Omer Neutra, who grew up on LI, hailed as a symbol of hope, courage
Omer Neutra played basketball, soccer and volleyball. He made a "delicious" hummus. He and his brother, Daniel, would battle in video games like NBA2K and board games like Settlers of Catan. He could be quite serious — and absurdly "goofy."
He was a son, brother and friend, who grew up in Plainview.
But in the last 14 months, Omer became much more. His is the face and name so many on Long Island now associate with the tragic events of Oct. 7, 2023, the day when Hamas terrorists attacked Israel, killing more than 1,200 people and taking more than 200 hostage.
For 423 days, Omer's family and friends clung to the belief he was among those held in Gaza, that he was alive, that he would come home soon. It was Omer's smile we saw on posters plastered on store windows and telephone poles. It was his parents, Orna and Ronen, who traveled the world to talk about their son, to relentlessly beg those in power to bring him — and the other hostages — home. It was for Omer, and so many others, that people across Long Island and beyond rallied and prayed.
Sunday night, Orna and Ronen learned their son was killed in the Oct. 7 attacks and his body brought into Gaza, where it remains. After more than a year of hoping and pleading, of waiting for a sign Omer was alive, we all learned no such sign would come.
While at the Republican National Convention in Milwaukee this summer, I had the chance to hear from Orna and Ronen as they desperately tried to convey their message to anyone who would listen. I saw them cling to hope, as fear hung overhead. "Time is running out," Ronen said.
Omer was killed at age 21, just a week before his birthday. He initially went to Israel for a gap year before college, deferring his acceptance to SUNY Binghamton. Then, he stayed, enlisting in the Israeli Defense Forces, wanting to help the land he loved. There, he commanded a tank near Gaza, defending his country against Hamas' invasion. There, Hamas killed him.
Traditionally, Jewish families mourn and bury their loved ones as quickly as possible. Omer's parents had to wait 14 long months — and a burial still isn't possible. Yet, family, friends and hundreds who came to know Omer only after he was gone gathered at Syosset's Midway Jewish Center Tuesday to pray and remember.
The tragedy of losing someone so young in all and any circumstances always hits hard.
"No 23-year-old should ever have to stand in front of you and eulogize his childhood friend," one friend said from the synagogue's podium.
While his name is now known across the world, while his face has become a symbol of terror and loss, Omer was also like any other 21-year-old young man, with his whole life ahead of him. Friends recalled Omer's smile, his laugh, his good nature, his desire to win at any game or sport. A classmate remembered an "outlandish" banana costume he wore in fifth grade. Omer's brother, Daniel, recalled their "bro talk," when the two would chat "about everything" after their parents had gone to sleep. HIs mother told of how small she felt in her 6" 2' son's "powerful hugs."
Yet, each also noted how Omer, even now, can serve a larger purpose, as an inspiration, a symbol of hope and courage, a story that has, as Daniel said, "uplifted the story of our people."
May his memory be a blessing.
Columnist Randi F. Marshall's opinions are her own.