I admit that I didn’t really know Marla all that well. That’s why this is just “a little bit” about her, not her life story. But I did know her, and none of you will have that opportunity now, so I’m going to share.
Marla was from San Diego. She went to UC Berkeley. I knew her in 1998-1999, when we were both part of the University of California’s Education Abroad Program at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. Marla’s hair was prematurely graying. Marla’s best friend was Emma, who was also on our program, and had an extremely high-pitched voice. We both volunteered as tutors for Ethiopian-Israeli kids when we lived in Haifa for a couple months, before the program moved us to Jerusalem. Marla worked on the costume and makeup for the school production of Les Miserbles, which I was in. Although we never really clicked as friends, all of us UC kids knew each other, as we were often invited to the same events, like parties that our advisor would have. She was a nice person, an acquaintance to stop and chat with when I passed her in the hall at school.
I hadn’t seen Marla since June 1999, and I hadn’t thought of her in a while. I didn’t know what she was up to at all. Turns out that she went back to Hebrew U to do her masters in Judaic Studies. And yesterday, while eating lunch, she was killed when a bomb went off at the Frank Sinatra, a cafeteria I have sat in a hundred times. She had been planning on returning to the United States this Friday.
Marla was 24, like me. I can still see her so clearly, pins in her mouth as she worked on a costume for the play.
