Last night, I experienced one of those rare déjà vu moments on a beautiful late-October evening in Tel Aviv. As I exited the jam-packed Ayalon Highway, a familiar warmth washed over me — that sense of I’ve been here before. In an instant, I was transported back six years, to evenings when I lived far from Tel Aviv, in the quiet Negev desert town of Mitzpe Ramon.
Back then, I would rent a car and drive north for meetings of the Mankind Project, held in an office building not far from the HaShalom exit. The contrast couldn’t have been greater: the urban buzz of Tel Aviv versus the star-filled, moonlit serenity of Mitzpe Ramon. Last night, in that wave of déjà vu, I felt a surge of pride — pride in how far I’ve come since the summer of 2019, when I arrived in Israel as an Oleh Hadash, a new immigrant beginning a new chapter.
In 2019, I was nervous — even a bit intimidated — at the thought of navigating Tel Aviv on my own. Finding the right building, the right entrance, the right elevator, and the right floor felt like a monumental victory, especially when I couldn’t yet read Hebrew. I still remember the joy of realizing: I made it!
Last night, however, I was on my way to Tel Aviv Fashion Week with complete confidence — confident in my GPS, my knowledge of the city’s traffic quirks, and even my ability to handle its famously impatient drivers. Of course, parking was still a challenge — some things never change.
The déjà vu made perfect sense once I realized how many threads had come together that evening, October 29th. In Israel, it was Yom HaAliyah, the national day celebrating those of us who chose to make this country our home. Many Israelis still wonder why anyone would leave America — the Goldene Medina, the land of opportunity — for this tiny, still-developing country surrounded by hostile neighbors for over 75 years.
My reasons for making aliyah have filled several of my blog posts for The Times of Israel since 2016 — and I can now say with certainty that it’s been one of the best decisions of my life.
But there was another connection weaving through my thoughts last night — the JewishColorado Men’s Event taking place that same evening in my hometown of Denver. JewishColorado, our local Federation, has hosted this event for decades — an annual night of fellowship – a gathering of Jewish men to eat, drink, socialize, and reaffirm our support for Israel and the community’s social services. Politicians, both Jewish and not, often attend — eager to connect and better understand the values and priorities of an engaged Jewish community. (For the record, there’s also a women’s version each year called Choices.)
I attended the inaugural Men’s Event years ago — a modest affair of about 200 men, headlined by Marv Levy, the legendary Buffalo Bills coach. Over time, it’s grown into a massive celebration drawing several thousand participants, now held in a converted airplane hangar at Wings Over the Rockies on the old Lowry Air Force Base. This year’s featured speaker was Avi Mayer — a fellow Oleh, a prominent Israeli writer, analyst, and former Jerusalem Post editor-in-chief.
I found myself missing that event — the camaraderie, the chance to reconnect, to network, to introduce political friends to Denver’s Jewish community. But standing amid the energy of Tel Aviv Fashion Week — surrounded by creativity, resilience, and pride — I realized something. My journey had brought me full circle: from the Men’s Event in Denver to Fashion Week in Tel Aviv. Different worlds, perhaps, but united by the same thread — a deep, enduring connection to Israel and the Jewish people.
Readers might wonder: how did I go from the Mankind Project and the Men’s Event to Fashion Week? That’s an interesting — and connected — part of the story. I was invited to join one of my closest Israeli friends, artist, photographer, museum curator, fashionista and model Ellada Ilana Matatov. Fashion Week is her natural habitat, and I’m fortunate to be her friend.
Last night’s runway featured the designs of students from Tel Aviv’s renowned Shenkar School of Engineering, Design, and Art — Israel’s equivalent of New York’s Fashion Institute of Technology. Over a hundred models of all ages and backgrounds brought the designs to life. The creativity on display, matched by the enthusiasm of the crowd — the music, lighting, and staging — all combined into an uplifting celebration of Israeli imagination and talent.
Before the show began, a few speakers took the stage, as expected. But this is October 2025 — the Hamas invasion, hostage crisis, and war in Gaza remain ever-present in our national consciousness. The mother of Hilly Solomon was introduced and called to address the audience. On October 7, 2023, Hilly and her friend were murdered by Hamas terrorists at the Nova Music Festival. It took two long days to find and return their bodies for burial.
Hilly’s clothing designs were on display at last night’s Fashion Week. Her mother spoke movingly about the hole left in her heart and the ongoing trauma of losing her beloved daughter to such traumatic violence. Even at the most vibrant, creative, and hopeful events, we are reminded of all we have lost — and yet, we carry on, honoring their memory through art, beauty, and the unbreakable spirit of life in Israel.
And that, perhaps, is what lingered with me long after I stepped out into the warm Tel Aviv night. From the Men’s Event in Denver to Fashion Week in Tel Aviv, I’ve journeyed far — not only in distance, but in purpose and belonging. The settings could not be more different, yet both pulse with the same heartbeat of our story: a people who refuse to be defined by tragedy alone, who insist on rebuilding, creating, and celebrating life in all its fragile brilliance.
What connects these worlds is not fashion or philanthropy, but people — the gatherings, the friendships, the shared moments of meaning that stitch us together across oceans and generations. We continue to choose life, to honor memory through creation, to turn grief into beauty and resilience.
Ken Toltz began his professional career at AIPAC in Washington, D.C. after attending Hebrew University in Jerusalem. He’s a 3rd generation Colorado native, businessman and long-time gun violence prevention activist. After 42 years from his first visit to Israel, in 2019 he relocated his home to Mitzpe Ramon in Israel’s Negev. Ken currently resides in Herzliya. He writes about Israeli politics, relations with the U.S. and the Israeli creative class of writers and filmmakers.
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