Holocaust Survivor Avigdor Neuman told his story in front of the Knesset’s Chagall tapestries, in Jerusalem. In Hostages Square in Tel Aviv, thousands gathered to hear survivor Aliza Landau recount her experiences, along with the parents of hostages speaking about their sons’ continued captivity in Gaza. Dozens of teenage volunteer EMTs gathered at a Magen David Adom ambulance station in northern Israel to hear Holocaust survivor David Peleg speak. Women gathered in a Pilates studio in central Israel to hear a fellow member share her mother’s story of survival. 

And in hundreds of living rooms around Israel on Wednesday evening, Holocaust survivors or their children told countless stories to small groups. In the days leading up to Yom Hashoah, which began at sundown Wednesday, Israelis using the navigation app Waze could see the locations of such events and find links to sign up. One of those locations, in the central Israel city of Hod Hasharon, is the home of Adi Altschuler, the founder of Zikaron BaSalon – “memory in the living room.”

In between preparations to host 40 people for her own Yom Hashoah event, Altschuler spoke to Jewish Insider about how her initiative has become a ubiquitous way for Israelis to mark Yom Hashoah, the day that Israel commemorates the Holocaust. Over 2 million people attended Zikaron BaSalon events across the world this year, according to Altschuler.

Altschuler, 38, is an award-winning social entrepreneur who has been a well-known name in Israel for over 20 years since, as a teenager, she founded a youth movement for children with and without special needs to do activities together. 

The idea for Zikaron BaSalon brewed slowly, beginning in 2010, when she forgot about Yom Hashoah altogether, Altschuler said.

“I don’t have a personal family connection to the Holocaust,” she recounted. “I felt that I couldn’t connect to the topic … I was scared of it and deterred from it.” 

Altschuler heard sad music on the radio one day, and then talked to her mother on the phone and asked if something tragic had happened – because in Israel, when there is a terror attack, the music stations only play sad songs. Her mother reminded her that Yom Hashoah was beginning in a few hours and asked her how she planned to commemorate the day.

“I said, I don’t know, maybe I’ll watch ‘Schindler’s List,’” Altschuler said. “My mother was angry with me, so I went with her to a ceremony in Tel Aviv. I was 24 years old and I was the only one there who was under 60.”

“That was when it occurred to me that I am part of the last generation who will meet Holocaust survivors … I said to myself, what will Yom Hashoah look like in 30 years? … What will happen when there aren’t survivors anymore?” she asked.

Altschuler said she thought Yom Hashoah could end up either like Tisha B’Av – the day on which Jews fast to mark the destruction of the Temple, and something that most Israelis don’t observe – or the Passover Seder, which over 90% of Israeli Jews observe.

The following Yom Hashoah, Altschuler once again looked for a way to mark the day, and went to the same ceremony in Tel Aviv. On the way to her car, she heard shouting from an apartment, and could see through the windows that people her age were watching a soccer game.

“I thought, this is why people aren’t at the ceremony. They’re in their living rooms,” she said.

That was when the idea for Zikaron BaSalon started to come together. A year after that, Altschuler invited a Holocaust survivor to her home to tell her story, and 10 friends to hear her. Ultimately, 40 people attended.

For Altschuler, hearing a survivor’s testimony “took the big story of 6 million and turned it into the story of one person,” helping her connect. 

And the survivor herself, who had previously been intimidated by the idea of speaking at Yad Vashem or an entire school, had a chance to tell her story. The survivor started by saying “I hope I won’t disappoint you,” because she was hidden as a child and did not survive a concentration camp. Altschuler said these events, which feature a broad range of survivors with varying experiences, also give recognition to people whose Holocaust stories are different from what people are used to hearing.

“For the survivors who are still with us,” Altschuler said, “they want to be remembered and they want us to remember those who are not with us. It gives them a lot of strength, even when it is difficult for them to tell their stories.”

Altschuler and her friends asked questions and at the end, a friend took out a guitar and they sang songs.

“It wasn’t a ceremony that was forced on us. We created the experience,” she said. “We started a conversation about what we need to remember and what we can learn today. We even argued. It wasn’t sterile. But there was something in the informality of a living room that was right and authentic.” 

Altschuler then asked everyone who was in her living room to invite people to their homes the following year, which meant there were 40 salons in Israel, plus one in south Florida, where a friend of Altschuler’s lived, and where there is a large concentration of Holocaust survivors. 

In the ensuing years, Zikaron BaSalon expanded to 2 million attendees across 65 countries — 1.5 million of whom are in Israel. The president of Germany hosts one each year. Israel’s three major TV channels broadcast live from the events. 

After the Oct. 7 attacks on Israel, Altschuler said hearing survivors’ stories had an even deeper meaning: “Zikaron BaSalon gives us hope and shows us how we can get up again after the most destabilizing metaphysical event in human history. These people rose and started families and established a country. We can absorb those values and they give us hope now.”

Altschuler encouraged people around the world to host their own events, noting that the Zikaron BaSalon has resources in many languages and volunteers around the world who can provide kits to prospective hosts. 

“You can do one with your family, or you can do something big — just do it. Just decide to take this responsibility to host, to tell the story … so it’s like a tradition, like a Seder, that our children will grow up with,” she said. 

“The most amazing thing is this doesn’t belong to anyone. My name isn’t on the website,” Altschuler said. “It’s a social movement of individual people who decided to take responsibility for remembering the Holocaust and did it in their own way.”