Searching For My Son

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To my only son whom I have never met:

Mid-November 2008, you will be 48 yrs. old and I almost 75. I was informed of your birth mid-November 1970, minus any clue which could have permitted my search for you. Mid-November 1980, I found a few details with which my search began with the help of many volunteers. These volunteers, most of whom I did not know prior to their help, frequently acted in spite of considerable danger to themselves, by illegally entering Israeli government files of your mother in the IDF, Israel’s Social Security, the Interior Ministry, etc. Their readiness to help came by their conviction as an action of true Mitzvah.

Your mother was an 18 year old soldier, who was hiding her pregnancy from me, bent on giving you up for adoption, an intention which vanished at your birth by her bursting joy in declaring - “there will be no adoption!”. You were taken from your mother by the medical staff for your first bath and registered to others, never to be returned.

Your mother was told that you died, a lie which instantly brought about her mental breakdown, a condition from which she recovered months on by erasing your very existence from her mind. In that mental blackout condition, she remained until this very day, essentially, they wrecked her life.

Israel’s law does not recognize my rights as your father, neither as father of adoptive son, nor of a stolen one. Even clear evidence from Israel’s adoption section of the Welfare Ministry, authorizing your never having an adoption file, evidence which I had...... did not help me in my search over the years.

In my countless approaches to legal authorities of press & media organizations for help, repeatedly I faced the barrier of fear imposed by the hand of the law which prevents help to fathers like me, in spite of a number of widely reported episodes of proven baby thefts in Israel over many years.

What I write here may be difficult for you to believe, as most likely you were told otherwise.

Early 1954, the day I finished officer school as the outstanding cadet, I joined as a volunteer with Captain Ariel Sharon in the #890 Commando Paratroopers Regiment, uniquely assigned to fight terrorism. Toward the end of my service, Col. Sharon pressured me to sign up for professional military service with him. That pressure negated my destined life as an artist, one which I recognized since my childhood, one which I began to follow in 1955, one which I shall continue until the end of my days. As Prime Minister of Israel, Sharon ignored my request for his help in my search for you.

You could learn a great deal about me by visiting my website: gyoranovak.com , from my childhood in a pioneer’s shack in my birth village of Nahalal, and up to date in my home of domes, which I built atop a mountain which I called Orr-Maakom (western North Carolina, USA).

Missing you in my life, all that I lost through those 48 years, is beyond any capacity of description or perception, while the hope of 38 years, my knowing of your existence– the hope of our meeting– all my life shall continue
.
The copy of this letter will join hundreds of pages which recorded details of my efforts to find you, documenting which began the day that I learned of your existence, an accumulation which I hope to share it’s contents with you soon..... to that day...... AMEN SELAH!


To reach me:

Gyora Novak
PO BOX 841
Franklin, NC 28744, USA
email: orrmaakom@cox.net
tel: 828 369-8827

 

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