Rocket fire meets resilience with these people who made Aliyah.
For most of the past several weeks, rockets have been raining on Israel, disrupting everyday life as they send residents running for shelter at all hours. Flights in and out of the country have been canceled; schools have become virtual and residents are told not to stray too far from a bomb shelter.
And how are people faring emotionally? We check in with some Detroiters who made aliyah to see how they’re coping.
Cherna Bodzin Kowalsky, 84, lived in Detroit all her life. Together with Eugene, her husband of 62 years, the Kowalskys decided to follow their daughter, Lisa Bell (now known as Leeba Rosenthal), who made aliyah with her family about 25 years ago.
Unfortunately, after Eugene and Cherna had been cleared for aliyah by Nefesh B’Nefesh, Eugene passed away in October 2025. Although devastated, Cherna fulfilled her dream and made aliyah on her own three months later. She was greeted by her children, grandchildren and even great-grandchildren, who welcomed her at the airport with songs, balloons and a big homemade sign that read “Only cool bubbies make aliyah.”
On Feb 28, only one month after this euphoric arrival, reality took over when Israel and the U.S. began preemptive strikes on Iran after failed nuclear negotiations.
At the time, Cherna was spending Shabbat with her granddaughter’s family in Neve Michael in central Israel. All together, there were seven people and three dogs, all in good spirits as they crammed into the mamad (safe room), Cherna’s great-granddaughter’s bedroom, whenever the siren went off.
“There were several sirens that day, sending us to the safe room. One visit lasted well over an hour, but most were short,” Cherna recalled. “We sang and joked together.”
Since then, naturally, spirits have waned somewhat — sirens interrupt sleep, disrupt life and Cherna has lost count of how many times she’s had to hurry for shelter.
“Anything we do, first we have to consider how close we are to a mamad or a miklat [bomb shelter],” explained Cherna. “My daily walk is now confined to a three-block area. I have not been able to go to neighborhood shiurim [Torah study] for fear that I might be caught by a siren as I am walking. Even taking a shower is a challenge: Will I be caught by a siren?”
She pointed out that perhaps the situation is easier on her than young parents who must deal with the stress while also staying calm for the sake of their children, who might be struggling with the lack of routine.
“The alarms and sirens go off at all hours of day and night,” Cherna said. “I don’t have job responsibilities, or little children … Imagine having to take them to a safe room out of a sound sleep.”
These days, Cherna sleeps close to a mamad so she can get there within 90 seconds of a siren.
“I am nervous most of the time. I have to believe that G-d is protecting us and will bring us out of this safely and soon,” she said.
Even with the constant worry that colors her life these days, Cherna does not regret making aliyah and says she’s happier to be in Israel with her family than worrying about them from Detroit.
Focusing on the Positive
Tova (Levi) Weinberg was also born and raised in Detroit. In 2019, she made aliyah together with her husband, Joel; they now live in Jerusalem. Their children live in Ofakim, Ramat Beit Shemesh, Maale Adumim and Rehovot.
Tova Weinberg and her husband, Joel, at their daughter’s wedding.
“My daughter in Rehovot has had many missiles land near her, which is very frightening for her and the children,” Tova said. “Sirens and the sound of booms have become part of the fabric of life here … The closing of schools, while necessary for safety, is very difficult for children — not only educationally, but socially as well. We are always happy to help by babysitting when needed. The sirens are unpredictable. They can come in the middle of a shower or while brushing one’s teeth … I spend much of my time davening, speaking to Hashem and praying that this war will end soon.”
Both times that war broke out — on Oct. 7, 2023, and Feb. 28, 2026, Tova was in shul. Due to her central location, sirens are not heard as frequently as in other parts of the country, and she estimates she takes cover “only” about once a day, if that. Sometimes they receive warnings on their phones without any sirens.
There are miraculous stories circulating social media of bus-sized fragments of missiles crashlanding in populated areas with no injuries. There are also tragic cases of lives cut short and terrible injuries when missiles do make a direct hit.
Tova is surviving the stress by actively choosing to focus on the positive and is constantly filled with appreciation.
“Baruch Hashem, no missiles have landed anywhere near us,” Tova said. “I am deeply grateful to the IDF, and to the families who send their husbands, sons and daughters to protect the rest of us. I am grateful to the Israeli army, to the American army and to the American families who have sent their children to serve. I am grateful to the leadership, regardless of politics, for keeping us standing, and I’m grateful simply to be alive … Most of all, I am grateful to our Ultimate Leader, Hashem.
“I feel it is the greatest privilege in the world to live in our holy land, Eretz Yisroel, and to witness the daily miracles happening all around us. Am Yisroel Chai!”
‘I Feel Safer Here’
Aviva Gordon also lived in Detroit her entire life; she made aliyah in 2019 at age 59.
Aviva Gordon enjoys chatting with IDF soldiers.
When the war broke out in February, she was in Bnai Brak visiting an Israeli friend who had recently returned to live in Israel.
“Actually, at the exact moment, I was in shul,” Aviva said. “It was Shabbat morning. We were reading Parshat Zachor, which talks about the actions of our enemy, Amalek, and how we need to get rid of him … and that was when Ali Khamenei, the Supreme Leader of Iran, was taken down and everything started.”
Aviva lives in Ramat Beit Shemesh and says that, compared to residents who live in other parts of the country, she’s only had to take cover “a few times.” Still, there’s no question it’s war time — buses are running less often, many activities are on hold and life has been thrown into general disarray.
Despite it all, Aviva is filled with joy and is happy to be exactly where she is.
“I actually feel safer here than in America, as crazy as it may sound,” explained Aviva. “At least we get warnings here when there’s a missile on its way. There was no warning before the attack on Temple Israel. There was no warning in Bondi, or in Pittsburgh, or before any of the antisemitic attacks anywhere else in the world. We’re hated and going to be attacked wherever we are.”
According to Aviva, the mood in Israel lately is naturally quite fearful with people running to mamads at the sound of sirens, but she doesn’t feel the need for panic.
“Maybe I’m crazy, but I’m not afraid,” Aviva said. “Of course, I take sensible precautions. I take cover when I hear a siren and stay away from windows in case cluster bombs break up windows. But I’m also aware that the only thing that can save us is G-d.
“Hashem decides who will live and who will die, who will be scared and who will be calm … We’re living in a land of miracles and every time I hear a big boom from the Iron Dome, I feel like it’s literally the hand of Hashem saying, ‘Not on my people!’”
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