Mother of American-Israeli Hostage, 23, Shares Her Anguish as She Prays for His Return: ‘Going Through Hell’

When people ask Rachel Goldberg how she is doing following the kidnapping of her 23-year-old firstborn and only son, Hersh Goldberg-Polin, she speaks plainly: "Terrible,” accompanied by a soft shrug.

Hersh, an American-Israeli born in Berkeley, Calif., was at the deadly Nova music festival in Israel, where more than 260 attendees were massacred by Hamas terrorists. While taking cover in a bomb shelter, a grenade blew off Hersh's arm from the elbow down. When Hamas ordered those who could walk to leave the shelter, Hersh was among them, and his phone would soon ping from across the border in Gaza, where authorities say he is being held hostage.

His parents, who were born and raised in Chicago and moved to Israel 15 years ago, haven't heard from him since.

"I think when you're in hell, if you stop, then you're really stuck. So when you're going through hell, keep walking — and that's what I'm doing," Rachel says, roughly one week after Hamas' surprise terrorist attack on Israel, which has plunged the area into war. Here, her story, as told to PEOPLE reporter Andrea Mandell on Oct. 15.

I don't live in the universe you live in anymore. I live in an alternate universe. My husband Jon and I, we have brand new 24/7 jobs: All we do is try to help save Hersh. I get up in the morning and I go have a cup of tea, and then I go to get dressed and I say to Jon, "I'll go do my cry now." And I cry and scream into my T-shirt or whatever it is. And then I'm like, all right, got to go to work. And then I go to work for the next 20 hours.

The Wednesday before all of this terrible stuff took place, Hersh went up north to a trance festival, and he was supposed to be there until Sunday. But on Friday afternoon, the police came and said to them, "You guys don't have the right permits, so we're closing down the festival." So he and all of his buddies left, and he called Friday afternoon and said, "Actually, I am coming home for tonight," which we were happy about because it's Simchat Torah, this really fun Jewish holiday. So we said, "Great, you'll come home."

So we went to synagogue. He danced with the Torah. We went to our friends’ and had this great meal. Around 11 p.m. he kissed me, he hugged our hosts goodbye, and he left to go be with his buddy, Aner, to go camp out somewhere. And it's Israel — I didn't say, Give me your coordinates. They're 23, they're not babies. And that was the last time I saw him.

Saturday morning I was drinking a cup of tea in the kitchen and close to 8 a.m., the sirens went off in Jerusalem. And so I quickly went to wake my girls who were still asleep to get them into our bomb shelter. After we didn't hear anything and 10 minutes passed, I went upstairs to get my phone and there were two texts from Hersh. One said "I love you." And the second said, "I'm sorry." And I instantly knew something horrible was about to happen. Most 23-year-old boys at 8:10 in the morning aren't writing to their parents, "I love you" and "I'm sorry." I mean, to me, it was just horrible.

And then we had to figure out, well, where are they? And my daughter started to quickly do some investigatory research online. And she said, "Oh, there's a nature music festival happening in the south." A third friend of theirs wrote back immediately, "Yes, they're there."

And then we were just desperate trying to figure out, how do we find him? Subsequently we received a picture that showed that he had made it to a bomb shelter. So we were very happy to hear that because it was someone else's picture that they posted on social media. 

We could see Hersh on the side, midway in the room, and we saw Aner in the doorway, and there were about 30 people mashed in there. And what we came to find out is that Hamas came to the door and started throwing in hand grenades.

Everyone who we spoke to who did walk out alive and was not held captive has told us they would not be living if it wasn't for Aner, because he kept catching these grenades and throwing them out very, very fast. He also was trying to fight these people who had submachine guns that they were shooting. He was trying to fight them with his hands and his feet. He was right in the door.

We heard this from people who pretended that they were dead under the bodies because there were so many people killed. There was a lull and smoke from the grenades, and then Hamas walked in and they said, "Whoever can stand up, stand up." And there were three young men who stood up. One of them was Hersh, and all three of the eyewitnesses who were hiding and playing dead said that Hersh’s arm below the elbow had been blown off, and sometime during that lull, he had tied on a tourniquet. They all said he didn't cry out. He didn't make any sound. 

The police and the army and some representatives here have confirmed that Hersh was kidnapped according to what they know. His cell phone signal shows that he was in Gaza, and we haven't heard from him since. And honestly, I have no idea if he's alive. His body might be in Gaza. I don't know. I try to picture tying a tourniquet tight enough if you're missing a whole limb by yourself, not having access to antibiotics or any type of medication.

This past Thursday night, we got confirmation that Aner’s body was found. And so Friday we went to bury him with his family. They've been little boys together, there are so many cute pictures of them through the years doing fun things. Their crime was going to a music festival.

When I'm sitting with these other American families who have loved ones who are being held hostage, it's children. It's one woman — her 80th birthday is tomorrow. I mean, this is not recognizable what is happening right now.

I am hopeful and I am praying. And I am a mother who would love nothing more than for my son to be home, and that's all I can be focused on. Hersh is my only son and he's my first child. He's what made me a mother. I feel like God could have given him to anyone and he gave me the perfect son for me.

Who is Hersh? He has a dry, dark, but not mean sense of humor. Hersh is a voracious reader, so he knows lots of trivia and random things. He's been obsessed since first grade with geography, he's been planning this huge trip around the world since he was a little boy.

This past summer in Europe, he went to six different music festivals by himself, and he made friends along the way. Everywhere he went with his tiny little backpack, because who needs more than two shirts? At some point my husband Jon said to him, "Please tell me you are changing your underwear."

And he's a really kind person and very, very respectful. I realized in this last week that I've never heard Hersh yell ever. He's a very even-keeled person, and I really, really hope he's a survivor.