Man's Desolation following the Extinguishing of a 'Beacon of Hope'
Secrets Stolen on a Serene Stroll
In the tranquil suburbs of Kansas City, a routine walk together turned into a life-altering moment for Bob Milgrim and his wife, Nancy. On a balmy May day, as they strolled down their neighborhood streets, the talk turned to the future, and the dreams they held for their children.
"I said, 'Nancy, you know, our lives are perfect. We have two beautiful children, we couldn't ask for more'," shared Bob, his voice heavy with emotion.
Their only lingering sadness was the thought that their daughter Sarah, now 26, might not get the chance to settle down close to their home in Prairie Village, Kansas. The sweet scenario of grandkids, endless laughter, and sharing life's milestones was a treasured one, snatched away in the most cruel of ways less than a week later.
With chilling precision, Sarah and her boyfriend, Yaron Lischinsky, were gunned down on the streets of Washington, D.C., the jarring report of a crime creating a gaping hole in the serenity of the Milgrim family's life. The mastermind behind the tragedy identified himself to the arriving police officers as, "I did it for Gaza."
Ripped from a Place of Love
The Milgrims were thrown from the peaceful thoughts of dreaming about their daughter's future, to the harsh reality of planning a funeral. They went from romantically envisioning grandchildren, to the heartbreaking reality of burying their own child.
What followed was a painstaking journey of remembering every cherished moment they spent with Sarah. Bob recalled her as someone who excelled in all areas of life. From her achievements in sports and music, to her beekeeping and her passion to rescue injured birds of prey, there was an endless list of accomplishments he felt pride in recounting.
One of his fondest memories, however, was of Sarah's love for dogs. There were mornings when Bob would find his daughter, curled up with the family pet, happy as can be. But, it wasn't just the family dog that held a special place in Sarah's heart. She had a knack for befriending strays, and would often bring them home, forever changing the dynamics of their family unit.
"She loved all forms of life," shared Bob, his voice quavering with emotion.
"Sarah was a light in the world from the very beginning."
The Fateful Night
As Bob settled in for the night that fateful Wednesday, his phone suddenly lit up with alerts of a shooting in Washington, D.C., his heart nonchalantly dismissing the warnings. Yet, as more details emerged, reality began to hit home. For Sarah had been in the area where the attack took place, attending an event after work, something she often did.
The location was the Capital Jewish Museum, a place that, unbeknownst to Bob, Sarah had visited many times. The attack was immediately suspected as being politically motivated, and as more information unfolded, the gravity of the situation became clear; it was Sarah and Yaron who had been taken from this world so cruelly.
Bob tried repeatedly to contact Sarah, but to no avail. In desperation, he reached out to the authorities for information, only to be told that everyone was responding to the shooting. Eventually, someone asked for Sarah's passport information, and Bob knew something was terribly wrong.
He Rummaged through the depths of his bedroom, his heart racing as he searched for the document he'd carefully tucked away. It was then that he inadvertently awoke his wife, Nancy. Together, as his heart shattered, they received a shocking call from a Washington number. It was the Israeli ambassador to the US, Yechiel Leiter, informing them that their daughter was dead.
However, in the midst of their sorrow, the ambassador had one more bit of information to share; Yaron had purchased an engagement ring a week before.
"We knew they were very, very serious. We knew they were in love; their bond was unbelievable," Bob told the press, his voice tinged with the bittersweet weight of love that was cut short.
They had been planning to travel to Israel together the following week, so Sarah could meet Yaron's family. And, it was during that trip that Yaron had intended to propose.
A Love Born in Israel
Sarah's connection to Israel started early, well before her bat mitzvah. After her older brother Jacob had his bar mitzvah, Sarah shared her wish for her own ceremony to be held in Israel. Herbat mitzvah two years later was not only the first time Bob had visited Israel, but also the moment he noticed a change in Sarah.
"From that point forward, for whatever reason, she felt more comfortable in Israel than anyplace else," he shared, his voice heavy with wonder.
Sarah spent her summers and a college semester in Israel, and also volunteered with Tech2Peace, an organization that bridged the gap between Israelis and Palestinians. Her work focused on bringing people together and fostering mutual understanding through technology and the sharing of cultures.
Despite facing antisemitism at her high school, where swastikas were spray-painted on buildings, and hateful jokes were hurled her way, Sarah remained hopeful. After joining the Israeli embassy in Washington, D.C., Bob and Nancy felt it was safe for her to travel to Israel with Yaron.
Sarah's parents had tried to acclimate Yaron to the charm of their hometown, hoping he would be persuaded to stay in the U.S. However, they knew that Sarah and Yaron would likely move to Israel, a reality they had reluctantly accepted.
"She loved Judaism and loved Israel," Bob shared, his voice breaking as he fought back tears. "I want people to remember her and remember what she did and remember that she didn't hate anybody, not even Palestinians or Muslims. She loved them all."
"The people that hated her never stopped to ask her how she felt, or what was her viewpoint on how things in the Middle East should be settled. They just assumed that she was bad," he added with a heavy sigh.
A month before their own family tragedy, Bob and Nancy had been on one of the first flights into Reagan National Airport in Washington, D.C., after it reopened following a military helicopter and passenger plane crash nearby that killed 67.
"I realized (dozens) of people had lost their lives, and I became emotional. And little did I know that a few months later I'd be going through the same thing," he shared.
Earlier this month, Bob and Nancy traveled to Washington, D.C., to clean out Sarah's apartment, a task that brought both joyful memories and unbearable sadness. The house had been their daughter's sanctuary, filled with the echoes of laughter, dreams, and a future that was suddenly, shockingly, gone.
"We were the first people to go into her apartment since the murder," he said. "It was like a freeze frame in time - the cup of coffee, half drunk, was on the counter. There was a little bit of coffee left in the coffee pot ... it was one of the hardest, one of the most difficult days of my life, or Nancy's life."
Furthermore, the Milgrims had hoped to meet Yaron's siblings in Washington at a Kennedy Center performance by the US-Israel Opera Initiative that was dedicated to the slain couple. But the outside world intruded again when airports were closed in the Iran-Israel conflict, and the Lischinsky family could not travel.
A Legacy of Love and Respect for All Life
One of Bob Milgrim's most treasured memories is from a time in Sarah's childhood when she looked up to him as a teacher. They were walking outside one morning when Sarah wondered aloud why the sidewalk was dry but the grass was wet, even though it hadn't been raining.
"I had to explain dew to her, and she goes, 'Dad, you know everything!'" he remembered with a warm chuckle.
After she was killed, Bob marveled at how much Sarah had taught him, too.
"I've learned how to be good and how to respect other people and how important it is for there to be love in the world and to see good in the world. And that's what Sarah saw," he shared. "And since her tragic death, I've seen much more of it. I've seen much more good, and bad. Of course, the bad was horrific, and it could not have been any worse. But the outpouring of love, both from the Jewish community and all communities around the world is what's keeping us going right now. And it's been unbelievable."
Sarah has been laid to rest in Kansas City. Bob and Nancy have taken down the pictures from the walls of Sarah's apartment and removed the magnets from her refrigerator. They've kept some of her belongings and donated the rest. Now, Bob echoes the traditional Jewish message to the bereaved: zichronam l'vracha, or "May their memory be a blessing."
"Her memory is a blessing," he shares. "And we need to have the courage to make it so, so the world would be a better place."
Sarah's beloved goldendoodle Andy is now with her parents in Kansas. The dog was the first thing Bob thought of when a victim's assistance officer asked if he needed help with anything.
"We told them the dog was locked up somewhere," Bob shares. "The agent said, 'We'll take care of getting Andy back to Kansas City somehow.'" The dog was found at Yaron's apartment in Washington and flown to Kansas by that evening.
But for the Milgrims, the void Sarah left is deep and indelible.
"The void of her personality and the aura of her being around us cannot be replaced. There's nothing that could fill that hole," Bob reflects. "The three of us, Nancy and Jacob and I, will do our best."
This story was reported by CNN's Wolf Blitzer and Meridith Edwards in Washington, D.C., and written by CNN's Rachel Clarke in Atlanta.
This horrific event took place amid a broader context of rising antisemitic violence and politically motivated attacks in the United States, particularly those connected to extremist views on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Sarah's death was a senseless loss, a causality of political radicalization and extremist ideologies. Both Sarah and Yaron were devoted to peace, humanitarian work, and finding common ground, and their lives were cut short by hatred and bigotry sponsored by anti-Semitic extremists.
The Milgrims, plunged from discussing their daughter's future to planning her funeral, found themselves entangled in the harsh realities of crime-and-justice. The US politics and general-news landscape was rife with rising antisemitic violence, a broader context in which their daughter's life was tragically taken.
In the days following the tragedy, the Milgrims contemplated how their peaceful suburban life in Kansas had been shattered by a politically motivated attack thousands of miles away. Despite the pain, they found themselves seeking solace in remembering the love Sarah had for all forms of life, a testament to the US values of unity and diversity that Sarah embodied.
