Nimrod was born on 23.10.1977 to Hezi and Iris Segev. He was the fourth generation of the family in Rosh pinna. Nimrod went to the Wilkomitz elementary school and graduated from the Everet Ort high school in Hazor Haglilit.
Nimrod joined the IDF on the last day of march 1996 and served in the armored division. After his release he went to the Hi-Tech College in Hertzelia and was authorized as a computer programmer for the “Microsoft” cooperation, where he held a senior role until his last day.
Nimrod’s charm, wisdom and sensitivity left a mark on anyone he ever came in contact with. Although being part of the hi-tech industry, he always favored the simple way of life he was brought up in, and maintained a strong connection to his surroundings and to his childhood’s scenery.
Nimrod married Iris, and on 5.10.2003 she gave birth to their son, Omer.
When the second Lebanon war started, Nimrod was called back to service as part of the reserves forces. He went into Lebanon as a tank crew member. On 9.8.2006 his tank was securing a convoy of tractors, paving a new road around a local village. The tank hit a demolition charge and then with an anti-tanks missile. The explosion of the rocket ignited the ammunition stored in the tank and Nimrod was killed along with the rest of his crew. He was 28 years old.
He was buried in the military cemetery in Rosh-Pinna leaving behind his wife, son, parents and his younger brother Ehud. He was granted an honorary rank by the military.
His tomb was engraved with his own words, taken from a song called “drafted” he wrote only 4 days prior to his death: “In the end we fight, like beasts\ To live, for inner peace”.
His widow, Iris, wrote: “They always say that those who have been killed were “The Best”. My Nimrod was really the best. He was killed on Valentine’s Day, and I was left behind with love that will never fade away. On the 21st of May I came to a birthday party at one of my daughter’s friend’s house. There was a magician there, who caught everyone’s attention, but I was captured by the man who accompanied him. From the moment I arrived we could not stop looking at each other, like in a romantic movie. At some point I approached him and asked if he was the magician’s helper. He replied that he was his brother, and that the grand magician needed him to drive him there. He gave me his card and said “Call me. You won’t regret it”. That was Nimrod, my Nimrodi! I, who went through a painful marriage and divorce, took my time before calling although I could not stop thinking about him. He, on the other hand, refused to back down and asked the birthday girl’s mother to hurry me up… and eventually, I did. It was as if a stronger force was connecting us. From the first phone call I knew that we were meant to be together. I felt as if god himself sent Nimrod into my life to make it up for me. He was my world, the love of my life. Two years later we got married and brought Omer, our son, into this world. Every minute of every hour of every day with Nimrod were an unimaginable joy, and I am not exaggerating. It really was. We lived our lives as if we knew we were living on borrowed time, like there was no tomorrow. The fact that Nimrod was 8 years younger than me never made any difference. If anything, I always felt as if apart from a loving husband and my true friend, he was also the father I never had.
Nimrod insisted on going to war though I begged him not to. On the day of the draft there was a shortage of drinking water and Hezi, his father, came to the base and brought bottles of water. Nimrod, typically, passed the water around to everyone else, and was eventually dehydrated and needed hospital care. Despite that, he would not give up on joining the troops. The night before he was killed he surprised me at home. I was dancing with joy when he arrived. We had dinner and in the morning, before he left, we went out for breakfast. We always loved to talk and chat endlessly, but this time we just held hands and sat quietly. When it was time to say goodbye, we hugged and kissed for a long time, and I started crying. Nimrod smiled and said: ‘Hey little one, it’s just a spot of bother…’ A few hours later, when he didn’t call, I called him and he said he couldn’t talk. I sent him a text message saying ‘love you’ and he sent me one back saying ‘love you more’. The next day, in the afternoon, I felt a horrible pain in my chest. I couldn’t find relief. I went out to the street and shouted ‘my husband is in Lebanon, and something is wrong’ …that night, on Valentine Day, the festival of love, the army officials came knocking on my door.”
His aunt, Dorit, wrote: ”Nimrod, my sister’s son, is dead. Handsome, talented, full of charm and full of love. I see the many people who came here to share our love for you and our pain, and I want to tell them about you, to let them know who you are. And for that, they must know the people who meant the world to you, and you meant the world to them. Your mother, my sister Iris, such a special woman; smart, sensitive, brave. She raised you and Ehud to be free and independent. Since the day you were born, she honored your will and opinions and taught you to value yourselves and to be true to who you are. She inspired you to grow into the wonderful man you are. And Hezi, your father; a man who is all made of love and caring. His body and soul both tied to his sons, and still he has so much to share with others. From an early age you knew that your family was more than just two parents and two sons. There was always another man, or another boy, lost and lonely, that Hezi brought into your home and into your hearts. And Ehud, your brother, your other half. An artist and a creator. Full of vision and initiative, and just as charming as you. A brother who is tied to you in bonds of love and admiration. Your friendship only underlines your blood ties. And Iris, your wife, who you knew was the one since you first met. And we fell in love with her since the first time we met her. Delicate and wise, mature and honest. Your love was so great, it wrapped your little family and illuminated everyone around you with joy. And Vicky, Iris’s daughter, who taught you how to be a father before your son was born. She felt, with her young instincts, that she could hang on to you, and you filled her with all the love and confidence you had. And Omer, your baby boy, who took your love and giving to even higher peaks. The sweet clever baby who is sentenced to remind us of you, of your absence, from this day onward. And there was still room in your giant heart for your extended family, for your grandparents, Aviva and Dov and their family, and grandma Hani, and all the friends and acquaintances and students. Anyone you ever met, received a gift of love. They were all your world and you were theirs. And we all cling to you and try to tighten our grip as much as we can. Because from this day on we are bereaved. We must learn how to live with bereavement, and we do not know how. We do not know.”
Ehud Segev, Nimrods brother, who is known world wide as a “Mentalist”, received the news of his brother’s death while on tour in Mexico. During the long flight hours back to the funeral, he came up with the idea of the world freedom organization. These were his words in his brother’s funeral:
“During my travels around the world, I have preformed to IDF soldiers, south Lebanon soldiers, UN representatives, American troops, Irish, Italians NATO forces and crowds of all colors and religions. I am a magician. I entertain and inspire. I cause laughter and awe. I make things disappear and then reappear. But right now I am lost. I have no magic words or magic wand to bring me back my brother, Nimrod.
I have seen famine in India, the hatred in Kosovo, the remains of the war in Sarajevo. I can not forget the pain following 11.9, and how we tried to wash away the pain with tears.
But I can not escape my pain today. It is an infinite pain that will never go away. I know that no amount of prayer, any number of territories being returned, not even all the money in the world will bring back the only brother I ever had, my other half, the closest person to me in the world.
I try and think what my brother, whose remains are in this coffin, would say to me now, I suppose he would just smile and say “Ehud, use what you are going through to do good for yourself and to others”. So there, for you Nimrod, my dearest brother, I will endure this pain and gain strength from it, and I will use this strength to do something practical for others.
During his life, Nimrod was like a quiet flame that guided me, my wise older brother. In his death, Nimrod passed that torch of good and freedom to me and it burns inside me today more than ever. Today I embark on a voyage, and I have no intention to do this by myself.
I turn to all the people who can hear me now, whether it is in Israel, Lebanon or anywhere else in the world.
My wish today is to deny you of the pain I suffer, the pain of looking into this coffin knowing that what remains of the person you loved most is lying in it. The remains of shattered dreams.
But I can’t!
Why? Because only you can. Each and every one of you can, and is responsible for the freedom of us all, and our future generations. In Israel, Iraq, Lebanon and anywhere that darkness reigns and freedom is nowhere to be found.
Yes we can. Not only that we can, we are the only ones who really can. Tell me, is there anything more valuable than life? Now is the time to realize that human life is worth more than money, religion or territorial dispute. We need one thing right now-ourselves!! Wherever we are!
The torch I carry is heavy, and the road is long. Help me share the burden. Today I started a world coalition to act for freedom anywhere on the planet.
For this I started a website located in www.freefreedom.org. Log in today and pass the message on.
No matter where you are, pick up the torch and join the race to fulfill my brother’s last wish and all those brave souls who were victims in the war for freedom. Their only wish was, that will be the last casualties of the war.”