Officials said shortly after the earthquakes that at least 80 percent of all buildings in Antakya would need to be demolished. Across Turkey, more than 50,000 people have died and more than 1.5 million people have been displaced.
The destruction on Saray Street is a fraction of all that was lost in Old City. It was Antakya’s anchor — bringing residents together for dining, shopping, gathering and praying.
Video clip of Saray Street before the quakes, showing stores and patrons during the holiday season.
Alper Sener
Narrow streets like Saray had cul-de-sacs with some of the area’s finest restaurants serving local cuisines and desserts, like knafeh, a sweet cheese pastry. It was “the gastronomy market of Antakya,” said Ms. Yuksel, who co-owned Barudi Cafe.
Not far from Saray, Kurtulus Street is another commercial hub that was destroyed by the earthquakes. Stretching a mile, it had several shops, restaurants and hotels.
Beyond its shops and restaurants, Old City had some of the most important and oldest religious and cultural institutions. Among the places that are now gone and may never be restored are: the Antakya Protestant Church; the Greek Orthodox Church of Antioch; Antakya Synagogue; and Habibi Neccar Mosque, which is one of the first mosques in the Anatolia region, an area that spans most of Turkey.
Map showing the boundaries of Old City and labeling cultural landmarks that were damaged or destroyed. Institutions like the Greek Orthodox Church of Antioch, Antakya Synagogue and Habibi Neccar Mosque are labeled.
Former
Parliament
of Hatay
Greek Orthodox
Church of Antioch
Antakya
Protestant
Church
Former
Parliament
of Hatay
Greek Orthodox
Church of Antioch
Antakya
Protestant
Church
Former
Parliament
of Hatay
Greek Orthodox
Church of Antioch
Antakya
Protestant
Church
Former
Parliament
of Hatay
Greek Orthodox
Church of Antioch
Antakya
Protestant
Church
Scott Reinhard
Many residents and business owners had taken great pride in Old City’s multicultural alliances and embrace of various cultures.
“Here, there’s a church, there’s a mosque, and there’s a synagogue,” said Ozgur Akseven, 34, who owned Eva Lounge Cafe, a restaurant with live music near Saray Street. “In the community, we are Armenian, we are Christian, we are Muslim, we are Jewish. We are human all together.”
When the church bell rang, Mr. Akseven said, his lounge would stop the music, and everyone would stop drinking for about 45 minutes to show respect.
Mr. Akseven, who had returned to retrieve his scooter from the rubble in late February, spoke of his family’s connection to the neighborhood. “Even my father’s father has some memories in here. This is real history,” he said, adding that “the identity of Antakya was erased” with the earthquakes.
For Dr. Eraslan, Old City was an important place she visited often with her family. “It was good before,” she said, “but we didn’t understand before we lost our city, how important it was to us.”
But Antakya, formerly called Antioch, is no stranger to disaster. Since its birth, it has rebuilt itself over and over, emerging resilient every time.
“The community always came back stronger from each disaster,” said Andrea U. De Giorgi, an author of “Antioch: A History,” and a professor of classical studies at Florida State University.
Rebuilding and restoring all that was lost in Old City may take many years.
“We have a long road ahead of us,” said Deniz Ozturk, a restoration expert and volunteer working on the ground in Antakya.
For now, what was once a vibrant part of the Old City remains desolate, and sits eerily empty.
Video footage from a drone flying begins with a tight shot of the damage to the Shahut Hotel and zooms out to reveal the scale of destruction on Saray Street and Old City.