From Coma to Clinical Psychology: The Miraculous Recovery of Yakov Barmatz
Dr. Yakov Barmatz survived a catastrophic paratrooper injury in 1980, waking from a coma to become a renowned clinical psychologist treating trauma victims and soldiers.

On October 27, 1980, Yakov Barmatz, a young and energetic paratrooper officer, went out for a routine training session in the desert. In a split second, a severe and unusual head injury completely altered the course of his life. A bone fractured below his eye socket and penetrated his brain, severe edema spread rapidly, and he collapsed unconscious.
An emergency helicopter evacuated him to Hadassah Ein Kerem Hospital. The senior doctors examining his critical medical vitals left no room for hope, presenting his family with the harshest and most direct news: "He is finished, say goodbye to him."
The Battle Between Statistics and Faith
Yet Yakov's mother refused to give up. On her way to the hospital, she called the "Netiv Meir" yeshiva in Jerusalem and asked the dean to send his younger brother, who studied there, along with a friend to the hospital to begin reciting Psalms. Thus began a dramatic encounter between the cold statistical predictions of medicine and the power of prayer. Three expert neurologists pronounced him gone, facing 400 yeshiva students who mobilized to chant Psalms. The victor sits before us today—sharp, lucid, and full of insights.
"I was sure I was speaking," Barmatz recalls. "I tried to figure out where I was—one moment I was in the desert in paratrooper boots, and the next moment I was in blue pajamas in a white bed. I was sure words were coming out of my mouth, but in reality, no sound came out. When I mentally said 'turn right,' I saw them turning left."
For long months, Yakov lay in the hospital paralyzed on his left side and classified as being in a coma. Outwardly, the public and medical staff saw an unconscious person unresponsive to his surroundings. But his mind was fully awake and active. This unimaginable experience offers a rare glimpse into the world of a person trapped inside their own body. Within the forced silence, he tried to decipher reality, explaining to himself that he had simply fallen asleep and was now experiencing an extra-long dream.
The Awakening and the Long Road to Recovery
The emotional turning point came months later at Hadassah Mount Scopus Hospital. His bed was turned toward the window overlooking the Judean Desert landscape and the sunrise over the Dead Sea. In a single moment of clarity, the machine came back to life. Yakov opened his eyes, turned to his aunt who was by his side, and said in a clear voice: "Good morning, Yael." Immediately afterward, he demanded a phone and called his girlfriend, who instantly understood across the line that a miracle had occurred. The road to physical rehabilitation through a wheelchair and a walker at the Loewenstein Hospital was still long, but consciousness had returned to the world.
Today, Dr. Yakov Barmatz is an esteemed clinical psychologist and the author of the book "The Voice of Silences," who has chosen to dedicate his professional life to treating head injury victims, post-trauma sufferers, and soldiers wounded in Israel's military campaigns. The fact that he experienced the injury, muteness, and rehabilitation provides him with a deep human connection that no theoretical study can ever supply.
Understanding the Complexity of the Human Mind
Drawing on his personal and academic experience, Dr. Barmatz addresses the wondrous complexity of the human brain. He explains how injuries to the frontal lobe—responsible for control, inhibition, and judgment—can completely alter a person's behavior, even when they appear completely functional and healthy on the outside.
Looking broadly at his experiences and Israeli society, he delivers a poignant message to us all: "Do not judge a person until you reach their place, and make sure you are not in their place." According to him, we all deal with various limitations and difficulties in life, some visible and some hidden. This understanding should soften judgment, halt quick criticism, and teach us to listen, especially to the voices and silences unfolding within the soul of the person standing before us.




