When Rachel Goldberg and Jon Polin took to the stage at the Democratic National Convention in their hometown of Chicago last month, their son, Hersh Goldberg-Polin, had been held hostage in Gaza for 320 days.
They ended their speech by talking directly to their son, hoping he could somehow hear them: We love you, stay strong, survive.
As they spoke, Hersh was alive. But there was almost no more time left.
On Sunday, the couple announced that their nearly 11-month campaign to save their son had come to a heartbreaking end.
Hersh’s body and those of five other hostages were discovered by the Israeli military in a tunnel in Rafah in southern Gaza. They had been shot at close range multiple times on Thursday or Friday, Israeli authorities said after a forensic examination.
Hersh was one of five American hostages still believed to be alive in Gaza. After the Oct. 7 attacks by Hamas on Israel, his parents emerged as eloquent and relentless advocates for bringing the hostages home, telling the story of their son’s capture as they traveled from Washington to Doha, Qatar, to Geneva.
Hersh, a 23-year-old born in California and raised in Jerusalem, became one of the most high-profile faces of the plight of the hostages in large part because of his parents’ tireless campaigning.
The disclosure that he and the five others found in Rafah had managed to stay alive until only days ago sparked fury in Israel, where family members have accused the government of deadly delays in reaching a deal that would stop the fighting and release the hostages.
Each day that passes without a negotiated solution “increases the risk that no hostages will come home alive,” said Jonathan Dekel-Chen, whose son Sagui is another American held captive in Gaza.
Like the Goldberg-Polins, Dekel-Chen has spent the past 11 months pressing senior U.S. officials in the White House and Congress for help reaching a deal that would bring their family members home.
In the United States, where Hersh’s family had lived and made yearly visits after leaving for Israel, synagogues and Jewish groups sent out anguished messages describing their sorrow upon learning that Hersh and five other hostages had been killed.
On Sunday, President Joe Biden and Secretary of State Antony Blinken called the Goldberg-Polins to offer their condolences. Both men have met and spoken with the family repeatedly since last year. “I am devastated and outraged,” Biden said in a statement. Hersh’s parents have been “courageous, wise, and steadfast, even as they have endured the unimaginable.”
Their ordeal began early in the morning of Oct. 7, when Hamas militants launched an unprecedented attack on Israel that killed 1,200 people. Hersh, a trained medic with a laid-back temperament who loved to travel, had left home the night before carrying a backpack and a sleeping bag.
At the time, he was working odd jobs to save money for his next big trip: a year-long journey through Asia starting in December. On Oct. 6, he and his best friend were off to celebrate Hersh’s birthday at a trance music festival in southern Israel. It turned into a scene of carnage.
The next morning, his mother, Rachel, checked her phone. At 8:11 a.m., Hersh had sent two messages via WhatsApp. “I love you,” the first read. The next one said: “I’m sorry.”
In the blur of days that followed, his family’s home in Jerusalem turned into a situation room, full of friends calling hospitals and trying to understand what happened. They learned from eyewitnesses — and later, a grisly video — that Hersh’s left forearm was blown off when militants attacked a shelter where he and dozens of others sought safety. In the video, he can be seen climbing into a truck that took him to Gaza.
Rachel, a guidance counselor, and Jon, an entrepreneur, devoted themselves to securing their son’s release. In a speech last year at the United Nations, Rachel said the weeks after the attack were like being transported to a different planet — “our planet of no sleep, our planet of despair, our planet of tears.”
She talked about resisting the temptation to demonize people. “Hatred of the other … is seductive, sensuous and most importantly, it’s easy,” she said. But it is “not actually helpful, nor is it constructive.”
The parents appeared on the cover of Time magazine. They met with Qatari Prime Minister Mohammed bin Abdulrahman Al Thani, a crucial intermediary in talks with Hamas. They traveled to Switzerland, speaking to the International Red Cross and business executives at the annual Davos conference. And they returned again and again to Washington, meeting with senior Biden administration officials, who told them they were doing everything they could to bring Hersh home.
Then, in April, after six months of not knowing if their son was alive or dead, Hamas released a video of Hersh. His left arm was a stump. His face looked pale and puffy. But he was alive. His parents told CNN that they sobbed with relief when they heard his voice.
Hersh, a dual U.S.-Israeli citizen, was one of dozens of hostages still thought to be alive in Gaza. More than 250 were taken captive on Oct. 7. In November, 105 were released during a one-week pause in fighting in exchange for Palestinian prisoners held by Israel.
Four other Americans are also among those held hostage by Hamas: Sagui Dekel-Chen, Keith Siegel, Omer Neutra and Edan Alexander. The bodies of three Americans killed on Oct. 7 are still in Gaza.
In recent weeks, the American hostage families, including the Goldberg-Polins, have mounted a frantic effort to salvage a deal, meeting with Biden and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu at the White House in July. The most recent round of talks resumed in late August.
At the DNC in Chicago, the couple weren’t sure what kind of reception they would receive from the delegates, said Liz Hirsh Naftali, whose grandniece Abigail Edan, 4, was taken hostage on Oct. 7 and later freed. Rachel briefly broke down as the crowd began to chant, “Bring them home!”
The Goldberg-Polins called for a deal that would bring the hostages home as well as an end to “the suffering of innocent civilians in Gaza.” More than 40,000 people have been killed in the territory since the war started, according to the Gaza Health Ministry.
“We all feel the urgency,” Naftali said. “The U.S. government feels the urgency. The hostage families do. … We need the Israeli prime minister and we need [Hamas leader Yehiya] Sinwar to feel the urgency.”
The Goldberg-Polins “have fought every day for 11 months,” Naftali said. “Our hearts break for them … . It didn’t have to end this way.”
The grief at Hersh’s death extended from Israel to the United States, touching cities such as Richmond, where the family lived when he was small, and places he and his two sisters used to visit. Hersh “radiated kindness and sweetness and always had a smile on his face,” wrote the leaders of a Jewish retreat in Georgia where he often spent the Passover holiday with his family as a child.
At Congregation Or Torah outside Chicago, where Hersh’s paternal grandmother, Leah Polin, is a member, there was shock and sorrow. “If any hostage was going to be saved, we thought it was going to be Hersh,” Rabbi Zvi Engel said.
Hersh’s grandmother was on her way to Israel for her grandson’s funeral, Engel said. On Monday, Hersh will be buried, and his family will begin the Jewish mourning ritual of sitting shiva. In the funeral notice, his family called him a “child of light, love and peace.”
Ben Brasch, Michael Birnbaum and Abbie Cheeseman in Washington and Lior Soroka in Tel Aviv contributed to this report.
