Sheltering With the Crusaders

A rocket alert, a medieval toilet, and another ordinary day in Israel.

The Beebers finally made it.

After months of uncertainty, canceled flights, regional tensions, and friends back home questioning their sanity, Gregg and Miriam Beeber landed in Israel.

A few days later, we found ourselves taking shelter from Hezbollah rockets while standing inside a 900-year-old Crusader latrine.

If that sounds unusual, welcome to Israel.

After recovering from jet lag in Tel Aviv, we headed north along the Mediterranean coast to Akko, or Acre if you’re a Crusader. You say Acre, I say Akko.

Akko is one of the most fascinating places in Israel because an entire Crusader city lies buried beneath the Ottoman city that sits above it. It is one of the reasons Akko was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. As a tour guide, it’s one of my favorite places to explain how history in Israel isn’t layered neatly in books. It’s layered literally under your feet.

As we descended beneath the Ottoman fortress into the excavated halls of the Knights Hospitaller compound, I was doing what tour guides do: talking.

And talking.

And talking.

I explained the Crusaders.

I explained the Hospitallers.

I explained Saladin, Baybars, el-Jazzar and Napoleon.

I explained sieges, battles, architecture, and medieval sanitation.

Which is how we eventually found ourselves standing inside the Crusader latrines.

For those wondering, medieval toilets were not exactly what one would describe as luxurious. But after surviving for 900 years, they are surprisingly sturdy.

Then the sirens sounded.

A rocket alert.

According to our phones, Hezbollah had launched rockets from Lebanon.

We had 45 seconds to seek shelter.

Fortunately, we were already standing about as deep underground as it is possible to be in Akko inside a medieval fortress designed to withstand attack.

“Let’s stay here,” I told Gregg and Miriam.

I can’t honestly say that was part of my guiding plan for the day.

Nor did I ever expect to utter the sentence:

“Everyone remain calm. The Crusader bathroom should protect us.”

For those wondering what a 900-year-old Crusader bomb shelter looks like, here it is.

As we waited underground, another alert appeared on our phones.

The IDF had reportedly captured Beaufort Castle in southern Lebanon.

Now the story became even stranger.

Beaufort is another Crusader fortress. The Crusaders built it. Muslim armies captured it. The Mamluks damaged it. The Ottomans inherited it. The PLO occupied it. The IDF captured it in 1982, withdrew in 2000, and now it was apparently back in the news again.

There we were taking shelter in one Crusader fortress while reading reports about fighting around another Crusader fortress.

At some point I began wondering if the Crusaders had ever really left.

My family knew I was guiding in Akko.

Whenever rockets are launched in Israel loved ones immediately check on one another.

My family WhatsApp group immediately lit up.

Lily:

“Dad, are you in Akko? sirens?”

Me:

“Yes.”

“In Akko.”

“Sheltering in a Crusader fortress.”

“Very cool.”

A few moments later Diane responded:

“Thank God we value history and protected those Crusader castles.”

I laughed.

But honestly, she had a point.

There aren’t many countries where preserving medieval architecture can unexpectedly become part of your emergency preparedness strategy.

Then again, there aren’t many countries where a tour of a UNESCO World Heritage Site can suddenly become an air raid drill.

Israel has a funny way of making history feel less like the past and more like current events.

Here, you can spend the morning discussing King David, the afternoon walking through ancient Roman roads, Byzantine ruins, Crusader halls, Mamluk arches, and Ottoman markets, and before dinner find yourself checking the Home Front Command app.

Everything happens at once.

The Crusaders apparently refuse to leave.

And history is never content to stay in the history books.

Eventually the all-clear sounded.

We exited the latrine, dusted ourselves off, and continued the tour.

I suppose that’s another thing about Israel.

When rockets interrupt your day while you’re standing in a 900-year-old Crusader bathroom, you don’t cancel the tour.

You simply add it to the story.