Published Articles

Originally appeared in jns.org, March 19, 2026

Home Front Command and “purple” initiatives help vulnerable populations access shelters, information and essential services.

As Iranian and Hezbollah missile attacks continue across Israel, people with disabilities and the elderly face unique and often overlooked challenges—from reaching shelters in time to coping with overstimulating environments once inside.

In response, the Home Front Command and a range of civil society initiatives are working to ensure that vulnerable populations remain safe, informed and supported.

For many, the obstacles are immediate and practical. Individuals who are deaf or hard of hearing may not hear warning sirens. Those with mobility impairments may struggle to access shelters. People with autism can find crowded, noisy spaces overwhelming.

“The most important thing is planning ahead and knowing the safest place,” said Tami Durst, the Home Front Command’s professional academic officer and desk commander for people with disabilities. “It is proven that following the guidelines and getting to a shelter on time saves lives.”

The Home Front Command has adapted its emergency guidance to reach diverse populations, offering materials in multiple languages, including English, Russian and Amharic, and tailoring content for different disabilities.

Services include sign-language training videos with subtitles, phone alerts using repeated vibrations or flashing lights for those who are deaf, and simplified, illustrated materials for people with intellectual disabilities.

“Booklets have illustrations and simply explain things such as what a missile is,” Durst said.

The agency conducts daily Zoom sessions for people with disabilities, partnering with organizations such as ALUT (autism), Elwyn (multiple disabilities) and Migdal Or (visual impairments).

In Israel, families can call 104 for assistance or request group briefings.

Shavvim volunteers operating the Purple Hotline, March 2026. Credit: Shavvim.

Nonprofits play key role

Beyond government efforts, nonprofit organizations are playing a critical role.

Access Israel estimates that roughly 25% of Israel’s population—about 2.6 million people—are individuals with disabilities or older adults who may need assistance during emergencies.

Shavvim, an advocacy and media platform focused on disability issues, estimates that more than 1.6 million Israelis live with disabilities, a number that has risen sharply since Oct. 7, 2023, due to injuries and trauma.

Both groups operate initiatives known as “purple” campaigns, a reference to the color associated with International Day of Persons with Disabilities.

Access Israel’s Purple Vest Mission mobilizes trained volunteers to assist individuals in reaching accessible shelters, relocating to protected housing when necessary and obtaining essential supplies during prolonged emergencies.

“Emergencies do not affect everyone equally,” said Michal Rimon, founder of the Purple Vest Mission and CEO of Access Israel. “For people with disabilities and older adults, it takes more time to reach safety; even a few seconds can mean the difference between safety and tragedy.”

Jamie Lassner, executive director of Accessibility Accelerator and a volunteer with the initiative, said the program’s impact lies in preparation.

“They understand accessibility, they understand disability, and they act with urgency, compassion and dignity,” she said. “That preparation is no longer theoretical. It is saving lives.”

Shavvim operates a “Purple Hotline,” offering emergency assistance and rights-based support for people with disabilities and their families.

The hotline grew out of an operations center established after the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks, fielding calls from individuals unable to reach shelters, access medication or evacuate safely. It also assisted newly injured reservists in navigating rehabilitation systems and the families of children with complex needs.

“We received calls from wheelchair users who couldn’t get to a safe room, from people needing food or medicine, and from parents struggling to care for children with special needs during constant alerts,” said Idan Motola, founder and CEO of Shavvim.

The hotline, relaunched on March 1 after a previous pause, has assisted more than 4,500 people to date. Among its efforts, volunteers distributed hundreds of tablets to children with autism spending extended periods in shelters.

Motola said hotline operators were called, inter alia, by families without protected spaces and from those unable to obtain medication or food, calls from parents of children with complex needs who could not evacuate safely, and from newly injured reservists encountering Israel’s rehabilitation and welfare systems for the first time.

“We received calls from wheelchair users who couldn’t get to a safe room or shelter, and from people with food requests, those with husbands on reserve duty, those needing to buy medicine and people needing help babysitting kids while they ran an errand. We also got requests for tablets for families of children with autism spending a lot of time in the shelter. We gave out 250!”

Shirly Pinto Kadosh, Israel’s first deaf member of Knesset and a longtime advocate for accessibility, said the initiative addresses critical gaps.

“People with disabilities in Israel still face dangerous barriers during war and daily life alike,” she said. “The Purple Hotline is meant to ensure that no one is left alone when systems become impossible to navigate.”

As the war continues, organizers said the goal is not only to respond to immediate needs but to build lasting systems of support that extend beyond times of crisis.

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Originally appeared in chabad.org on march 18, 2026

Sheina Vaspi came to the Milano Cortina Games as a one-woman Israeli delegation, but never felt alone

She was one athlete, representing one country, in five events. Two of them fell on Shabbat.

Sheina Vaspi, Israel’s sole representative to the Milano Cortina 2026 Paralympic Winter Games, did not ski in the women’s downhill on the Games’ opening weekend, nor in the slalom on the final Shabbat of the competition. For the 24-year-old native of Yesud HaMa’ala in Israel’s Galilee region, not skiing on Shabbat—even in such a prestigious event as the Paralympics—is not really a “decision.”

“More than Israel has kept the Shabbat, the Shabbat has kept Israel,” Vaspi told Chabad.org from her room at the Paralympic Village ahead of her second Shabbat there last week. “In a sport like skiing, you need that protection from Hashem.”

The slalom, Vaspi’s favorite event, was scheduled to begin on Shabbat. In the days before, Vaspi said she had been quietly hoping for a heavy snowstorm on Friday night—one severe enough to push the race to another day. The storm never came. Instead, she spent the morning in her room at the Paralympic Village celebrating Shabbat.

In the three events she did compete in, Vaspi missed a gate in the super-G (super giant slalom) and was disqualified, and finished 12th out of 15 in the super combined standing, a condensed competition format held in one day, combining one short run of a speed event—either downhill or Super-G—with one run of technical slalom.

Each result was absorbed with the same matter-of-fact composure she brings to the far larger obstacles she has faced.

Megillah in Paralympic Village

Vaspi lost her leg in a car accident when she was 3 years old. She picked up skiing at 16, a relatively late start even for non-disabled athletes and an especially unlikely one for a girl from a country with a single ski area. Her first time on snow was at Israel’s Mount Hermon, encouraged by her relative Amit Mizrahi, an Israeli alpine skier and volunteer for what is now the Shevet Foundation.

She has since put in the work to close that gap, spending four seasons training in Winter Park, Colo., and several months in Chile. The Milano Cortina Games marked her second Paralympics appearance; her first was in Beijing in 2022.

“For me, it is special to be here,” she said. “Others at this level came from countries with a lot of winter sports and have a lot of experience.”

Wherever Vaspi has trained or competed, Chabad-Lubavitch has been part of her support network. In Colorado, she spent four seasons going to Rabbi David and Nechama Araiev of the Ohr Avner Community Center in Aurora every Shabbat. “They were my second home there,” she said. In Chile, Chabad was similarly supportive during a three-month stretch.

“Everywhere I go, Chabad has been totally amazing,” she said. “They help me with organizing kosher food, Shabbat, and to just sit and talk in Hebrew. There is something familiar wherever I go.”

Rabbi Eli Edelkopf drove five hours to read the Megillah in the Paralympic Village for himself, his wife, Vaspi, and her physiotherapist.

The most recent example came on Purim. Vaspi mentioned to her contact at Chabad of Milan that she was hoping to hear the Megillah read in the Paralympic Village, a five-hour drive from Milan.

The contact reached out to Rabbi Eli Edelkopf, director of the European Jewish Development Fund. He agreed without hesitation, driving five hours each way to make it happen. Edelkopf read Megillah in the Paralymic Village for himself, his wife, Sheina and her physiotherapist, a Israel-born Jewish woman from Colorado.

On the way, at Vaspi’s request, Edelkopf stopped to pick up a kosher microwave and a volume of the letters and correspondence of the Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, known as Igrot Kodesh. He also brought homemade hamantaschen and mishloach manot.

Vaspi was speechless. She couldn’t believe the Edelkops made the trip especially for her, and her Israeli physiotherapist who joined them.

The microwave, said Vaspi, was a lifesaver. While she had access to plenty of kosher food, she had no way to heat it.

Vaspi was excited to have her parents watch her compete, but the war with Iran made that impossible.

“I keep it all in perspective,” she said. Nevertheless, she was happy that her sister made it, after a journey that took 36 hours instead of the usual three.

Looking back on her unlikely journey, Vaspi has one takeaway message: There’s no reason to compromise on your Judaism. “Go after your dreams and believe in yourself,” she said. “You can do anything.”

Sheina Vaspi

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Originally appeared in jns.org on March 11, 2026

As classes, internships and jobs halt during the war, thousands of young adults on Masa Israel Journey programs are volunteering across Israel while also taking respites in safer areas such as Eilat and the Dead Sea.

For Josh Nevins and Simone Basharel, both of whom are in Israel on Masa gap-year programs, classes, internships and jobs largely ground to a halt when “Operation Roaring Lion” began on Feb. 28.

To fill their time meaningfully and maximize safety, nearly 5,000 Masa participants have been spending more time volunteering—and enjoying brief respites at hotels in places such as the Dead Sea and Eilat—courtesy of Masa Israel Journey.

Nevins, 23, of Greenwich, Conn., tells JNS the past 10 months working as a Masa Israel Teaching Fellow—teaching English to Sephardic teenage boys in Bat Yam—have been both invigorating and challenging. He estimates that he is one of about 140 fellows teaching English in Bat Yam and Rishon LeZion.

When the war began, in-person classes—and his teaching position—essentially stopped pending further guidance from the Home Front Command. Nevins joined his head teacher for a Zoom meeting with students last week.

“I wanted to be there for my students. A lot of them were scared and I wanted to say a few words to them. I told them that they should all be very proud of their country and of President Trump and that this war was to ensure the future and the safety of the world.”

He added, “I feel blessed to be here.”

While such meetings were useful for offering encouragement, Nevins observed that Zoom has not been very effective as a teaching tool and that regular online lessons have not taken place.

Nevins, a self-described historian with an expertise in the Mediterranean, Middle East and North Africa and a deep interest in Israel, had been considering spending a year in the country for some time.

“I was eager to go to Israel when I was in college—even before Oct. 7.”

He connected with Masa and opted for a 10-month program after graduating from the University of California, Santa Cruz, one year ago.

In addition to teaching English to students ages 14 to 18, Nevins—who lives in Bat Yam—has also been volunteering “mostly on kibbutzim and moshavim in the area of Gaza,” helping with agricultural work on a watermelon farm, assisting with building projects and volunteering in Sderot.

“We came from that bubble where we look down at our iPhone. Here, we can give back to Israel,” he said. “I am doing what I can to help.”

Nevins, who also “makes videos in front of historical places and disproves lies” on YouTube and Instagram and is known on social media as “Bat Yam Boy,” spoke with JNS from his hotel in Ein Bokek at the Dead Sea, where he and hundreds of other Masa participants were spending a week recharging.

“Our boss, David, randomly said, ‘We are taking you to the Dead Sea to recharge and to escape during the war.’”

Nevins said he expected to return to Bat Yam when the respite ends later this week.

“We will see what happens. I am optimistic,” he said, adding that he is considering returning to Israel once his program ends. “I want to come back ASAP! My hope is to stay!”

Masa fellows donating blood in Jerusalem, March 5, 2026. Credit: Masa.

Donating blood and volunteering

Simone Basharel, 19, of Los Angeles, has been working as an intern at a photo and social media company since arriving in Israel in January to participate in the Aardvark Israel–Classic gap-year program.

When the war began, she and fellow participants were relocated to Eilat. Unlike many others, Basharel has been able to continue her internship remotely.

She normally photographs events and “makes reels of pub crawls” and compiles promotional videos of Tel Aviv, but she has shifted to working from her hotel room in Eilat, continuing to write and edit content.

Basharel said she has been busy with her internship and has not had time to volunteer, though many friends have. They have been donating blood, volunteering at Hadassah Medical Center in Jerusalem and assembling care packages for those in need.

Basharel said she appreciated that Masa relocated participants “out of Tel Aviv, which has been a target,” to Eilat.

At the hotel, participants can choose from a range of activities, including drama workshops, sessions with a rabbi on Talmudic teachings, and discussions on creativity and innovation.

She is also pleased that her sister, who is participating in another Masa program, is staying at a nearby hotel in Eilat.

So far, about 1,500 Masa participants have taken part in similar respite trips, with another 3,000 signing up. The goal is to give fellows a chance to reset in calm, security-approved areas of the country. Masa is funding transportation as well as full-board hotel accommodations.

“At Masa, the safety and security of our fellows has always been our highest priority, and that commitment becomes even more critical in times like these,” said Meir Holtz, CEO of Masa Israel Journey.

“Over more than two decades, we have gained extensive experience operating in complex and emergency situations, and we are prepared to respond responsibly to any scenario,” he said. “At the same time, we know how to transition into what we call a ‘wartime routine’—ensuring that our fellows remain safe while continuing to experience meaningful programming, volunteering opportunities, and educational engagement during their time in Israel.”

He added, “I am incredibly proud of our fellows for the resilience and positive spirit they continue to show, and for the deep commitment to Israel they demonstrate even during challenging moments.”

Masa fellows volunteer in Jerusalem to prepare packages for families in need, March 8, 2026. Credit: Masa.

Since its founding in 2004 by the Jewish Agency for Israel and the Government of Israel, Masa has offered immersive, long-term educational experiences in Israel for young adults. More than 200,000 participants from 60 countries have taken part in programs lasting from one to 10 months, including teaching fellowships, volunteer opportunities and career internships.

The Masa Israel Teaching Fellows program, established in partnership with Israel’s Education Ministry, was created in response to the country’s shortage of English teachers.

Each year, fellows—native English speakers who have graduated from university—arrive from the United States, the United Kingdom, Australia, South Africa and Canada to teach spoken English in schools in Bat Yam, Rishon LeZion, Tel Aviv, Beit She’an and elsewhere.

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Originally appeared in jns.org on March 16, 2026

Across Israel, doctors push aside personal loss and damaged homes to care for their patients during the war with Iran.

 Fulfilling “The Oath of the Hebrew Physician”—the 10-part medical covenant that serves as Israel’s equivalent of the Hippocratic Oath—is not always easy during wartime, especially when a physician’s own home has recently been destroyed or badly damaged by Iranian missiles.

The oath’s first clause states: “You will fulfill your duty day and night to stand by the sick in their distress at any time and at any hour.”

Across Israel—from Eilat to Beersheva and Tel Aviv—physicians continue caring for patients even as they deal with personal losses, damaged homes and temporary relocations.

Dr. Amir Shahar, 76, a senior physician in the Emergency Medicine Department at Clalit’s Yoseftal Medical Center in Eilat and a self-described pioneer of emergency medicine in Israel, was driving from the hospital in Eilat to his home in Tel Aviv on March 15 when his son called to say their home had been badly damaged by a missile launched from Iran.

Fortunately, his son and granddaughters—who live on the first floor of the five-story building—reached the building’s shelter when the alarm sounded and were unharmed.

Shahar’s apartment, located on the second floor of the building built by his grandfather more than 100 years ago, sustained extensive damage.

“Twelve to 14 small bombs from a cluster bomb rocked the house,” Shahar told JNS. “All that is left is a skeleton of the house—no walls, no furniture.”

Shahar said he was currently staying in an apartment in Ramat Gan while continuing his work at Yoseftal Medical Center in Eilat.

He noted that three people in Eilat were recently injured by shrapnel from a missile. Despite the destruction, Shahar maintains both his sense of humor and perspective.

“Unfortunately, I have faced the angel of death many times—with patients and myself—in the army, recovering from leukemia, etc. So, we are acquaintances,” he said.

As he prepared to return to Eilat, Shahar reflected on the support he had received. “You can’t be in Israel without being optimistic. We have a very warm and sensitive society,” he said.

He described how many of his son’s army friends, who served with him more than 30 years ago, came to the apartment to help repair the damage over two days.

“You don’t have this anywhere else in the world,” he said.

Balancing patients and family in Beersheva

In Beersheva, Dr. Roi Levinzon, 38, a family physician at Clinic T in Clalit’s Southern District who also has extensive emergency experience through his 25 years with Magen David Adom (MDA), found himself balancing patient care with concern for his family.

On March 2, Levinzon was seeing patients when a missile alert sounded. He joined colleagues and elderly patients—many “with fear in their eyes”—in the shelter.

“We heard a huge blast and knew it hit the neighborhood,” Levinzon told JNS. “There was dust coming into the shelter from the ventilation system. We knew it wasn’t going to be a good outcome.”

“There was a huge panic in the shelter. People were shouting and crying.”

Although Israel’s Home Front Command recommends waiting for the official “all clear,” Levinzon knew he needed to respond.

“I waited five minutes. In my mind, I knew I couldn’t stay. In my mind, you always think of worst-case scenarios,” he said.

Outside, he saw extensive damage to cars and six nearby buildings. At the same time, he worried about his wife, who was home alone in their 15th-floor apartment a five-minute walk from the strike site.

He continued treating those with “face bleeding, anxiety and pretty mild casualties” before heading home to check on his wife, a social worker in the hematology department at Clalit’s Soroka Medical Center.

“I saw her panicked. She was afraid to leave the shelter. She was afraid that there was nothing left,” he said.

Ten minutes later, Levinzon received a call from Dr. Tsafnat Test, deputy medical director at Clalit’s Southern District.

“Maybe you can go back down to Ground Zero,” she asked.

Levinzon returned to help establish stations where evacuees could speak with social workers, receive emergency prescriptions and obtain assistance from municipal services.

He left his wife, who, he noted, is “used to dealing with anxiety” in her professional work. “She tried to relax. She is a yoga teacher and did deep breathing. After an hour, she calmed down,” he said.

Their home suffered damage to the entrance and shattered windows.

“Thank God it is not huge damage. We can still live there—we are waiting for repairs.”

Levinzon said many residents forced to evacuate their homes faced immediate medical challenges.

“In one second, they have nothing available,” he said. “Some of them have chronic medical issues, so we contacted their pharmacies so they could get their medications renewed.”

Many evacuees were relocated to the Leonardo Hotel, where Levinzon and other aid workers continued assisting them.

Back at his clinic, Levinzon is also helping develop new responses to potential mass-casualty events. Through the Team Shachar rapid-response initiative—a joint emergency medical team created by Clalit’s Southern District together with Magen David Adom—he is helping train physicians and clinics to treat trauma victims if hospitals such as Soroka become overwhelmed.

Sirens in Tel Aviv

Dr. Michal Gur Dick, 44, director of the Plotkin Clinic in Clalit’s Tel Aviv–Jaffa District, worried about the safety of her three children—ages 13, 9 and 5—when she heard the first sirens on Saturday morning, Feb. 28.

She quickly packed clothes, computers and medicine and drove them from their apartment in central Tel Aviv to her parents’ home on Moshav Orat. “I feel lucky and privileged that my children are safe,” she said.

She soon learned that a missile had struck near her home, but that did not deter her. The family medicine specialist returned to work the next day to continue caring for patients.

“I needed to both tell the children their house got damaged and open our clinic in a new place,” she told JNS. “It was very important for me to continue the routine of the clinic—both for my patients and for me.”

Her clinic did not have a bomb shelter. Dick and her team relocated temporarily to the nearby Yad Eliyahu Clinic.

She soon learned that a missile had struck near her home, but that did not deter her. The family medicine specialist returned to work the next day to continue caring for patients.

“I needed to both tell the children their house got damaged and open our clinic in a new place,” she told JNS. “It was very important for me to continue the routine of the clinic—both for my patients and for me.”

Her clinic did not have a bomb shelter. Dick and her team relocated temporarily to the nearby Yad Eliyahu Clinic.

She says the experience deepened her understanding of the role physicians play during crises.

“My broken windows and walls will be fixed,” she said. “It is a privilege to be with people in their broken moments—it gives me strength. That is when we are most needed.”

Each morning, Dick now makes the 40-minute drive from her parents’ moshav to the relocated clinic in Tel Aviv.

She says the experience reinforced something essential.

“When my home was damaged, I realized that routine is not just a work tool—it is part of the healing for all of us,” she said.

“My work gives me a deep sense of purpose and stability. When my home was damaged, I understood that even more clearly. Our patients are looking for an anchor in the storm. When they walk into the clinic and see that the team is there, that care continues and that one thing has not changed, it restores their sense of security. My private home may need rebuilding, but I will not give up on the professional home of my patients.”

Dick hopes the repairs will be completed soon. “The kids really miss their friends—and their routine,” she said.

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