Rescue Squad Organizer Falls 30 Feet into Sinkhole

It was near dawn on the day before Sukkot, the Feast of Tabernacles, in 2003, when I decided to measure one of the recent sinkholes on the shore of the Dead Sea. Before taking the rescue jeep, however, I had to clear it with Noam, who was in charge that day of the Ein Gedi Rescue Team. I explained that I would be away only an hour—back by 8 a.m.

Shortly after I started measuring the sinkhole, the ground on which I stood suddenly collapsed. I fell into the hole—30 feet deep—along with heaps of rubble. The sudden falling away of the ground beneath me, the rubble that came with me and the complete darkness disoriented me. For a moment I thought I 047would be buried alive. For a split second I thought I had turned blind. Or maybe—in a flash—this is how it is in the underworld.

The first two hours were the most difficult. As I got my bearings, I examined my waist-belt; it was intact, with a camera, compass, pen and paper—and a cell phone. But then I realized: There is no cell phone reception in a sinkhole.