Lee Sasi attended the Nova music festival in the Re’im forest of Southern Israel where Hamas militants murdered 380 people on Oct. 7, 2023. In coordinated attacks, heavily armed fighters killed more than 1,200 Israeli civilians and soldiers and took 251 hostages across the region that day, marking the worst disaster in Israel’s history and the deadliest concert attack ever.
In response, Israel mounted a crushing counteroffensive, killing more than 41,000 Palestinians over the last year in brutal air and ground attacks that have left Gaza in ruins.
In her own words, Sasi recounts her personal story to mark the one-year anniversary of the devastating day and share her hope for peace. The 26-year-old lost her paternal uncle Avi Sasi, 64, her pregnant cousin Nitzan Rahum, 28, Nitzan’s fiancé Lidor Levi, 28, and a close family friend who traveled to the festival with her group. Here is her story:
This year was the hardest year ever. One year ago, I was at the Nova festival with my family. We were a group of seven traveling together. Only three of us returned home.
I was visiting from Los Angeles. My cousin, Omri Sasi, was a producer of the festival. He helped put it together and was supposed to perform the morning of the attack. I was very excited and looking forward to my first trance party with my family. We arrived at like 2:30 a.m. and we danced until sunrise. The energy on the dance floor was something else. Everyone was so full of light. It felt like everybody knew each other, like one big family.
When the rockets started firing, we ran to the car. My uncle Avi said we needed to find a bomb shelter, and I remembered one by a bus stop. We pulled over and got inside. It was a concrete block, maybe five feet by eight feet wide. It was completely packed when the terrorists attacked us. They started shooting into the hallway, killing my friend Alex. Then they entered the shelter and started shooting, killing more. They threw in a hand grenade, and my uncle Avi jumped to protect me. It flew into his stomach and exploded. He was protecting me until the moment he was murdered right in front of my face. He’s my dad’s brother. He has three kids. Everyone who knew him would say good things about him.
It was maybe 8 o’clock in the morning when my uncle was killed. We were there until 2 p.m. in complete shock. Of the 40 of us who entered the shelter, only 11 of us survived. We survived by hiding under dead bodies to protect ourselves from the explosive devices thrown in. It was like a video game, literally, trying to avoid the explosions. I was in complete survival mode. I was trying to get help, trying to make videos. I don’t know how I had the power or strength, but I’m grateful I had the power. If I didn’t have the videos, I don’t think people would have understood.
I thought the most difficult day would be Oct. 7, but it continued. I feel like Oct. 7 is every day now. It’s part of my life. It’s part of me, every day. I’m used to it.
I returned to Los Angeles. I’m alone there in terms of not being with other survivors. I was in L.A., alone. I kind of healed on my own without having any community of the Nova survivors. I wanted to return to Israel to visit for the memorials and feel that connection with the community. I arrived three weeks ago and did a lot of therapy treatments. The people that created the Nova festival created a community for the survivors, providing trauma therapy and group therapy to more than 3,000 of us.
The two other survivors in my group of seven were my two cousins. The three of us went back to Re’im to the bomb shelter where I survived. We decided to go back to get some closure and try to move on from this year. It was my first time going back. It was really hard for me, but I didn’t cry. I felt very numb. When we went home that day, I felt very upset with myself that I didn’t cry. Like, what’s going on with me?
A couple days later, I was at a trauma therapy facility, and they had a psychodrama class and I told them my story, and they reenacted it. When they did that, I could not stop crying. It was like an incredible release. I had been holding on for so long, and it felt so healing. I had been holding in my tears for so long. It was so nice to cry and let it go. I had been so numb and frozen inside. It’s important to move through the trauma, rather than keeping it in.
I want to say that music has been a big part of my healing. I don’t know what I would have done over the last year if not for music. I was in major investigation mode looking for songs I could relate to. I found a song that felt like every word was written for me in that moment. It’s “Superhuman” by Colleen D’Agostino and BlackGummy. It’s an EDM song that’s actually upbeat. It’s talking about survival and [having] adrenaline while you’re fighting for your life. It’s pretty cool. When I heard the song, I reached out to the artist and told the artist about my story and how much the song meant to me.
I want peace. I don’t want there to be hatred in the world. Hatred doesn’t get you anywhere in life. It just gives you PTSD and trauma. I truly believe both ends of this spectrum have something in common – a lot of PTSD, and a lot of trauma. If we can just learn to accept one another and be in peace, the world would be a better place.
I do wish for peace. I do wish for happier days on both ends.
Back in June, I went to my first music event in Barstow, Calif., and danced for the first time since Oct. 7. It was a very small event. I was with my cousins, and it was so nice to dance again, be together and enjoy the night.
It’s still not easy. There are days I feel weak. But it’s okay. I always remind myself that tomorrow is a new day. This too shall pass. It’s all about perspective, and my perspective is so much different. That’s what’s been keeping me strong. When I feel like I can be a help and help others, this is what I need to do to succeed. When I get back to Los Angeles, I hope to find a good job where I can grow as a person. And every time I meet a new survivor, I feel stronger. I feel like there’s an invisible string connecting us. We all understand each other. It’s nice to feel that.
