WINNIPEG, Canada – Some organizations enter a family’s life for a moment.
Others become part of its history.
For my family, Magen David Adom is much more than Israel’s national emergency medical service. Its ambulances have appeared at three defining moments in our story, connecting my mother’s courage, my brother’s birth, and my father’s legacy across nearly six decades.
MDA carried my mother into service.
It carried my brother into life.
Today, it carries my father’s name into the future.
The “White Angel” Of 1967
My family’s connection to Magen David Adom began during one of the most consequential moments in Israel’s history.
In June 1967, as Israel faced the combined armies of its neighbors during the Six-Day War, my mother, Beate Hamizrachi, volunteered with Magen David Adom.
She served as an ambulance driver, helping transport the wounded during a war that would determine whether the young Jewish state survived.
The work was relentless. The casualties were real. Every trip carried uncertainty.
My mother kept going.
Her devotion and compassion earned her the nickname “the White Angel.”
The name captured who she was during those extraordinary days. She was a young woman who chose Israel, chose the Jewish people, and chose to place herself in service to others when the country needed every available hand.
At the same time, my father, Yoram Hamizrachi, was serving as an IDF reservist and paratrooper in the battle for Jerusalem.
While he fought to defend and reunify the Jewish capital, my mother helped care for those wounded in the fighting.
Their roles were different, but their mission was the same.
To protect life and defend Israel.
A Birth That Could Not Wait
Seven years later, Magen David Adom became part of our family’s story again.
By 1974, our family was living in Misgav Am, a kibbutz overlooking Israel’s northern border. When my mother went into labor with my younger brother Dan, an MDA ambulance was called to take her to the hospital in Tzfat.
Dan, however, had no intention of waiting.
Before the ambulance could reach the hospital, he was born inside it.
For most families, an ambulance ride represents fear, injury, or crisis. For ours, that journey also became the setting for new life.
The same organization that had carried wounded Israelis during the Six-Day War now carried my mother and welcomed my brother into the world.
An MDA ambulance was not simply present at Dan’s birth.
It became his first delivery room.
Remembering A Life Of Service
My father, Yoram Hamizrachi East, died on Oct. 13, 2010.
He had lived many lives in one.
He was a seventh-generation Jerusalemite, a paratrooper, an IDF colonel, a journalist, an author, an artist, a counterterrorism expert, a lecturer and a community activist.
After our family moved to Winnipeg, he continued working as a journalist and became deeply involved in helping refugees, immigrants, Indigenous communities and people too often ignored by established institutions.
He could be blunt, stubborn and impossible to overlook.
He was also fiercely committed to Israel and to the principle that a meaningful life must be lived in service to something larger than oneself.
Years after his death, the Winnipeg chapter of Canadian Magen David Adom launched a campaign to purchase an ambulance in his memory.
The campaign was led by people who understood both my father’s connection to Israel and his years of service to others. The original plan was to station the vehicle in Kiryat Shemona, near the northern border region where my father spent some of the most important years of his military career.
At a Winnipeg fundraising gala in 2024, more than 200 Jewish, Christian and pro-Israel supporters gathered as the campaign moved closer to its goal. Organizers reported that the campaign had raised the full $140,000 toward the ambulance’s costs.
The effort was about more than purchasing a vehicle.
It was about creating a living memorial.
A plaque can preserve a name.
An ambulance can preserve a life.
A Living Memorial In Israel
The ambulance dedicated to my father has been operational in Beit Shemesh since January 2026.
Every time its crew responds to a heart attack, traffic collision, medical emergency or terrorist attack, my father’s name travels with them.
Every time its doors open, someone is given hope.
Every time its siren sounds, his memory becomes action.
During a recent family visit to Israel, Magen David Adom invited us to see the ambulance and take part in a special ceremony honoring my father’s memory.
Standing beside it was profoundly moving.
This was not a stone monument.
It was equipped, staffed, and ready to respond.
It was alive with purpose.
The ambulance represents the generosity of Winnipeg donors and the dedication of Canadian Magen David Adom for Israel, which has raised funds for Israeli ambulances, medical equipment, supplies, and blood-testing technology since 1976.
More personally, it completes a remarkable circle in our family’s history.
In 1967, my mother climbed into an MDA ambulance to help save lives and became known as the White Angel.
In 1974, my brother Dan drew his first breath inside an MDA ambulance on the road to Tzfat.
In 2026, an MDA ambulance began answering emergency calls while carrying my father’s name.
The Thread Connecting Our Family
Magen David Adom is often described simply as Israel’s ambulance service.
It is much more.
It is one of the threads holding Israeli society together.
Its personnel respond to Jews, Muslims, Christians, and Druze. They treat victims of terrorism, illness, accidents and war. They do not ask a wounded person how they vote, where they worship or what they believe before attempting to save their life.
They simply act.
For nearly 60 years, that mission has repeatedly intersected with my family’s story.
My mother served inside one of its ambulances.
My brother was born inside one.
My father is now memorialized by one.
Our connection to Magen David Adom began during war, continued with a birth, and has endured through remembrance.
That ambulance now traveling Israel’s roads carries medical equipment, trained responders and the name of Yoram Hamizrachi East.
But it also carries something less visible.
It carries our family’s gratitude.
It carries our history.
Most importantly, it carries the possibility that another family will be given more time, another child will be born safely, and another life will be saved.
There could be no more meaningful tribute to my father.
Ron East is the Founder and Publishing Director of TheJ.ca.
The views expressed in this commentary are those of the author.
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