Gil tried to save his son after he fell into a river — and was killed after plunging into a ravine: Gil Hillel, 44, from Kibbutz Yizre’el, was killed on Saturday during a family trip in Slovenia. According to details shared by his brother Ben on Facebook, the tragedy occurred after Gil’s seven-year-old son fell into the river from the canyon where the family was hiking.
“During a hike along the canyon of one of the rivers, his youngest son slipped and fell into the water, hitting rocks on the way down,” his brother wrote. “Gil, trying to save the boy, apparently lost his grip and fell into the ravine. His son was injured and airlifted to the hospital. He has a broken leg and other injuries, but he will be okay.”
His brother said that Gil, who grew up in Mikhmoret, studied agricultural engineering at the Technion, “and above all, devoted himself to his family and his children. His three children were the most important thing in the world to him, and he invested an enormous amount of his energy in them — so much thought, time and everything that comes with it. And it seems that it certainly paid off, because all three are remarkable, each in their own way. He was always ready to physically jump in and rescue them from any danger. He was agile and strong, without fear.”
“It’s hard for me to believe that I’ll never again hear his calm, measured voice of reason on the other end of the phone; that I won’t be able to hug him again at another family gathering; that I won’t hear him proudly talking about his children, his work or another project at the kibbutz,” he added painfully in his Facebook post. “My world has been turned upside down. I’m deeply saddened, and I will always miss him.”
Gil and Rotem’s last selfie before the tragedy in Slovenia
Rotem, Gil’s wife, shared the last photograph of them together on her Facebook page.
“People are sending me messages of condolence and offering to surround me with love. But I want your hug. The one I relax into, the one that changes my breathing. I’m waiting for you to come out of some hiding place and for this nightmare to end. I’m not ready to talk about you in the past tense. You are my home. What home am I supposed to go back to?”
“I can’t imagine my life without you,” she continued. “For 20 years, you’ve been my anchor when the sea around me was stormy — and now what am I supposed to do? I’m not even allowing myself to mourn you because there’s a seven-year-old boy fighting to recover right now, and soon I’ll have to tell him that the hug from Dad that he wants, too, isn’t coming.
“I wish I could erase this day. But thank you for the keepsake you left me. I love you, and I’m grateful I told you that in the morning, when I woke up in your last warm embrace.”
First published: 20:18, 09.21.26