Ashkelon's battle: Not to become Sderot

Over the years, Ashkelon has become a success story. From being mainly the home for an ongoing influx of new immigrants, it has developed into an attractive, well-kept seaside city boasting a high quality of life and abounding with tourists. Ashkelon was well on its way to becoming one of the leading locales in the country - until the rocket attacks of the last few days turned the southern city on its head, and reminded residents that they are only a few minutes away from the Qassam-battered city of Sderot.

Local residents are now confronting a cruel new reality of disquiet and uncertainty face-to-face. What will the attacks do to the city, residents ask one another. How will it affect local businesses? Will the rockets lower the value of the houses? And the most serious question: Will life under the shadow of sirens and rockets cause people to flee?

Ashkelon Mayor Roni Mehatzri was holed up in the municipal war room yesterday, known to residents as "the pit." When he became mayor four years ago, it never crossed his mind that he would turn into the latest version of Sderot Mayor Eli Moyal, who regularly asks the government to protect his city from the ongoing Qassam rocket fire from the Gaza Strip. Mehatzri worked hard yesterday to sever any connection between his city and its ill-fated Negev neighbor.

"I don't want to become Sderot," he said. "I just hope that it's a matter of mere days. No one in the city is considering living like this for a long time."

Over the weekend dozens of Qassam rockets and Grad-type Katyushas were fired at Ashkelon, Sderot and communities bordering Gaza. A rocket scored a direct hit on an Ashkelon house Thursday and another crashed into the living room of a pair of retirees in Ashkelon early Saturday morning, leaving a gaping hole in the roof. The Defense Ministry ordered the early-warning "color red" alert system to be activated in Ashkelon on Friday.

Prime Minister Ehud Olmert and Defense Minister Ehud Barak called Mehatzri to give him their support after the Saturday attack, as municipal employees worked to close the huge hole that a Grad missile left in back of a commercial center.

The rocket shook and shattered everything in its path: car windows, glass and window blinds. Virtually no building was left without a sign of the 5 A.M. attack, which awakened thousands of residents.

A hundred meters from the site where the rocket fell, Shmuel Cohen's apartment shook, causing his family to think an earthquake had hit. Cohen's wife went into hysterics and their children screamed in fear. They gathered in the living room and saw rocket fragments strike the house, destroying their possessions. Shmuel recited a blessing in synagogue later that day to thank God for sparing him and his family.

The city center was desolate yesterday afternoon, as yet another Grad slammed into Ashkelon and deafening ambulance sirens could be heard. Yael Vaknin stood next to the city's emergency headquarters and smoked a cigarette to release some tension.

"What scares me most is that they've targeted us," said Vaknin. "I have the feeling that Ashkelon won't go back to being what it was. That's it: As of this week, it's a totally different life. Because now there's something ticking in the heart of every resident. It's the ticking of the next rocket."