There’s a tiny street in Old Jaffa ending in a cliffside cul-de-sac and spectacular view of the Mediterranean. This is where my father and family finally found home after fleeing persecution in Romania, enduring a British internment camp on Cyprus, and an immigrant transit camp in Israel. A government agency assigned them to the house based on family size and what was available.
For Holocaust survivors, a tiny, modest stone home (my dad’s bedroom had no ceiling) was a major upgrade after months of tents and barbed wire. It was not easy. They had to navigate an unfamiliar culture, find employment, and learn Hebrew. But they were grateful. My dad says this is when his life started.
At the end of the street lived an important neighbor: Yitzhak Sadeh. I had not heard of him even though I’ve visited that street before. But we should all know his name.
Yitzhak Sadeh was the legendary commander of the Palmach and a founder of the Israel Defense Forces. Nicknamed "The Old Man," he served as Chief of the General Staff of the Haganah, orchestrating operations against British forces and leading Aliyah Bet, the immigration network that brought post-WWII European refugees, like my father and family, safely to the country. He was a founder of the Gadna pre-military program in 1941, serving as its first unofficial commander. A military visionary who fundamentally shaped modern Israeli defense tactics, he also was a writer of articles, books, and plays.
Born in Poland, Sadeh served in the Russian army during World War I, was decorated for bravery and became a battalion commander. He immigrated to Israel in 1920.
Sadeh was a leader during a tumultuous period of change, development and growth. My dad says those volatile times required daring leaders and there were many like Sadeh. Turbulence is upon us again. We need a new generation of Sadeh trailblazers who possess the courage, wisdom and backbone to step forward, and guide us.
But leadership cannot be the responsibility of only a few. Each of us must step up to ensure a secure future.
These closed doors lead to several homes on a small street in Jaffa, including the site of my father’s home in Israel.
The view at the end of the street where my father and Yitzhak Sadeh lived.
