Feted by school children, tossing out a first pitch: Former Israeli hostage grapples with celebrity

BOSTON — Three months after his release from Hamas captivity, Omer Shem Tov stood on the pitcher's mound at a Boston Red Sox game. Surrounded by supporters, he tossed out the first pitch, then raised his arms in celebration. His name flashed on the stadium billboard.

The moment was emblematic of the new-found — and for Shem Tov, unsought and at times unsettling — celebrity the 22-year-old has found since his release from 505 days of captivity in the Gaza Strip.

Before being taken hostage, Shem Tov had just finished military service, was working in a restaurant, having fun with friends and planning an overseas trip. Now, he's in the public eye as he travels the globe campaigning for the release of the remaining 58 hostages — a third of whom are believed still alive.

Upon his arrival at Boston's Logan International Airport Shem Tov was greeted by dozens of schoolchildren and their teachers — wearing ''Boston Loves Omer'' T-shirts — singing Israeli songs in Hebrew and dancing with him.

He toured Gillette Stadium, home of the NFL's New England Patriots and Major League Soccer's New England Revolution. He met with an Israeli player for the Revolution, and saw the Patriots' six Super Bowl rings. Both teams are owned by entrepreneur Robert Kraft, whose foundation campaigns against antisemitism.

''I don't like the word, but I'm famous,'' Shem Tov acknowledged of the chance to throw out the first pitch at his very first baseball game ever, and the other firsts he's had in Boston.

''I know that a lot of people, a big nation waited for me and a lot of people (fought) for me to come back home," he said of the international campaign waged by hostage families since the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks, when 251 hostages were seized and about 1,200 people, mostly civilians, were killed by Hamas-led militants.

More than 53,000 Palestinians, mostly women and children have been killed in Israel's retaliatory offensive in Gaza, according to Gaza's Health Ministry. Huge areas of Gaza have been destroyed and around 90% of its population displaced.

A return to normal, but also a sense of guilt

Shem Tov believes he is doing ''something important'' but said it ''can be hard." His return to normal life has not been without challenges. He still freezes when he hears the sound of a jet plane, and is wracked with guilt that things he now enjoys are beyond the reach of the remaining hostages.

''I get greeted in the street. People stop me and want selfies and stuff like this,'' he said. ''I support it and I will speak to anyone, anyone, anyone ... because everyone wants to give out love.''

Still, little things like ''going and grabbing a bite to eat, I feel it here,'' Shem Tov said, clutching his throat. ''It's choking me that I know what they are going through. Maybe they don't have food."

"I remember taking the first bite of anything, it was heavenly," he said. "I'm showering and I have guilt that they don't take a shower."

Shem Tov, who was attending the Tribe of Nova music festival in southern Israel the day of the attack, described trying to flee with friends Maya and Itay Regev in a car driven by Ori Danino, a stranger who took them in. Militants shot at the car, forced them out and dragged them into Gaza. The Regev siblings were released in a November 2023 ceasefire; Danino was later killed.

''I remember the festival itself, the freedom and happiness and us as youth having fun,'' Shem Tov said.

''In seconds, life changed for us. My friends who were there with me, some got killed. Those who came back, they are not the same."

Living in darkness

Shem Tov said he was initially held above ground with Itay Regev, shuttled between apartments in Gaza — wearing women's cloths to hide their identities.

He was eventually moved to a cell 130 feet (40 meters) underground, where he was often in total darkness. He survived on little more than a biscuit daily, he said — dropping from around 176 pounds (80 kilograms) to 121 pounds (55 kilograms).

''There were times I thought, I'm blind. I have been starved. I have been spat on. I've been cursed. Difficult, difficult times,'' Shem Tov said.

His faith got him through the worst, he said. He began daily conversations with God, offering a greeting and, over time, thanks for all he had — the ''air in my lungs,'' ''the small amounts of food that I have'' and that his family was safe.

Shem Tov said he initially wasn't aware of the battle raging above him. But when he was moved to a tunnel closer to the surface, he could hear Israeli tanks rumbling above and bombs shaking the area.

At one point, he could hear Israeli soldiers' voices through a ventilation unit.

''As much as I was glad to hear them, I was very, very scared for my life,'' he said. ''The captors that kept me in the tunnels told me as soon as the army or soldiers are heading here, we'll shoot you."

‘The first time I feel safe'

When he was released on Feb. 22 with five others as part of a ceasefire deal, video showed Shem Tov surrounded by masked, armed Hamas fighters. Under duress, he was seen kissing the head of a Hamas fighter and blowing kisses to the crowd. A van passed in front of the stage, he recalled, and a door opened revealing two hostages who were not being released.

He was handed over to the Red Cross and taken to an area controlled by the Israeli military. ''I get out of the vehicle, I look around, I see the sky, the sun. The first time, I feel safe,'' he said, adding that he asked an Israeli soldier if he could hug her.

''It's the first time in forever I feel love and warmth,'' he said.

Shem Tov was taken to meet his parents — his mother, Shelly Shem Tov, had kept his bedroom as he left it, with instructions that nobody should touch or clean it until he came home and did it himself.

''I see my mom and my dad and I run up to them, and I hug them,'' Shem Tov said. ''I waited for this moment for so long. I imagined it for so long. This is what I want every hostage to experience.''

Shem Tov has embraced the role of advocating for those still hostage — something his parents were already doing — telling anyone who listens they must be brought home.

''It's really fulfilling. I love what I am doing but don't like the cause,'' he said. ''I wish they were all here today. I hope it will be soon and in good circumstances.''

And while he is reluctant to talk politics, Shem Tov worries Israel's latest offensive in Gaza puts the remaining hostages in danger.

''Every soldier for me is a hero,'' he said. ''But there is a big but. For me and the hostages, it's difficult for us while the army is in the area. Places near us are being bombed. I support the army but we have to get them out."

"If you keep on going with the military pressure, there is a big chance they will be killed.''