Violent Attack on Jewish Children in Suburban Chicago

On a bright Sukkot afternoon in suburban Chicago, a group of Jewish children out for a carefree day in the park found themselves the targets of a violent antisemitic assault. What began as innocent play turned into a terrifying ordeal that has shaken the tight-knit community of Skokie—and raised urgent questions about the safety of Jews in America today.

It was a beautiful afternoon on Tuesday, October 7, 2025, the first day of Sukkot, when Robyn Ackerman’s 13-year-old daughter was playing with friends in a park in Skokie, Illinois.

“They were wearing princessy-looking Shabbos dresses,” Robyn recalls. Her daughter and three other 13-year-old girls had gone to play in the park after lunch, joined by a 12-year-old boy they knew from a local Jewish youth group. The boy wore a kippah; all five children were identifiably Jewish. In Skokie, a community with a large Jewish population, many Jews were out that sunny holiday afternoon.

The Skokie park where the attack occurred.

Nearby, over 20 boys aged 12–15 were playing basketball. When Robyn’s daughter asked to take a turn shooting a basket, one of the boys asked if they were Jewish. When the young boy replied yes, the larger group exploded in rage.

“They said, ‘F*&k Israel,’ ‘You killed our babies,’ ‘You’re baby killers,’ ‘We’re going to kill you,’” Robyn recalls. The teens then pulled out Orbeez toy guns—gel pellet blasters—and began chasing and threatening the Jewish children. Some covered their faces with masks as they ran. One boy fired at Robyn’s daughter, hitting her twice in the leg and leaving bruises.

The attackers shouted that their “friend” was coming with “the big gun” and was “going to kill you guys.” To their horror, an adult soon arrived—a man with a full beard—appearing to join the mob. The children were petrified.

The 12-year-old Jewish boy threatened to call the police, which caused the attackers to back off. By then, one of the girls had reached the Ackermans’ home, and Robyn and her husband rushed to the scene. Her husband saw the group standing around, some masked, and heard one of them sneer, “Oh, it’s one of the Jew-girl’s parents.” He also noticed the bearded adult among them. Police arrived quickly, warning the Ackermans not to engage with the attackers.

Bringing Up “Islamophobia”

Skokie police visited each home, questioning the children about what happened. Initially, the parents felt the investigation was being handled seriously—but soon troubling signs emerged.

One involved the bearded adult, reportedly related to one of the attackers. Police said they asked him if he had a gun; he said no, and they accepted his answer without a search. “I asked if they requested a consent search,” one parent recalled. “That didn’t happen.” Parents now wonder whether their children narrowly escaped something far worse.

Later, police emailed parents mentioning an unrelated claim—that earlier in the day, an adult had made Islamophobic remarks in the park. “It seemed to minimize what happened,” one parent said. “These were completely separate incidents.”

“Should anything have escalated to the point where a child shot a pellet gun? Absolutely not,” says Alison Pure Slovin, a Skokie resident and elected Trustee.  Alison spoke with Aish.com in her capacity as Midwest Director of the Simon Wiesenthal Center, a group founded by Nazi hunter Simon Wiesenthal to combat hatred. “Even if someone shouted Islamophobic hate, that’s no excuse for kids to attack Jewish children.” Slovin has been working with local organizations and politicians to focus attention on the attack.

Ignoring Witnesses

The child who shot Robyn’s daughter was issued a citation. “That’s great,” Robyn said. “But what about the other 20 kids who chased and screamed at them?” Police said nothing more could be done. Shockingly, officers said that two adult witnesses were deemed “biased” against the attackers and therefore dismissed as unreliable.

Parents were stunned. “Surely a jury decides whether witnesses are credible,” one said. The parents wonder if the witnesses are Jews and therefore considered “biased” against the attacking mob.

Refusing to Call It a Hate Crime—Then Changing Course

Two weeks later, the Village of Skokie released its first public statement, describing the event merely as “an incident involving a group of local youth.” The report portrayed both groups as “of a similar age” (though the attackers included older children) and framed the Jewish children as having “approached” the others. It used passive phrasing—“antisemitic language was used,” “gel pellets were discharged”—and announced the investigation “completed” and “closed.”

The families, who had remained silent while police investigated, were appalled. They are now speaking out. Robyn posted publicly:

This was not ‘kids being kids.’  This was a targeted, violent antisemitic attack on Jewish minors - in their synagogue dresses on a Jewish holiday.  The fact that it happened on October 7th - exactly two years after the October 7, 2023 massacre of Jews in Israel - makes it even more chilling….

….The reality is that our children can no longer walk outside on a Jewish holiday without fear of being hunted, threatened, and terrorized for being Jewish is unacceptable.  Ignoring this is not an option.  We need to come together as a community to demand change, to hold perpetrators accountable, and to make sure our kids can grow up safe in the town we love.

Slovin contacted the Cook County State’s Attorney’s Office to request a formal hate crime investigation. “It should be called an incident of bias or hate,” she said. Many in the Jewish community shared her concern that authorities were downplaying the event.

On Friday, October 24, after inquiries from journalists and community leaders, the Skokie Police issued a new statement:

“Due to the antisemitic statements demonstrating bias as a likely motivator in the battery involving the gel blaster, the Department has classified this incident as a hate crime.”

“No One Has Reached Out”

The Jewish children never mentioned the race or religion of their attackers. “That’s not how we’ve raised our kids,” says Robyn. “If my child had assaulted someone, I’d have dragged them to apologize and enrolled them in anger management. I’d be mortified.” Yet no parent of the 20 attackers has reached out or apologized.

Never Again

In 1977, the American Nazi Party announced plans to march in Skokie. The Village initially allowed it, but the Jewish community—then home to one of the world’s largest communities of Holocaust survivors—fought back. Though the Supreme Court upheld the Nazis’ right to march, the demonstration never happened.

Today, Skokie faces another test: how to confront anti-Jewish hatred in its midst. Antisemitic crimes are at record highs worldwide, and silence is complicity.

I live in Skokie, and I’m terrified. Antisemitism seems to be an ever-present threat here. Two fathers of my son’s classmates have been shot in antisemitic attacks—one by a neo-Nazi decades ago, another by an Islamist last year. Many of my friends talk about leaving for Israel. Yet we resent feeling pushed out of our home.

Around here, many lawns display signs proclaiming, “Hate has no home here.” But too often, it feels like Jews are excluded from that promise. When Jewish children are attacked, empathy is muted. When we live in fear, our pain seems negotiable. Hate does have a home here—and that must change.

The families of the children who were attacked are continuing to work with local organizations and authorities to seek justice. Jews have the right to live without fear. It’s time the world remembered that.