United by Fire: How Torah and Courage Saved a City

A week after the devastating wave of fires that swept through Israel, Eli Asoulin, a firefighter at the Haifa Airport station, shared a story that moved hearts across the country. It’s a story not only of flames, but of miracles, unity, and the quiet strength that comes from Torah learning.

“You run straight into the fire,” Eli recalls. “You only have a basic gas mask because your oxygen tank is already empty. The flames are wild, people are crying for help, begging you to save their homes. You don’t have time to think about anything else. It’s like war, and your mission is to save lives.”

This wasn’t just any fire. It was a crown fire, a dangerous blaze that races through the tops of the trees, nearly impossible to control. “You can’t stop it once it reaches the treetops,” Eli explains. “We tried to protect the homes, soaking them in water before the flames reached them. But all it takes is one burning pine cone, flying through the air like a grenade, and everything can be destroyed in seconds.”

On ordinary days, Eli and his team stay near Haifa’s airport, part of the aviation firefighting unit responsible for safety at Air Force bases. But during the Haifa inferno, his team was called into action. “There was no organized plan. We just got there and were told, ‘Pick a spot and get to work.’ Everything was already on fire around us.”

Eli remembers one moment that deeply touched him. “My friend, Eli Schwarzberg, ran into the flames and saved a synagogue. We were all emotional. It was the only shul in that area, and people were standing outside crying, terrified it would burn down. They carried out the Sefer Torah in tears. You’re on the ladder spraying water, and people are pleading with you, ‘Please save our synagogue.’”

When asked what was the hardest part, Eli doesn’t hesitate. “Seeing people come to you with red, tear-filled eyes, begging for help. You want to help them all, but you can’t be everywhere at once. That’s heartbreaking.”

But Eli says something incredible changed their station long before the fire: a weekly Torah class. “For the past year, we’ve had the great privilege of a Torah shiur once a week at the station. Rabbi Yosef Zarka from Arachim in Rechasim comes and speaks with us about life, emunah (faith), family, shalom bayit (peace in the home), raising children. It changed everything.”

He says with emotion, “Everyone comes to the class, even the station commander. And it’s transformed us. Before, there were arguments and tension. But now, there’s real brotherhood. I have no doubt that it was this Torah learning that gave us the strength to rush into the flames with unity and love for others. It wasn’t just firefighting. It was a holy mission.”

“You can’t go into a fire without unity,” he adds. “People were shouting, ‘Save our homes, at least save a memory for us!’ And we went in, without hesitation. The passion we had came from that Torah class. It made us want to help, no matter what.”

On a personal note, Eli shares that he and his family were also touched by the power of Torah. “I went to a seminar on Judaism, and it changed my whole home. This year, I enrolled my son in first grade at a Talmud Torah (Jewish elementary school) in Kfar Gidon. It’s small, just four or five boys in the class, most of them only sons. But the chinuch (education) he gets is so special. He brings home Torah ideas, and our whole house is different now.”

What started as a rescue mission became something much deeper, a story of Jewish unity, of saving both physical homes and spiritual ones. And at the center of it all was the quiet power of a weekly Torah class, kindling a fire of connection and compassion that burned brighter than the flames.