Was it the heat? It was a very hot day, near or above one hundred degrees.
Was it the long climb? The climb was steeply up hill almost half a mile.
Was it my age? I was in my early sixties, old enough for the climb to require effort.
Was it my emotional sympathy for the events and deaths there? Very likely, I had before.
Was I dehydrated? Also, very likely. I don’t remember drinking anything before the hike.
Was I carrying too much? I don’t remember exactly, but we carried picnic food and supplies.
Was I physically in shape for such exertion? No.
Did I indicate I was not well? Again, no. My son had his own family concerns.
Therefore, it was no surprise to me that I felt faint. I needed to lie down in the shade, but there was little shade, and nothing to lie down on but the dirt, so I did not. I was able to find a ledge of some sort, in a bit of shade, and I sat there for several minutes until my head stopped swirling.
Did I actually faint? No. But that may have been due to an extreme exertion of will not to. I had fainted often in my life for various reasons, many times for no reason that I knew of. Later, on reflection, I am aware that for a period of time I nearly, or actually, fainted every morning from low blood sugar (one time landing on a small bathroom heater burning my side). I had also fainted from emotional sympathy while watching a movie on my college campus. I had also come close to fainting from heat exhaustion.
I did not want to faint for my son’s sake. There was nothing he could have done to assist me, so I sat on the ledge, in a bit of shade, until my head cleared and I could stand on my own easily.
Needless to say, the fainting spell spoiled my time at Masada. I knew of the battle of the Jews against the Romans. I knew of the hundreds, almost a thousand, lives were lost of men, women and children. The heat was intense. The geography was more desolate and bleak than anything I’d ever seen, including driving through the desert in California. Someone had decided the group of us would eat there, so the hike in the heat was done on an empty stomach. All were prime ingredients for fainting, and I nearly did.
My son knew something was wrong, but I didn’t want him to worry, so I brushed it off. I did not rest as long as I knew I should have – that would have concerned him. I got up and we carried on.
I did not walk down from the top of Masada to the palace on the side of the cliff that King Herod had had built, I was appalled at the view: absolute desolation! Not a tree for as far as one could see. Not a bush, not a blade of grass. Masada is beside the Dead Sea. It truly is Dead and Desolate! Coming from my farming background on the rolling, verdant hills of eastern Kansas, where it is green for as far as one can see, and in some places that can be ten or twenty miles, maybe more, the desolation was beyond comprehension. WHY would anyone want to be there, ever? I could not fathom.
I knew logically, but not emotionally.
Yet, Herod had had this palace built, in this desolate out of the way place, hidden where he could finally feel safe, for he had many enemies. For the same reason, the Jews had sought refuge there away from the Romans, by this time the palace had been abandoned and deserted for nearly a century, but that did not save them.
It was all overwhelming; the fainting did not surprise me.
Yet, it was an experience I cannot forget.
Though it happened about ten years ago, this is the first time I’ve written about it because I did not want my son to know how serious my situation really was.