As you know, the evacuation has begun. We can only say tonight that this is very hard to watch. So many tears, so much anxiety, so much sorrow as people leave their homes and as their communities fragment and disappear. These are people who have lived together for many years in small communities, people who have forged bonds and friendship with one another through the hard work and joy of fulfilling together what they saw as their mission. These are people whose communties have suffered more terrorism than any other community during the intefadas, people who have lived with Qassam missiles landing in their gardens, people who have lost sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, husbands and wives to terrorists, people -- adults and children -- who have been left forever physically maimed by losing hands and legs in explosions. These are people who have built beautiful houses in graceful communities, who have built synagogues and gymnasiums, and beautiful gardens. Who have developed greenhouses and agriculture in the desert. Most of them are religious and devoted to the Jewish faith. It feels terrible to watch them being torn (sometimes quite literally) from their homes, torn from their friends, often with no knowledge of where they are going or where their children will be in school in September. This morning on the front page of Ha'aretz there was an exceptionally moving photograph of soldiers crying with the settlers they were helping to evacuate. There is no question that we are witnessing an exceedingly painful moment in the history of our country.

Tonight at midnight anyone who has not left voluntarily will be forcibly evacuated. There are about 4,000 people who have infiltrated into Gush Katif, and it is these people who are likely to instigate violence. The settlers of Gush Katif and the other settlements have promised that they will protest passively and not confront the soldiers and police with violence. The residents of Netzarim promise to welcome the soldiers and police with hugs and love. They believe that G-d will save them, will prevent the evacuation. They have not begun to pack.

I know that your papers are carrying lots of news about this event; our goal is to tell you what it feels like to be here during this time. Tonight we are witnessing innumerable stories of personal tragedy. Tonight there is not much more to be said. I keep remembering, though, that this painful step is key in determining the future of Israel as a Jewish democratic state. It was a brave move on the part of Sharon. We can talk about the politics later.

Pat