Steven will be here, alive.

There are mornings that I wake up believing for a few seconds that Steven is alive and it was just a horrible nightmare that he is dead. Then the reality strikes me full force in the face and gut,that he is dead forever, how can that be?

Oh how he loved the summer months and life itself. He was looking forward to it all, never realizing that his life would end that day in 2008.

I posted the other pictures above of Steven because they are some of my favorite ones, and also he is so real, alive in them, and for a second, he seems to actually be here.

Today, on this eleventh anniversary of Steven's tragic death, if you can, please take a moment now to remember who Steven was and how deeply he is missed by each of us.

The last time I spoke to Steven, was on the phone,Tuesday evening, June 17 , 2008.

I didn't know that moment was going to be our last.
The last time I would talk to you, and hear your beautiful voice.

The last time I would tell you that I loved you, and hear you say “I love you too dad”. Strong and so real, so vibrant and alive.

A smiling face, with twinkling eyes, your special smile, my fine young man, my oldest child.

The shattered remnant of my heart with holes so black and fathomless no light can ever fill. I am and will be in shock forever.

Time has passed before me, so bleak and dark and long, the wind that whispers through the trees, the brightest star at night, the rain on a dismal day, my endless dreams, nightmares, the constant thoughts, hearing the door bell ringing, seeing the 2 Nassau County Policeman at my door at 4 AM asking me politely if they could come inside, no eye contact from them.

I knew and asked them "which one of my children", their response "do you have a son Steven living in San Francisco, he was killed in a car collision". 

That moment is frozen in my mind, repeating itself endlessly almost every waking and sleeping moment of my life.

The tragic death of Steven was caused by stupid, senseless acts. Every day, each night, my mind is focused on the highway at the collision, looking at the photos of Steven’s face while he is alive on a stretcher placed on the highway and then later, he is dead, covered by a tarp on that same highway.

The collision seems less a random act, and more determined, by a series of factors, not so benign, each one a contributing cause of my son’s death.

Steven was killed not by accident, but by horribly connected actions, and inaction's, of many others, each building on the impact of the other. Steven’s death began when distinct acts of design and error grew to become the chaos of negligence.

Steven was killed by the lack of highway signage, a secret California State cover up of a structurally flawed highway design known as a "death trap", whose design errors were deliberately never corrected,violating the written safety codes of the  same government department responsible for building the highway, and the carelessness of a local community program, having a gathering, unaware that their visitors, were parking, turning, merging, clogging this already too narrow stretch of road that had no separate turning lanes.

Steven was killed by a 21 year old drug impaired driver, who did not even have a driver’s license, an illegal alien. His danger to others not in his thoughts, but mostly I think he just didn't care about the effects of his irresponsible actions on Steven.

Steven was killed by an army of first responders, Paramedics, Emergency Medical Technicians, Police, Firefighters, and Park Rangers, etc., busy littering the highway with equipment, while they tried to look busy and important.

Steven courageously lived for about an hour after the collision while multiple systems of rescue professionals failed to get him to the hospital, and were unable to properly provide a minimum standard of the medical skills that they were trained to perform.

The first responders panicked, although Steven was breathing on his own, they performed an unnecessary medical procedure that they had never before done in their life. It is called a Needle Cricothyroidotomy which they failed to do properly and in doing this they missed his airway, suffocating him, vital oxygen crushing against his heart, lungs and diaphragm, taking his breath away, and horrifically killing him.

The responder’s mission, to keep Steven medically stabilized for triage care at the Hospital, failed, lost in a few hundred square feet of disorder, with no one in charge, no one leading, standing, telling, helping, shouting, or recognizing the obvious signs of their medical errors.

My son Steven was killed by carelessness, thoughtlessness, and negligence on the part of multiple entities and individuals.

A gifted, talented, precious, irreplaceable, meaningful life was stolen from all of us who loved him deeply, because of the actions of so many who, each in their own way, miserably failed to help Steven, all destroying Steven’s life.

I cannot believe that my son Steven lies buried in a grave so young, me dreaming of things that he was and might have been. 

  

I am not religious, nor do I believe in god, so the traditional Mourners Kaddish prayer for Steven are meaningless words to me. 

I have written my own Mourners Kaddish as a way to honor Steven, and I post it every year at this time.

It is my way of expressing that Steven left behind a legacy of goodness, and worthy descendants, those who loved him, who will always remember that he lived.

These sentences speak directly to Steven, because his pain and loss need to be honestly described in real words that accurately reflect my true feelings.               

STEVEN NATHANIEL WOLKOFF'S MOURNERS KADDISH

Steven Nathaniel Wolkoff, Shmuel Nacham Ben Yaakov,  (Samuel Nathan, Son of Jerry).
                      
September 23, 1977- June 21, 2008

I am sorry that you are dead.

I am sorry you suffered so painfully, on that awful day, as you fought to stay alive.

I am sorry for the agony you felt, I see it in your eyes, face, and body from the horrific evidence photos.  I see and feel it in my endless nightmares.

I am sorry for the fear, terror, unimaginable pain you felt in fighting for your life, as they killed you. I know the truth of your courage in being able to fight so bravely to stay alive.

I am sorry for you because you were not killed by accident, but instead by the senseless, stupid, careless, actions of so many others who could have saved your life, but instead, each in their own way, miserably failed you that day, never realizing or even considering taking responsibility, or accountability for the consequences of their actions, inaction's, indifference, and incompetence.

I am sorry you died not due to fate, nor randomly, but were instead killed by the cascading chaos of connected, dysfunctional, defective entities and others, all who caused your preventable death.

I am sorry that you died because the State of California did not care about your life and decided not to fix a dangerously unsafe road, instead they deliberately hid the structural defects in the highway that made it into a death trap.

I am sorry that you died because of the 21 year old drug impaired driver speeding out of control into your car. His danger to you not in his thoughts, but mostly I think he just didn't care about the effects of his irresponsible actions.

I am sorry about the inept, licensed, qualified, medical first responders who had no idea, not a clue, of what they were doing medically to you as they killed you. They have no consciences and lied afterward to hide how they murdered you in cold blood.

I am sorry for you, that so many corrupt, ugly cowards of evil, who have evidence of the truth, but have no conscience to speak up, remain silent, lie, omit, refuse to come forward to admit their responsibility in covering up the true facts that all contributed to killing you.

I am sorry for those whose toxic evil allowed all of the above to be done to you and escaped from being held accountable for participating in your death.

I am sorry that your soul and body were desecrated in death.   

I am sorry for the wicked hideous ones who desecrated your body in death and refuse to take accountability for their violation of your body, your soul.

I am sorry that it has took us five years to finally successfully legally force the spiteful, hateful,evil San Mateo County Coroner to release your final remains for proper burial.

I am sorry that you died in spite of the true medical facts that show you should be alive today.

I am sorry for all the multitude of evil ones who have tried to defame you and disrespect your name, your life.

I am sorry that life is so cheap and yours has no value to those who killed you, trying to erase you ever existed.

I am sorry that the Legal system is weak, corrupt and I was not able to obtain justice for you. I failed to accomplish getting that Justice for you, please forgive me.

I am sorry for my failing as your father to keep you from dying.

I am sorry you did not leave the beach one second earlier or later to return home that day of June, 21, 2008.

I am sorry that I was not there to protect you.

I am sorry that I was not there that day to comfort you, hold you, ease your pain.

I am sorry that I don't know the last thoughts in your mind before you died.

I am sorry that you died alone, with strangers, and no one even had the courage, kindness to hold your hand.

I am sorry that you died lying on a hot highway pavement, in a place unfamiliar, in the middle of nowhere.

I am sorry that no one had the decency to cover your right arm and both feet, as you lay dead under the blue tarp.

I am sorry the Medvac trauma helicopter was delayed in arriving there by 4 minutes, too late to stop the killer first responders from touching you.

I am sorry that I was not even able to protect your dignity in death.

I am sorry you cannot cry.

I am sorry you cannot scream.

I am sorry you cannot laugh.

I am sorry you cannot smile.

I am sorry you cannot feel.

I am sorry you cannot talk.

I am sorry you cannot breathe.

I am sorry you are silent forever. 

I am sorry that the world said nothing, heard nothing, says nothing about the injustices done to you.
  

I am sorry that it was you and not me.

I am sorry that I had to bury you and that you didn't bury me first, as it should be.  

I am sorry for everything that I forgot to say now, or cannot, and did not say here.

I am sorry for YOU because you are not here, you are NO MORE on this earth. 

I am sorry that you cannot rest in peace.

More than anything, I am sorry that you didn't have a chance to say goodbye to those you loved.

Your family will always honor you, remember you, miss you, keep you in our heart, preserve your memory in lovingly telling future generations about you, and love you forever. 

We all miss you so very much.

I mourn what was, what could of been, and what will never be.

You deserved so much better my son, it just wasn’t meant to be.

Your brother, sister, mother, family, and others who love you, will do the same. We will never forget YOU, never stop loving you, our precious beloved Steven. NEVER.

Steven, I can only say, I am SORRY, SORRY, I am so SORRY.

My heart is broken, my Steven is gone, and we will mourn forever.

  -Amen. Love, Dad.