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Today is day 664, which are 93 weeks and five days of the captivity of now 50 hostages, living and dead in Gaza.
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This is TLV1. This episode may contain explicit language.
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Foreign.
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Welcome to the Promise podcast brought to you on TLV1, the voice of the city that is home to the Jerusalem beach, A beach dedicated to our unfortunately landlocked sisters and brothers who live in the holy city and nation's capital. Which Jerusalem beach is the site of a lovely, well appointed lifeguard stand on stilts. Which lovely, well appointed lifeguard stand on stilts is now the new workplace of 24 year old Tamar Milisov, who just days ago became the first woman lifeguard in the city's 102 year history of having lifeguards to protect and serve the people of the city as well as the many, many visitors to the city. A tradition of lifeguardery that started with the legendary Avraham Lieberson, who first set up the operation in 1923 and oversaw it for 30 odd years teaching in the off season at Gymnasia Herzaliyah, where in the event my chavura meets on Shabb and holidays. Though it was in a different building way back then. And it was Abraham Lieberson who hired Shlomo Al Kasoff. He was the third lifeguard in the city's history, a man named David Ehrlich was the second. And Shlomo Al Kasov was the first deaf lifeguard in the city's history and thus he was the first first in the history of Tel Aviv lifeguardery. He could not hear people cry out, but he famously could feel or sense when a swimmer was in distress and needed his help. Shlomo Al Kasof was beloved. He was a carpenter in the off season and he invented a sort of float or board that looks rather like a flat kayak with no holes for a passenger. It is sanded and sealed all around and hollow inside. Light and buoyant, it looks like if you stuck a straw in the side of a surfboard and blew hard until it inflated. The thing is called a hasaka and it is still in use on the beaches to this day. Shlomo Al Kasof was struck by tragedy when his wife Tziporah, who was also deaf, and their three year old girl Yael were killed on September 9, 1940 when Italian warplanes bombed Tel Aviv. Though even after that he continued his life's work of keeping swimmers safe on the beach. And lifeguards are the stuff of Heroic stories of daring do in Tel Aviv. And they were also for some years, though no longer, the most highly paid public employees in the city, earning for a time more than the mayor, an anomalous result of a remarkably advantageous contract that they signed with the city early on that allowed seniority pay to continued to accrue without limitation. Who knew that the lifeguard hired in the 1920s would still be guarding lives in the 1960s and even 1970s? And though new lifeguards no longer make more than the mayor, it remains a profession of great, even Hasselhoffian mystique, which until a couple of weeks ago was always a male mystique. Until Tamar Milisov broke the glass shoreline, aced her exams, amazed everyone with her performance in a demanding training program, and earned her place in the Jerusalem beach lifeguard stand. Tamar Malisov said this week, quote I always loved the sea, but as a child I didn't think it could become my profession. When you go to the beach in Israel, you only see male lifeguards. But one day I realized that this is what I wanted to do. I just woke up one fine day and said to myself, this is my calling. When there is a female lifeguard on duty on the tower, women on the beach feel safer. There are cases of harassment. We see it from the tower and we intervene and help. This is not a classic lifeguard guard duty, but it is definitely part of our job, end quote. For all that, Tamar Malisov says that people are always still surprised to see her up in the lifeguard stand, quote the first time I made an announcement over the loudspeaker from the tower, the whole beach stood still and watched, end quote. That said, Tamar Milisoff said, among those standing still and watching were young girls who understood at once that this can be their future too, if they want it. And arguably nothing captures the we'll get to the right place, if not at first, then eventually spirit of this city we love so well. Tel Aviv Jaffo Better than looking up, your eyes shielded from the sun by the salute of your hand over your brow as you look at the lifeguard tower. And in the spot where for 100 years you and everyone who came before you has seen only men, men, men, some legendary you see there a woman whose pages in the storied history of the city's life Gartery is only this summer starting to be written. With us in the great underground vault that is the Serenity studio at Lesser Ory street is a woman whose lovely prose, like the Very best lifeguards around the world and throughout history, embodies certain unmistakable lifeguardish virtues, what the Germans call retug, schwimmer haftigscheid te genden. That's one word, obviously virtues or tegenden that include courage, vigilance, calm under pressure, life and death, responsibility, teamwork, communication, judgment, and quick wits. Obviously, that woman could only be Alison Kaplan Sommer. Alison has written for Politico, the New Republic, Foreign, the Jerusalem Post, the jta, the Forward, and many other of your very best papers and magazines. She's a columnist with Haaretz. You have seen her on i24 television and Al Jazeera TV, and you have heard her on NPR, PRI and the BBC and of course, the Haaretz podcast that she hosts very often. Two times in a single week. People. Alison holds a B' Nai B World Center Award for journalism, recognizing excellence in diaspora reportage, and a Simon Rockau award for excellence in covering Zionism, Aliyah and Israel. Alison, you were gone. And we won't hide it. We miss you. How you doing?
