Inside the Ticket Booth: A Survivor Recalls the Horror of October 7

More than two years after the October 7 massacre, survivors are still carrying memories that remain impossible to forget. Among them is Eden Shtibelman, who survived the attack at the Nova music festival in Re’im under circumstances she describes as nothing short of miraculous.

Eden, who grew up in Ashdod surrounded by years of sirens and security tensions, says that at first she did not fully grasp the danger unfolding around her that morning.

Today, looking back, she says that decision changed her life forever.

“At First, We Didn’t Understand What Was Happening”

Eden had arrived at the Nova festival to work in a ticket booth trailer.

“I worked until six in the morning and waited for my partner, Maya, to finish her shift,” she recalls. “We sat together for a few minutes, and suddenly we started hearing loud explosions. We looked at the sky, trying to understand what was happening, and then the music stopped with announcements of a Red Alert siren.”

Because she had experienced so many rounds of rockets and sirens growing up, Eden initially did not panic.

“No matter how many wars or sirens a person has lived through, you should never become indifferent,” she says today. “You always have to run to a protected place that can save your life.”

The Decision That Saved Their Lives

While many festivalgoers rushed toward the parking lot and their cars, Eden planned to return to the festival area to meet her sister and brother-in-law so they could leave together.

That was when a man named Dudi warned them about gunfire outside the grounds.

“He told us, ‘Stay inside until things calm down,’” Eden remembers.

At first, they headed toward a police command post, but the overwhelming chaos made them search for another hiding place. Eventually, they found a small drywall ticket booth with open windows covered by bars.

“At first we sat on chairs inside,” Eden says. “But as the gunfire came closer, we immediately hid under the tables attached to the walls.”

One small detail ended up becoming lifesaving.

“The booth had a lock on the door,” she says. “That lock saved us twice.”

“They’re Here”

The group locked themselves inside the booth. Minutes later, someone tried opening the door.

“When they realized it was locked, they went to the window. We saw an Israeli man named Gal and immediately let him in before locking the door again.”

Soon afterward, two more Israelis, Tomer and Michael, joined them in the cramped hiding place.

Outside, the sounds of gunfire and explosions grew constant.

“There were endless gunshots and blasts,” Eden recalls. “But at the same time, there was silence from people. No voices. No screaming anymore.”

Then came the moment they realized terrorists were nearby.

“At first we heard voices and thought maybe everything was okay because someone spoke Hebrew,” she says. “But suddenly we started hearing Arabic. We looked at each other and understood immediately: ‘They’re here.’”

“We Accepted Our Death”

The terrorists repeatedly tried forcing open the booth door.

“Twice they pulled on the door violently,” Eden says. “But when they saw it was locked, they left.”

The group remained hidden inside the tiny booth for nearly six hours.

At one point, exhaustion overtook them.

“There were moments of complete silence, and somehow we even fell asleep.”

But Eden says she will never forget how she woke up.

“I suddenly heard my sister screaming. I opened my eyes and saw a terrorist standing directly outside the window, staring at us.”

The terrorist demanded money.

“We threw him our phones and wallets,” she says. “He took everything, smiled, and walked away.”

At that point, the group believed their end had come.

“We started saying Shema Yisrael,” Eden recalls. “We were sure he would tell the others we were there and they would come kill us. We accepted our death, while still holding on to tiny moments of faith that somehow we might survive.”

Waiting for Rescue

Two more agonizing hours passed after the terrorist left.

“For two hours, every gunshot we heard sounded like it was coming for us,” she says.

Then suddenly, they heard shouting outside once again.

This time, however, the voices were speaking Hebrew.

“We heard shouting, more Hebrew, and then gunfire,” Eden recalls. “We raised our heads and suddenly saw Israeli soldiers.”

The group emerged with their hands raised, crying uncontrollably.

“We kept shouting, ‘We’re Israelis, we’re Israelis.’”

Even today, years later, Eden still struggles to put the experience into words.

“It was so close every single time,” she says. “Thank you to Hashem for every miracle Suand every moment of protection.”