Benjamin’s Back : Jewish Center Shooting Victim, 5, Home After 6 Weeks in Hospital

Six weeks, two bullet wounds and a firetruck ride later, 5-year-old Benjamin Kadish, the most seriously injured victim of last month’s Jewish Community Center shooting, was brought home Thursday in the arms of the firefighters who helped save his life.

Shot through the leg and stomach during an attack allegedly inspired by hate, Ben had lost so much blood that he nearly died Aug. 10 at the North Valley Jewish Community Center in Granada Hills. “Don’t die on me, come on, don’t die,” a paramedic urged the little boy as he lay bleeding on the floor.

But on Thursday, Ben was full of life, the boy of the moment, soaking up almost as much attention as an astronaut returning from space. Topped with a fireman’s helmet (he got a real one after firefighters realized he was disappointed with a plastic imitation) and outfitted in a crisp “L.A. FIRE” T-shirt, he waved to a dozen news cameras as he pulled away in the front seat of a fire engine.

Riding home in a big red firetruck, a treat from the Los Angeles Fire Department, was something Ben had always dreamed about.

The day was also a long-awaited dream for Ben’s parents, who spoke publicly for the first time since the shooting. With the worst behind them--the bullets out, the life-support system no longer necessary and their son’s injuries fast healing thanks to the resilience of youth, Charles and Eleanor Kadish choked up with relief when asked how it felt for their boy to come home.

“It’s overwhelming,” Charles Kadish told the crowd of reporters and well-wishers who had gathered to witness Ben’s release from Kaiser Permanente hospital in Woodland Hills. “To take someone from where he was to where he is today--it’s a miracle. It means everything to us just to see him healthy.”

Ben is expected to fully recover in six months with no permanent damage, said David Mesna, an orthopedic surgeon at the hospital. He will stay in a wheelchair several weeks and needs a colostomy bag until his stomach wounds fully heal. He’s expected to return to Pomelo Drive Elementary School in West Hills later this fall for first grade.

Ben was shot along with four others during a day camp session at the North Valley Jewish center. The other victims--a 68-year-old receptionist, a 16-year-old camp counselor and two 6-year-old boys--have since been released from area hospitals and gone home.

Authorities have charged Buford O. Furrow, an avowed racist and anti-Semite from Olympia, Wash., with the attack. Furrow confessed to the shootings, authorities said, bragging he did it “as a wake-up call for Americans to kill Jews.” Furrow also admitted to killing Filipino-American mailman Joseph Ileto in Chatsworth the same day, authorities said.

Furrow, 37, has pleaded not guilty to federal murder and gun charges. The county district attorney’s office has also filed attempted murder charges, but Furrow hasn’t been to court on those yet.

Furrow’s name came up only once at the hospital news conference Thursday. A reporter asked Ben’s parents what they felt about him. Charles Kadish shook his head and said he didn’t want to talk about it.

The Kadishes had avoided the media until Thursday. With a crush of TV cameras around them and reporters scribbling down their every word, they limited their remarks to a few thank-yous and words of gratitude about their son’s recovery.

“After something like this,” Charles Kadish said, “You just appreciate every minute you have with your children.”

Ben, a stocky boy with a shy smile, didn’t say anything as he sat next to the podium in his wheelchair. The event was arranged by the Fire Department as a way to do something special for Ben’s release and bring closure to the shooting incident, officials said.

After the press questions ended, it was time for Ben’s ride.

Some of the same paramedics who helped speed Ben to the hospital hoisted him out of his wheelchair into the shotgun seat of the fire engine. As camera shutters clicked away, Ben waved and smiled from beneath his oversized helmet. When a reporter asked him if he wanted to drive, Ben smiled back and nodded.

The cavalcade of emergency vehicles pulled out of the hospital, made its way to West Hills and chugged up a small incline. The Kadish family’s cul-de-sac was lined with balloons and neighbors.

Paramedics lifted Ben out of the truck. Then they carried him in their arms across the sidewalk with its crushed leaves, through the front door and into the house he left one sunny morning when the world was all about summer camp and kickball, not doctors and bullets.