PERSONAL IMPRESSIONS

When I attended Hebrew School with my sister in 1933, we were the only girls in the Hebrew School. We studied History, Bible and Yiddish reading and writing. We belonged to the synagogue from 1921 to 1947.

I remember that the Reiner family (Carl Reiner the actor and producer) lived across from the synagogue.

During the Holy Days a guard and a policeman were stationed at the door. No one could enter without a ticket. Children never needed a ticket.

My father paid $2.00 a week for my sister and me to attend Hebrew School. During the Depression, the synagogue could not afford to buy coal to heat the building. We sat with our coats on in class.

Mr. Abraham Koch was the head of the Executive Board of the synagogue. He was one of a few men who kept the synagogue going during the Depression.

I attended cheder at the synagogue until my Bar Mitzvah in 1934. The synagogue was Orthodox.

My family belonged to Teres Moshe at Prospect Avenue before it moved to Avenue St. John. My father was active in the relocation. I used to count the stars on the dome as I played on my father's tallis fringes. When the undercurrent of noise became too loud the shamus, Mr. Halberstab, would bang a book and Shah the congregation.

The following are excerpts from a letter that was sent by the president of the synagogue to Jewish storekeepers in the neighborhood on April 28,1970:

THE ONE AND ONLY SYNAGOGUE IN THE SOUTH BRONX

Dear Friend and Neighbor,
Out of 25 synagogues in the South Bronx, there is only one still in existence. The Machzikei T.T. Torah Moses, at the above address, where one will find daily morning and evening services.

It is kept up by the burning faith and strong will power of a few determined souls, who feel the necessity of keeping the one and only synagogue going, for the benefit of a few old people who did not have the means of moving away and this is their only lifeline.

WE APPEAL TO THOSE OF YOU WHO WORK OR HAVE BUSINESSES IN THE AREA. WE NEED YOUR FINANCIAL HELP IN THE MAINTENANCE OF THIS MUCH NEEDED SYNAGOGUE.

My parents, my brother and I came to live in the Bronx in 1943 from Montreal, Canada. My brother had his Bar Mitzvah there in 1945.

The congregation was Orthodox. The women sat upstairs and the men sat downstairs.

My mother took me to services on the Holidays. The synagogue had no air conditioning. It was hot and stifling. I never really wanted to go with her. When she passed away, I never returned for services.

During the holidays, the children played outside and ran up and down the stairs. Old men kept yelling, Shah, shah.

The choir had men only. There were mostly fathers and sons in the choir.

They spoke only Yiddish in Hebrew school.

Everyone walked to the synagogue on the holidays. There were few cars and everyone lived in the neighborhood.

Both my brother and I were Bar Mitzvahed at the Beekman Avenue synagogue.

The Beekman Avenue Shul was an orthodox one. Upon entering the building, one had to walk up three steps into a lobby that led onto the first floor stebel, where only the orthodox dovened. It had a mechitza separating the women from the men. The torah and the prayed books were read by the very learned, as the rabbi performed elsewhere, but there was a gobbi always in attendance. As a child, I remember that the speeches and appeals were always in Yiddish.

On the second floor, however, was a more important looking shul. There were beautiful stained glass windows, with an ark held up by two gold lions on either side. Here, the rabbi dovened with a much larger congregation. The men seemed more affluent and more committed to appeals. On the Jewish holidays, the chazan chanted, and the service was enjoyable. Looking upward, toward the ceiling, you could see the balcony. The balcony was for the women who came to pray or just socialize. Some women were able to follow the services.

This upper level also served for ufrufs and bar mitzvahs. A baby naming was also part of the service. It was from the balcony that the ladies threw bags of candies, nuts and raisins after the torah was read to celebrate a happy occasion.

Torah and Hebrew were taught to the young boys in the Hebrew School four days a week after school and Sunday mornings. I don't recall any girls ever attending.

Believe it or not, I've really enjoyed remembering the past and the shul around the corner on Beekman Street.

The man who helped with the yearly festivals and plays worked in the costume department of the Metropolitan Opera Company. He made all the costumes. The costumes for the Maccabees were the finest you could find outside the Metropolitan Opera.

When the rabbi moved to Israel, he wanted me to study with him. I was a high school student at the time.

There was a large room that was used for social activities. Lekach and bromfin were served to celebrate simchas. My mother catered a large reception following my Bar Mitzvah.

My father's seat was in the third or fourth row, on the aisle on the right side as you entered. My mother always sat on the opposite side upstairs, so we could always see each other.

There was a downstairs section, a Beth Hamedrash, which was always populated by older, more Orthodox congregants which was used during the holidays as an alternate congregation. The women's section was curtained off from the men's by a sheet, and there were certainly more wigs among the women downstairs.

I have a strong memory of my cheder teacher, Rabbi Eugene Perkins. I have often wondered what happened to him. Whatever modern Hebrew I knew, I learned from him. I remember he was able to get passes for us to ball games now and then. He once took us to the Globe Theater in Times Square to see Mr. Emanuel, a film about a teacher trying to save Jewish kids from the Nazis.

My grandmother regularly attended services at the synagogue across from her apartment building on Bryant Avenue. My grandmother persuaded me to go by informing me that there was to be a Bar Mitzvah and bags of candy would be thrown from the women's gallery.

Around 1929 (when I was 13 years of age) I attended the Bryant Avenue shul for about 4 years. The name of the principal was Mr. Abrahamson. His daughter was an excellent teacher. Mr. Grossman and Mr. Schumugger were two teachers who drummed the passages of the siddur into my head which I remember to this day. My parents paid $3.00 per month for this education.

We had our own children's service every Saturday conducted by the children. At the close of services a lady would pass out a small bag of candy to all the children who came to service.

The shul had an upper floor for women and a lower floor for men. You had to walk up 3 steps to the massive doors and then 7 or 8 long marble steps to enter the doors into the shul itself.

My father was the rabbi of the congregation from 1951 to 1983. The congregation relocated to 2222 Cruger Avenue in the 1960s because the neighborhood was changing. The old building was left intact and not sold as a church (which my dad desperately did not want). Many years later, the second owners did resell it and eventually it did become a church.

Rabbi Paretsky was a young refugee, unmarried, with not too god a command of English when he was hired by the Young Israel. However, within a few years he had earned a law degree, married and established himself. The Y.I. was the hub of our social life with Friday night guest speakers, Saturday night melava malkes, organizational meetings, weddings, bar mitzvahs, etc.

I was bar mitzvahed at the Young Israel. The rabbi was A. Peretsky, who was a good rabbi, gave some thought provoking sermons and was liked by the congregation. The president was a Mr.Block. who was well respected. On my bar mitzvah day I remember playing a football game with my bar mitzvah pants on. I almost tore my pants. Lucky for me. For had I, I wouldn't be able to write this to you.

I attended Hebrew school in a very vital synagogue called Kehilath Israel. For many years the synagogue was located at Jackson Avenue and Boston Road. The senior rabbi was Dr. Elias Solomon and Rabbi Louis Finkelstein was his associate. When the synagogue moved, Dr. Louis Finkelstein was the rabbi. He was a distinguished rabbi who later became president of the Jewish Theological Seminary in Manhattan. His sermons were outstanding. I have fond memories of the old and new Kehilath Israel. My Bar Mitzvah took place in the old and my sister was married in the new.

The first shul I remember was Kehilath Israel on Jackson Avenue...I attended Hebrew school for one year sometime before 1926. That year the congregation moved to Crotona Park East. In December, 1926, my sister was married in the new quarters with Rabbi Finkelstein officiating.

My son was Bar Mitzvahed at K.I. A man came to the house to give my son Bar Mitzvah lessons. It was an Orthodox synagogue. Women sat upstairs only.

Dead bodies were brought into the synagogue. The rabbi said the eulogy and the prayers.

There was a separate youth group at K.I. There were separate services and we were a social group as well.

On the high holidays, many young people stood outside in the late morning. Teenagers walked from synagogue to synagogue in the area. We would say, 'We're walking to the next shul. Do you want to come along?'

At one time, the president was Isaac Polack who was born in Rochester, England in 1861.

I remember the High Holy Days and the streets crowded with families on their way to the synagogue, wearing their new Rosh Hashonah outfits. On Simchas Torah, the children ran up and down the steps of the synagogue waving their flags. Funny, as I look back, everyone seemed to be smiling.

I remember an old man who wore a high hat and a formal cutaway jacket every Saturday.

At K.I., the president of the shul wore a top hat on Shabbos and spoke with a British accent.

Normally, I was relegated to the balcony with my bubba and other females. On Eres Simchot Torah, I was allowed to stay with my father and brother on the main floor and enjoy the parade of paper flags, topped with apples and candles.

I was married in K.I. We had the reception downstairs. The caterer forgot to serve the coffee.

I can still smell the wonderful aromas and recall the excitement, the shopping for new clothes around holiday seasons. I've just accepted the fact that them days are gone forever. Our kids and grandchildren have been deprived of something far more precious than what we have materially given them.

The Hebrew School took the students to see a professional baseball game at Yankee Stadium. First, the visiting team batted, and next the home team came to bat. After the home team was out, the visiting team came to bat again. The rabbi (who was the principal of the school, and who was not born in the United States) got up and told the students that it was time to leave, we saw this one already. The students patiently explained to him that the only thing that had ended was the first inning. And the next eight innings were not intended to be a duplicate of the first inning. The rabbi graciously took our word for it and we stayed to see the whole ballgame.

Rabbi Schachter was very religious. He made the shul build a divider to separate the men and the women. It wasn't high enough for him. He thought we saw the men.

Rabbi Gross wore a toupe because he was a school teacher and as a rabbi had to keep his head covered. He didn't want the children to laugh if they saw him with a yarmalka.

I belonged to the sisterhood and at one meeting we had Bess Meyerson as our guest. We paid her $25.00 and her husband called for her at 10:00 P.M.

B'nai Jeshurun on 165th Street began in a vacant supermarket and gradually expanded into other store fronts. David Hollander was the second full-time rabbi. I don't recall the name of the first rabbi, but I do remember him standing at his lectern for the entire day of Yom Kippur.

I once attended an affair at the Sephardic Jewish Center. The older people, mostly from Greece and Turkey, spoke an archaic Spanish called Ladino and to my surprise I could converse with them in modern Spanish which I knew very well.

I remember the choir sneaking out and going to lunch on Yom Kippur.

The rabbi was Rabbi Murciano when I attended. He's now in Forest Hills.

I once went to a funeral in an Orthodox synagogue. Someone told me,Don't bring flowers.

We named our children after living relatives while the Orthodox named their children after dead ones. When I married an Ashkenazi Jew, I went with his tradition and named our children after dead people.

Edie Gorme's mother was a member of the Sephardic Temple. Edie Gorme entertained us at a luncheon.

The first rabbi was Rabbi Cardoza.

Halfway down the hill on 169th Street was a small shul. I quizzed my father about the shul and why we never attended services there. He replied that they were strange people. Only after I became an adult did I realize that the strange people were Sephardic Jews.

Our family were members of the Sephardic Temple on 169th Street. In fact, the original rabbi - Rabbi Marciano - is still practicing with the Sephardic Temple in Forest Hills.

Possibly, the most vivid memory is of the high holy days. How, as kids, we could not wait to get out of temple in order to walk down to Joyce Kilmer Park on 161st Street to socialize with our friends. On a sunny holiday there would be a thousand kids in the park, all wearing their best clothes.

Another memory is of passing the 167th Street Cafeteria on the holidays and seeing it packed with Jewish people who were taking a break from temple.

The Sephardic Jewish Center was an Orthodox synagogue, associated with the Union of Orthodox Congregations. The synagogue had 1,000 members, mostly of Greek and Turkish origin. The congregants ranged in their ritual observance and the synagogue tolerated and respected the entire spectrum of personal practice. The congregation permitted the use of microphones turned on before the Sabbath, and had separate seating for men and women but no physical mehitza or barrier between the men and women's sections.

Rabbi Murciano gave a sermon in English every Shabbat. There was also a daily minyon. On Rosh Hashona and Yom Kippur, a special balcony had to be constructed every year to accommodate an overflow crowd, in addition to concurrent services conducted in their auditorium downstairs.

The congregation now exists as the Sephardic Jewish Center of Forest Hills. Rabbi Murciano was given a 40th testimonial dinner by the congregation in 1993.

One memory was passing the 167th Street Cafeteria on the holidays and seeing it packed with Jewish people who were taking a break from temple.

We attended the Sephardic Jewish Center on East 169th from the late 1940s till my mom finally moved in the later 1970s. Prior to that, the family attended the Sephardic synagogue on Morris off of 170th. Rabbi Murciano taught me my Bar Mitzvah lessons. The last time I saw him was several years ago at my mother's funeral. As far as I know, he's still going strong as the Rabbi at the Forest Hills Sephardic synagogue on 108th Street. Our synagogue produced one of the world's greatest concert pianists - Murray Perahia. As a young child, he often played piano at various synagogue functions, showing signs of the greatness to follow. His family was very prominent in the Sephardic community.

I would like to correct one comment below the picture of our synagogue. Someone stated that "a special balcony had to be constructed every year to accommodate an overflow crowd" for Rosh Hashona and Yom Kippur. Not so. The balcony was a permanent structure and was one of two sections set aside for women, the other being on the left side of the main sanctuary. During the High Holidays, we always attended services in the auditorium sanctuary downstairs - the tickets were cheaper!

We went to that synagogue on Simchas Torah. We had candles and apples stuck on the stick of the flags. The candle was held on the top by a rubber band. We walked around the synagogue with lit candles. It never rained on Simchas Torah. Young women sat upstairs. Older women couldn't walk upstairs so they sat on the other side of a wooden partition.

My uncle was, at various times, president there. The rabbi, Chaim Welchansky, was a great talmudic scholar. I remember the big simchas when he finished going through the talmud. The rabbi was also the mashgiach at Isaac Gellis' Bronx meat plant.

The rabbi was the mashgiach for Magen David.

I went to Talmud Torah at Con Bikur Cholim on 174th Street in 3rd (maybe) and 4th (certainly) grade. In 4th grade (I had skipped 2nd grade and was therefore a year younger than normal), I was coming from an "IGC" class every afternoon that required a train ride back from Castle Hill Avenue to Whitlock Avenue on the 6 train and a walk from there to 174th Street. It seemed like a very long way for a young kid.

I lived a few blocks away on Longfellow Avenue near 172nd Street. The Rabbi had a few interesting techniques. One Shabbat morning he "took attendance" by calling out names of the students, which were on cards. If you were not there, your card was set aside. If you WERE there, your card remained - and the Rabbi's young daughter would pick one of the cards and the lucky child would get a model airplane. What I mainly remember about services was that the younger kids who were doing well were chosen to lead "Ashrie". Everyone got a candy bar on the way out. I thought he had good motivational techniques.

I was somewhat confused in class because we used Ashkenazi pronunciation, but at home I heard Sephardic, since my parents had lived in Israel, and I had memorized the Kiddush and similar prayers. It was a very traditional cheder-type place, it seemed to me then (and now). We were there an hour or two every afternoon, Monday-Thursday, plus going to shul on Shabbat.

I attended from Childhood up to 1966 and was Bar Mitzvahed there in 1963.

The doorway to the right was the entrance to the room that was used for studies (I presume for Talmud studies that the second "personal impression" mentioned). When the congregation flourished, it held a service for the high holidays - in addition to the one in the main worship area entered through the middle doors. It was also where the Hebrew School held its student-conducted Saturday services.

The door on the left opens to a stairway down to a series of rooms. One was where I attended Hebrew School; there was a second that was similarly used when the student population was larger, and perhaps as another "overflow" room for holiday services. There was a larger room past these that was used for celebrations.

I must correct the first of the personal impressions in your book. There was no "upstairs," and I think your photo agrees with me. One the right hand side (as you faced the Ark) was the women's section. There was a wooden partition, and I believe they were topped with brass rails from which white curtains were hung (although I don't think they were usually pulled).

I also remember Rabbi Welichansky - his sermons started with him speaking very softly (in Yiddish of course), but he got increasingly loud as the sermon wore on. I understood Yiddish, but I didn't understand why the Rabbi found it necessary to yell at the congregants. I recall that at some point my father agreed with my assessment that this was unnecessary, and we would step out prior to the sermon.

Mostly I remember the sense of community and the very encouraging attitudes of the congregants - they were your neighbors, local shopkeepers, your friends' parents and grandparents. This included the synagogue's officers - if I remember correctly, the president and vice-president circa 1960 were Mr. Greenberg and Mr. Adler, respectively. They were very well respected, and they treated everyone with respect.

I remember walking my grandmother to her shul. One of the founders was her brother whose last name was Wolff.

The Bronx Jewish Center was really Orthodox - women upstairs on the balcony and men downstairs. It was a large establishment with children running in and out during the services.

The rabbi was named Rabbi Charlap.

Your request brought back memories - some loving, some hurtful.

When my brother was Bar Mitzvahed, the women in the balcony threw bags of candy at him.

On the holidays I never went in the synagogue. My parents paid for tickets for my brother but no one paid for tickets for the girls.

During the holidays the teenagers were all dressed up. The girls never went in. We stood outside and picked up boys.

Enclosed is a copy of the 1946 holiday ticket for admission to services at the Bronx Jewish Center. This belonged to my father.

My father never made much money in the 1930s and paying for a ticket was considered an extravagance. My father justified the expense by saying that he never went to operas or the movies. This was his form of entertainment.

When I was four and five (1928 and 1929) my father took me to hear holiday services. I was awed by the enormous size of the synagogue and the high hat and long robes of the cantor. I heard cantor Joseph Rosenblatt and to this day I love cantorial music. Since I didn't take up too much room, I squeezed alongside my father.

When I was about seven, I was too big to share my father's seat and sit with the men. We couldn't afford two tickets so I no longer was able to go. I felt disappointed and hurt, particularly when I heard my father talk about the cantor and the music.

I lived with my grandparents. I remember going to meet my grandfather after Yom Kippur services.

My grandfather prayed twice a day in a small synagogue on 178th Street and Honeywell Avenue. But, on the High Holy days he went to the big shul (Bronx Jewish Center).

I remember sitting next to my grandmother. My brother was the chazan of the Junior Congregation.

The rabbi was Charlap and the teachers were Miss Blumenfeld, Miss Spector and Mr. Biederman. Aside from studying torah, prophets and the Hebrew language, we also celebrated every Jewish holiday with plays, pageants, masquerade balls, recitations and choral speaking. We learned Rashi and studied the torah Ivrit B'Ivrit.

There was an enormous Magen David on top of the building lit up at night by a hundred small light bulbs. This was a landmark that could be seen from quite a distance. I was able to hear Cantor Leibele Waldman davening on the High Holy Days. One year I was told that Hank Greenberg and his father came to daven for the holidays but wouldn't give any autographs. In the small Beis Medresh, a small group of young men and women formed a Young Israel and held separate services on Shabbos and yom tov with volunteer student rabbis.

By 1947 there was a social hall and an in-house caterer. Various youth groups met on Saturday afternoons and evenings. There was quite a bit of matchmaking going on. Girls were not encouraged to attend Hebrew School. I was taught by my father.

I was a student at the Bronx Jewish Center. My teachers were Mr. Biederman, Mrs. Appel and Mrs. Spector. Rabbi Chalap was a fire and brimstone rabbi. On the high holy days we students weren't allowed in the sanctuary unless we had a ticket. We had our own services upstairs. I remember our services always ending earlier on Kol Nidre night and from outside hearing Rabbi Chalap begging, imploring, cajoling his members for bigger and bigger donations. It may be improper to say but I always had the feeling that there was a small boy with an adding machine in the back room adding up the pledges. And when the good rabbi got the amount he wanted and needed, somebody told the rabbi to finish his appeal and get back to praying.

The Bronx Jewish Center architecture was traditional. Women were in a circular balcony and men were downstairs. The Rabbi's name was Charlop (His first name escapes me.). Actually, there were two congregations which makes it different. On the ground floor, the large room was turned over to the Young Israel of Tremont. We held our own services and in every way were an independent entity. Incidentally, we paid no rent which was generous of the host congregation.

Around 1932, the Young Israel Tremont Branch moved to its new quarters on Clinton Avenue. I remember a delicate situation just after we moved to our new building. It was traditional for Rabbi Charlop, on Yom Kippur, to come downstairs and give a sermon to the Young Israel Congregation. The first Yom Kippur after we moved it was touch and go whether he would continue this tradition by coming to our new quarters. His congregation did not want him to come because we were a few blocks away and, in a sense, his competitors. However, Rabbi Chalop showed strength and independence and came. I'll always remember that incident.

I attended the Talmud Torah at the Bronx Jewish Center. My years at the school had many fond memories. The academic standards we high and when we graduated from this Talmud Torah, we continued our studies at Marshaliah Hebrew High School. We entered the school at the third year of studies. Many went on to study at the Jewish Theological Seminary. (a woman's story)

We went to a small store front schul on 181st Street between Walton and Morris Avenues. I even remember the rabbi's name, but not the spelling - Rabbi Pegorelsky. We lived in the area until 1941.

I am a former North-Central Bronx boy from E.208th St & Bainbridge Av., which is directly across the street from the Sholem Alechem Schul (now occupied by some department of Montefiore Hospital). I was Bar Mitzvahed from the Moshulu Parkway Jewish Center in March, 1957. The Rabbi (whose well-known name escapes me right now) also had married my parents there in 1941. I had also attended Young Israel of Mosholu Parkway when Rabbi Zev Charlot was young and new to the cat-bird seat (we kids often made life miserable for the really nice man). I also attended with friends the teen recreation center provided by the Nathon Strauss Jewish Center on Gun Hill Rd.

There was another temple/synagogue on the corner of Kossuth Ave and E. 208th St that was the original home for the Young Israel of Mosholu Parkway congregation before they bought the 20th St & Steuben Ave corner property and replaced the private home that sat there for many years. I cannot remember what it was called, but as a Bonx Home News paperboy delivering his route, I was stopped more than once and asked if I was Jewish by some older man. And when I answered in the affirmative, was asked to make up the odd man missing for the evening prayer minion.

The building was built after the Civil War as a home for the landowner of a large estate. I believe he was an officer in the Northern Army.

This was a Reform synagogue. Organ music was played at the services.

Judge Stakel, who was once the synagogue president, and Senator Berg were members.

There was a church in the building before it became a shul.

This was a German synagogue. I spoke German until I entered kindergarten.

I remember that services were held in the Hunts Point Palace before the synagogue was dedicated.

Eighty years ago we had goats in the back yards of the houses in the neighborhood.

My mother was the treasurer of the sisterhood. I saw Whoopie when I was 5 years old. My mother and I went with the sisterhood.

I was Bar Mitzvahed at the temple. There was a weeping willow in the front yard.

The classrooms were upstairs and an attic on the top floor.

During the Depression, art lessons were given by a teacher who was funded by the W.P.A.

Rabbi Grossman owned a summer camp in 1946.

My father belonged to Temple Elohim and an Orthodox synagogue. He went to the Orthodox synagogue on Yom Kippur and to Temple Elohim the rest of the year.

My mother was active in the Sisterhood and was president of her Hadassah group which met at the temple. I recall that she and the group knitted burgundy, khaki and many woolen sweaters for the Israeli soldiers in 1948.

They did not have Bat Mitzvahs at the synagogue. When I was 15 I had lessons with 8 other girls to have a confirmation on Shevuouth.

Temple Bikur Cholim was on Faile Street between Gilbert Place and Lafayette Avenue. It was an orange-bricked building, 2 floor, with an iron staircase on the outside leading to the Junior Congregation Service upstairs.

Rabbi Gorelick was our rabbi; a Rabbi Goldman used to assist in Hebrew School. I remember that Mr. Lifshitz was our Hebrew School teacher and that a Mr. Newman was a volunteer helping us incorrigibles at the service. I was one of those incorrigibles.

I was Bar Mitzvahed at the shul on Thursday, May 3, 1934 - with no formal lessons on how to read the haftorah. The reason it was on a Thursday was that my grandfather died less than two months before. So, promptly after the First Minyan was over, at 8:00 A.M., I walked to James Monroe High School about half an hour late for class, but happy. There was no such thing as a fancy bar mitzvah at that time. Sponge cake and honey cake were the prizes that morning.

I attended Hebrew School and services at the Faile Street synagogue, where I was Bar Mitzvahed. There are many memories - all pleasant.

Children's services were held on Friday nights. Chocolate candy was distributed as you left the shul. A manager of Rockwood Candy was a member of the synagogue and contributed the candy. This was during the depression years so getting a piece of free candy was a great incentive for going to services. It certainly made for a sweet Sabbath.

After dressing for synagogue and often leading Junior Congregation, I would go home and change into play clothes. Then I could go out to play stickball.

Hebrew School inspired me to become part of the first Hebrew language class at Monroe High School in 1938. Jefferson High School was the first to teach Hebrew.

Many years ago, when I was a volunteer at the Daughters of Jacob, outsiders could go to shul there. Now, only residents are allowed to pray there.

Every Sunday they have a concert at the Home. There are Oneg Shabbats on Fridays. They have services on Rosh Hashonah and Yom Kippur as well as seders on Passover. They never charged me because I was a volunteer.

I remember visiting my parents who attended services for Rosh Hashanah at the Daughters of Jacob.

The shul was a very important part of our lives. My father would take me on all of the holidays. The children would run and play around the men downstairs. They tolerated us with good humor and would occasionally put their index fingers to their mouths so we would be quiet.

During the high holidays the men would be standing in small groups outside the synagogue but the praying would go on all day. When they returned to their seats they would ask, Vee holt men yetst? (Where is the place?)

Rabbi Titkin went from house to house collecting money for charity. He was always saying, Leben is Zeece (Life is sweet.).

After we moved from the neighborhood I was still in the area because I taught in a school several blocks away. I went to the synagogue to say Yiskor on the days that I went to work.

The program for the Twenty-second Annual Banquet given on March 2, 1947 was written in both English and Yiddish.

Rabbi Dr. Lazar Schonfeld was installed in 1925. He was the former chief rabbi in Vincovci, Yugoslavia and Nagykaroly, Hungary. He was installed in 1925 and given a life contract in 1936.

Among the memories of the Fox Street synagogue are the women throwing down brown bags of candies after Bar Mitzvahs, Chanukah dreidels, singing Adon Alum, knowing the Saturday service almost by heart and forgetting my Bar Mitzvah speech and then improvising.

Unfortunately, I remember being chased by the Puerto Rican boys as we carried our Simchas Torah flags.

My son was Bar Mitzvahed at the Fox Street synagogue. We were very poor and the only social life was to go for a walk and visit family and neighbors.

The Rabbi was Rabbi Schoenfeld who spoke German-Yiddish. It was known as the Hungarian shul.

My parents belonged to this shul for 25 years. This was a Hungarian shul. The prayer books had Hebrew written on one page and Hungarian on the opposite page (Just as we now have English written on the opposite page). The sermons were in Hungarian.

Every adult needed a ticket to attend services on the High Holy Holidays. The young girls collected the tickets that were thrown away after the last service and used them to play games.

When I said Kaddish for my father, I attended Congregation Beth David on Fox Street. The rabbi was Lazar Schoenfeld who spoke a German Yiddish. A majority of the congregants were Hungarian.

The mechetunim and future second wife of one of my musicians lived at 830 Fox Street near Intervale. From your site I learned that this was (as of 1924) directly next door to the Hungarian Synagogue at 832 Fox Street.

I grew up in Brooklyn (I'm 59 now and my only direct connection with that neighborhood was the one year (1988/89) when I taught at a public school on Kelly Street. It was an overwhelmingly Hispanic neighborhood. There were only a very few poor, elderly Jews still living around there by that time.

There was an indoor track surrounding a full-sized basketball court on the top floor. A large synagogue was on the ground floor.

The men occupied the seats on the main floor and the women sat in the gallery. There were no pews attached to the floor. The men sat on folding chairs, which, when folded away, left the floor open for dancing on Wednesday and Saturday nights for young people. I met the young man who would be my husband at a Thanksgiving Day dance at the synagogue.

When I was 7 or 8, I remember going with other little girls on certain Sundays to sit in the main hall to create an audience for the public marriages. The children were given a handful of rice as they entered to pelt the bride and groom. Young women who did not have a family or who were too poor to make a wedding were married publicly by the rabbi. All the little girls watching were awed by the bride's beautiful white dress and veil (which, in retrospect, couldn't have been opulent). When the bride and groom walked down the aisle after the ceremony, we all threw rice and went home to dream of our wedding day.

This synagogue was a large 6 story building. I don't remember an elevator. Above the main floor were classrooms and clubrooms. Bible history was taught and liberal political discussions held. Several young men's clubs held meetings on Sunday afternoons. There was a gymnasium where boys played basketball. It was a place for young men and women to meet. In the summertime, dances were held on the rooftop which was surrounded by a high fence. There was live music and refreshments.

On the High Holy Days the synagogue was filled with people and there was an overflow on the streets. On Yom Kippur the weather was usually hot and sunny. There was no air conditioning. Several women would faint from the heat and the lack of food. There was always a commotion when they were carried out. There were sons and daughters who brought bouquets of flowers for their parents when they left the synagogue at the end of the day.

When there were funerals, the rabbi would preach outside on the top step of the synagogue and eulogize the deceased. The curious children listened and learned who had died and how wonderful he had been.

I grew up at a time when there was a gentler way of life - although we didn't recognize it as such at the time.

Rabbi Leo Shayorich was the rabbi. Judge Lashin was the president.

Young Israel holds fond memories for me. It was one of the few Orthodox congregations that educated young girls. I went to Hebrew School until the sixth grade. There was no such thing as a Bar Mitzvah for girls but I received and excellent education.

The rabbi was Rabbi Hoch.

I was in the Boy Scout Troop that carried the flag at the ground breaking ceremonies.

It was a small synagogue, where my sister and I went to Hebrew School and Saturday services. In 1957 they opened a large beautiful edifice, which was just about the time the neighborhood changed.

I grew up on 166 and the Grand Concourse. In 1973 my family moved to the Pelham Parkway section. While taking the El into Manhattan, I had an urge to roam the South Bronx in my car with a camera and take pictures of all the abandoned, converted synagogues. Unfortunately, I never embarked on my idea. I did not have the money, nor the courage (remember what the city was like in the mid 70's), nor the resources to find the various synagogues. You can just imagine how thrilled I am by your work.

One note in connection with Young Israel of The Concourse (the one on the Concourse, not Walton Avenue). My late father was strongly rebuked by Rabbi Hoch when he tried to convince him that it was a waste of money to build the new building, that the heyday of the Concourse was about to end. This was only the late 50's and everyone thought my father was crazy. He was just prescient. One other thing about YI of the Concourse. The building on the Concourse my have had the first succah with an electronic roof which was closed during the rest of the year and when it rained too hard. The succah was a permanent structure with heat.

My grandfather was very involved in the Y.I. of the Concourse in the 1930s and I believe he was the editor of the newsletter. I have some of the finished newsletters and rough drafts he worked with.

Twins were visiting their grandparents and attending services during the Holy Days in 1976. One child said, I want to go home to see the Brady Bunch. The grandmother answered, They aren't home. The children from the Brady Bunch went to shul.

I was confirmed at Adath Israel when Richard Tucker was the cantor.

My dad helped to start Adath Israel on the Grand Concourse. Rabbi Henry Schorr was the Rabbi and Richard Tucker was the cantor.

When I attended Adath Israel, Rabbi Schorr and Cantor Botashansky were there. The Masada Chapter met at the synagogue.

The one item that stands out in my mind was the children visiting their grandparents in the synagogue on Yom Kippur. The grandparents stayed in the synagogue all day and fasted. Children visited during the day, returned to hear the shofar blow at sundown and then walked home with their grandparents.

My father and several others helped found Adath Israel. At first we met and had Sunday School in a store somewhere off the Concourse.

At Adath Israel, the classrooms were not comfortable. They were created by movable partitions on the lower floor.

From the age of 16 I taught in the Sunday School. On the High Holy Days we were assigned seats. We sat in the same row every year. When I was 13 or 14 we held the first Confirmation service on Shevuouth. I was in that class. On holidays everyone paraded up and down the Concourse in new finery. It was the thing to do. Cantor Richard Tucker officiated at my wedding in 1943. There was a social club for post confirmation teenagers.

Adath Israel was impressive and elegant. My sister was married there in 1932.

I remember fondly the grand, high-ceilinged sanctuary with its high benches. My father and my uncle sat together somewhere in the middle, and I have an image of coming to see them at intervals on the High Holidays. There was a stage at which I was too small to have my own ticket, and I remember family and friends taking turns using our tickets at brief intervals to attend the main service upstairs instead of the children's service. The tall, heavy doors to the vestibule and the ticket-taker and his excessive vigilance come to mind.

Rabbi Schorr was quite formal and stately, and set my image of what a clergyman should be like. Throughout, we benefited from the beautiful voice of cantor Mario Botashansky. This stately man, with his goatee, sang beautifully, and I have not heard the likes since in services all over the world. The choir sang from behind a screened balcony over the ark, so I never saw them, nor did I see the organist. But I do recall the choir's Irish tenor, whose voice soared over the sanctuary.

I spent many afternoons in the Hebrew school. Mr. Markson was the principal and the best and most erudite teacher was Mr. Gutman. They were refugees and we benefited from their tragedy. Would that my daughters could have had their Hebrew education from teachers who knew as much.

I wanted to learn how to conduct a service and went one day to Junior Congregation determined to take notes so that I could remember the order. But as soon as I took out my pen and notepad, I was reminded (sternly, as I recall) that I couldn't write there on Shabbos. So I put the pen and pad away, and soon went away myself. I never did lead a service. I don't recall anybody in the congregation who kept kosher or who didn't ride or write on Saturday. That just wasn't Conservative Judaism, in Bronx, circa 1956 (my Bar Mitzvah year).

Those were happy times. Who was to know that it wouldn't go on forever?

My family moved to the West Bronx in 1933 when I was 5. Henry Schorr was my rabbi until I moved away from New York in 1952. Louis Lipitz was the cantor, followed by Reuben Tucker who went on to become Richard Tucker of the Met, followed by Mario Botoshansky.

At Adath Israel we were exposed to an organ and mixed voice choir. I can remember as a child how impressed I was with the choir in mortar boards and academic robes, how impressed I was with the officers dressed in top hats, swallow tail coats and striped pants. One of Rabbi Schorr's dreams was to have a proper Hebrew School and unilaterally he committed the congregation to the purchase of a lot that was one huge boulder to the immediate west of the synagogue. There was a faction that felt he had overstepped his authority, which he had, and a mass congregational meeting was held. He prevailed and the Board of Directors resigned with a new Board being voted into office. To build the school, the boulder had to be dynamited to clear the land.

The temple was a bar mitzvah factory. Often there would be 2,3 or even 4 bar mitzvahs on a Shabbat.

The Sunday School was enormous with most of the children lining up once a month before classes commenced to pay $1.00 tuition, which was charged per pupil, per month.

While my parents would attend the service with organ and choir all year, on the High Holy Days they would get seats at the alternative service held in the social hall which followed a more traditional form without music.

In his later years, my father led the services. My mother was president of the sisterhood 3 times for a total of 17 years.

The only reason Richard Tucker left Adath Israel to go to Brooklyn Jewish Center was the Board would not approve a $500 increase in his pay.

Richard Tucker was the cantor at my wedding. Several years later, when my younger sister wanted him to be the cantor at her wedding, Richard Tucker's agent wanted, as a favor, $500. which was too much money. Cantor Botoshansky and Rabbi Schorr conducted the ritual.

I attended Zichron Moshe and then Akiba Hebrew Academy for several years (between 1958-1962) and my grandfather was Louis Lipitz, famous cantor and associated with Temple Adath Israel before Richard Tucker took his place.

It was a small temple in a little private house. Because we were a small temple everyone knew each other. There were 200 to 250 families at the most. We were called, Sinai, The Friendly Temple.

My husband and I were members from 1950 to 1977 when the synagogue was sold.

My two daughters attended Sunday School for three hours on Sunday morning. They learned to read Hebrew as well as children in Orthodox and Conservative synagogues.

We had a social hall in the basement where the Bar Mitzvah celebrations were held.

After Friday evening services, Rabbi Saville would ask from the pulpit, Do all the ladies have rides home?

In 1977 the temple disbanded and whatever members were left joined Sinai Temple of Mount Vernon.

I was Bar Mitzvah there and went to confirmation class. In 1946 I was married there.

My brother and I were very active in the Junior League and we ran many socials and dances at the synagogue.

My husband and I were active members for 15 years. Before we moved to Florida the Sisterhood tendered a wonderful farewell party during a Friday evening service.

When the Tremont Temple building was sold, we gave the plaques to Scarsdale Reform Temple.

We ran a Bingo game at the Temple. We made $25,000 a year. The workers got tired so we stopped.

A Senior Citizens' Center was started in the building. The city paid the temple $15,000 a year in rent. We had plenty of money but the neighborhood changed and we didn't have enough people.

I remember that the cantor used to fall asleep during the services.

A group of us did not want to lose our friendship when the Tremont Temple closed. We formed a charity group and have just celebrated our thirtieth anniversary.

Services on Friday night were beautiful. There was a mob on the High Holidays.

My most memorable reminiscence was my father's reaction to the Reform religious service. In spite of his criticisms, I knew he enjoyed the services, the music and the singing. He continued to attend reform services after he moved from the Bronx.

I was disturbed by the fact that the rabbi left the rabbinate to affiliate himself with his father-in-law in the business world.

We belonged to the Concourse Center of Israel which was Orthodox. We lived next door to the Tremont Temple. It was reform and the attendees were more elegantly dressed and more impressive than those at the Concourse Center. My family's comments included those about those 'Chazzer fressers'.

In a New York Times article titled, Tremont Temple Quits the Bronx, dated December 17, 1976, an early member of the Tremont Temple says, I remember my brother and I being the only Jews in P.S. 56 on Hull Avenue and having to say we were sick to explain why we stayed home on the high holy days.

On the nearest Saturday to October 8, 1928, I became Bar-Mitzvah in the Tremont Temple. The rabbi who performed the ceremony was Dr. Irving Reichert, who, I understand, later moved to California.

My husband, now 87 years old, was Bar-mitzvahed at the Tremont Temple. He thinks that the rabbi at the time was Rabbi Levy. The rabbi was extremely well dressed and a very pleasant man.

The only other recollection he has was that the temple had a performance of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. His older brother played the handsome prince and he was one of the seven dwarfs holding a shovel.

Sam Minskoff, the real estate mogul, was the chairman of the building committee. The synagogue was Orthodox but the men and women sat on the same level.

I went to Hebrew School at the synagogue. This was two afternoons and a Sunday morning which covered bible history (which I enjoyed).

During the High Holidays my father attended services and, as a preteenager, I would visit and sit with him periodically (This was not my bag.).

The first year, services for the High Holidays were held in a tent.

The synagogue accommodated 1500 people for services during the High Holidays. The Hebrew School had 175 students and 4 teachers.

The Dedication Program describes the laying of the cornerstone in 1921. Among the dignitaries was Mayor Hylan, Borough President Bruckner, Judge Gibbs, County Clerk Moran and Assemblyman Antin. Cantor Josef Rosenblatt led the choir.

At a time when most sermons were in Yiddish the Montefiore Center had its sermons in English.

Rabbi Jacob Katz was also the Jewish Chaplain at Sing Sing Prison.

I remember going to Hebrew School between 1933 and 1935. How afraid we were of Rabbi Katz. If you stepped out of line you got a good potch.

After the Bar Mitzvah my parents had the reception at Hoffman's Restaurant on Longwood near Prospect. About two thirds of the way into the lunch my father asked me for the envelopes I had collected. He needed the money to pay for the meal. Those were lean years for my family.

Back in twenties my father served on the Board of Montefiore Hebrew Congregation. He was always so proud of that synagogue.

There was a small memorial plaque for the Strausses who went down with the Titanic.

Clifford Odets lived on Longwood and Beck Streets.

Boys and girls were confirmed together on Shevuouth when I attended in the late twenties.

There was a minyon for preteenagers in the basement. If someone was late he had to start from the beginning.

Tachlis was held at the Bronx River. People had to walk through a Christian neighborhood to get there. Anti-semitism was rampant after Work War II.. Jews carried siddurs in brown paper bags when they went to services.

I was Bar Mitzvahed at an Orthodox shul. We had no Hebrew School so my parents sent me to Montefiore for Hebrew School. I hope that I shall always remember the dynamic force of Rabbi Katz.

Rabbi Katz delivered a major sermon every Friday night. One night in particular was outstanding. The previous evening (Thursday) the rabbi acted as chaplain at a Sing Sing execution. A Jew had been put to death - Lepke Buchalter - but still a Jew. This was an unheard of affair in our generation. I can still see Rabbi Katz's contorted face, fingers and arms outstretched, body weaving and crying at this shame.

Rabbi Katz didn't demand respect. It was given to him. Once, while he was walking down the aisle toward the pulpit, a male stranger rose in his seat as the rabbi passed. The rabbi turned sideways, stared and snapped, 'I don't believe in that humbug'.

On Saturday mornings only the older members performed torah services. Therefore, we were excused and allowed to play stickball in the street. At the conclusion of the torah services, Rabbi Katz would come out on the stoop. That was the automatic signal to stop. We returned and finished the service.

Every Saturday afternoon we had a pre-mincha study time. We studied the torah portion of the week. During the winter we studied indoors and during the summer we sat on the fire escape. Mincha was our service. Each young man could be a cantor. We performed the entire service. Rabbi Katz would question the leader about the religious topic of the week. I don't recall anyone being embarrassed by the rabbi's request.

Hebrew School was held two afternoons a week at Montefiore while on Sundays we traveled to Haaren High School in Manhattan for a 9:00 to 1:00 session.

Weekday afternoons, Mr. Zaretsky - conservatively dressed, brown horn rimmed glasses - typical professional teacher was a melamed with class. He tried. He was a peace loving, humane person whose anger was noticed only when a student took too long to grasp what was being taught. Think of a sweet cello and you've got the picture.

On Sundays the exciting spirit of Zionism was the main feature. There was history, song and dance.

I was given a blue box to collect money on the streets in that area for charity. I only collected a dime but saw another child receive many coins that went into her box. I went back to the rabbi in tears with only ten cents in my blue box. The rabbi put in some coins and said, Don't cry. All the money goes to the same place. That satisfied my feelings.

The Montefiore Synagogue was Reform. On Rosh Hashonah, Rabbi Katz ended services in time for the congregants to eat lunch. The Orthodox synagogues in the neighborhood ended their services at 4:00 P.M.

I said kaddish for my father in that shul.

One of my friends was married in the shul and we were invited. It wasn't fancy but people didn't have much money then.

My most vivid memory was being called to minyon by the Shamos, a large kindly man we called Mr. Friesel. He would come to the porch and knock on the window , usually for Friday evening services. I dreaded his call, but I went.

A few weeks before the High Holidays, Mr. Friesel would give me a quarter to distribute advertising circulars soliciting shul goers to attend his shul for the Holiday Services.

I went to Hebrew school at the shul. We had no money, so my mother made arrangements to pay a dollar or two, when we had it, for going three times a week.

I had two teachers in the Cheder. One was a distinguished, dark man who always wore a black suit. His name was Rabbi Solomon Wind. His wife died at that time, since I recall he grew a beard. Someone explained to us that it was part of the shiva ritual. The second teacher was Mr. Katznelson. He went by the name of Nelson.

I was bar-mitzvah in this shul. I read the entire torah section and the Haftorah. Rabbi Wind wrote a speech which I delivered in Yiddish. I recall getting quarters from my friends and my relatives presented me with one or two dollars. I gave everything to my mother.

Services were held in the basement until 1914 when the remainder of the three story building was completed.

Zichron Moshe was the name of a World War II soldier. His parents had the synagogue named after him. They paid for the synagogue.

Rabbi Samuels had no children. He adopted a baby from Palestine.

On Simchas Torah children went to the synagogue hopping. This was a German custom.

There was a Sephardic synagogue on the top floor. The space was rented from the Orthodox synagogue on the lower floor. I was Bar Mitzvahed at the Sephardic synagogue.

The synagogue was on the basement level and quite large, accommodating at least 400 people, while the women's balcony held at least another hundred.

I attended cheder for some years. I managed to learn nothing in class but it had a lasting influence on my life for one reason. All cheder students were required to attend Shabbos services. On a typical Shabbos, about 200 children were in attendance. We were taught all the important melodies and we felt we were carrying a large part of the service.

During Torah reading we went to the chapel and Mr. Wyler, one of the teachers, told us stories.

We continued attending long after we left cheder. Finally, we organized ourselves into the Adath Ha-Bar Mitzvot. Two boys attended Yeshivah and one or the other read from the torah each week. All of us were able to lead the service. In later years, when I lived in one or another small mid-western town where there was no rabbi this experience proved invaluable.

Around 1933 the congregation decided to build a larger synagogue over the old building. Money proved an endless problem. It took about 2 years to complete.

The principal jobs of the shammes were to read the torah and to bang on the Amod to quiet the noisy congregants. His reading of the torah was unintelligible and my contemporaries made fun of him.

There was a minyon three times a day. On weekday mornings there were two, one at 6:00 for those who had to go to work early and a later one for people who had more time.

My father was a member of Congregation Moishe Zadek. It was a strictly Orthodox Synagogue. I did not attend Hebrew School. Years ago, girls were not bas-mitzvahed.

The congregation on Morris Avenue was my father's favorite. It was more old- fashioned and appeared to run closer to the strict laws of the Orthodox Jewish religion.

Rabbi Hollander was the first American Rabbi to go to Russia after World War II.

We held our boy scout meetings in the gymnasium of the Mount Eden Center.

The synagogue had a balcony for the women and a domed stained glass roof. My family and I were members from 1930 to 1950.

I remember that the Cantor was Abner Sobol and the rabbi was David Hollander.

My grandmother was a founder and received a certificate from the members for her work. The Rabbi was David Hollander who had just gotten married and received a life time contract. He moved into our private house and became our tenant. He helped in the burial of my grandmother who was taken into the synagogue to honor her. He also officiated at my son's bar-mitzvah and my husband's burial. I am now 80 years old.

I went to Mount Eden Jewish Center for many years. My teachers were Mr. Strauss, Rabbi Pinchas Twersky, and Rabbi David B. Hollander. Thank you for helping me recall some of my great Bronx past.

We had a beautiful shul. There was a small worship place (a bas amidrash) in the basement and a large room and an arch on the street level. All organizations met there. The most affluent people were members. I had gold plaque put up for my husband in his memory.

I lived in the apartment on the third floor of the building next to the synagogue.

I wonder what happened to the remembrance plaques that were on the wall. My parents' names were on the plaques.

There were over 300 children in the Talmud Torah.

There was an active sisterhood which raised from $7,000 to $10,000 a year. There were card parties, luncheons and bazaars.

At the beginning, women sat upstairs but later everyone sat together. The synagogue changed with the times.

I was Bar Mitzvahed at the Jewish Center of Highbridge in 1964 by Rabbi Nathan Taragin.

I remember the great expansion of the Center - a temple auditorium addition, Hebrew School classrooms, etc.

In the 1940s I attended and graduated from the afternoon school. During that period, our rabbi was Rabbi Rabinowitz.

The rabbi was Rabbi Tarragon. My children went to Hebrew School and my son started before we moved to Coop City. A few of our friends and neighbors never treated us equally with people who lived in the other part of the community like Noonan Plaza, etc.

When the synagogue was sold the torahs, prayer books and other religious items were donated to a senior citizens center called Palisades Gardens in Palisades, New York.

This was an Orthodox German congregation. They had a typical German service. There was never a rabbi. Reverend Plaut led the congregation. He was more knowledgeable than the rest of the congregation.

My children were born in 1939, 1940 and 1945 and to this day refer to having spent the best years of their life in the neighborhood and at the synagogue. We attended all the happy occasions of our friends' children at the synagogue.

My maternal grandparents, Rabbi Israel and Rachel Movshowitz (Mowshowitz) were the founders/organizers of the Synagogue in 1941. I believe my grandfather passed away in 1942, when I was about 4 years of age. My uncle, Rabbi Joseph Mowshowitz then assumed the leadership role of the Synagogue. I actually lived in Indiana as a child but moved to 1651 Popham Ave. with my mother after my parents were divorced in 1945. At that time, the upstairs of the building was a rental apartment and we lived on the ground floor which was partially a Synagogue and the rest was living quarters. I remember as a young child sitting in the kitchen on "Yom Kippur" eating while peering through the doorway at people sitting in the Synagogue. A few years later the ground floor was remodeled to be a Synagogue in its entirety and we moved upstairs.

I recall there being morning and evening services daily in the Synagogue attended primarily by elderly residents of the neighborhood but occasionally (after my Bar Mitzvah) I would be summoned from a "stickball" game outside to help make up a "minyon". I have many fond memories of those years and especially recall the sermons being given in "Yiddish" , women sitting in a separate section, one of my non-Jewish friends coming in after Friday night services and turning off the lights and turning them on again early Saturday morning.

I lived there until I went away to college in 1954 and spent some vacations at home until I graduated in 1958 and have never been back to the old neighborhood since.

My only remembrance relates to my visits to the shul with my grandfather. He would stay with us on occasion, and in those instances he would take me to Sabbath services where he had me up on the bimah to take part in the Kiddish ritual. This was some adventure for a young one. I don't think I was so much impressed by the riligiosity of the moment as I was with the opportunity of sipping the wine and taking part in the oneg shabbat that followed.

I remember going there as a child but that was about it. They still have a section of plots at Beth David Cemetery located on Elmont Road, Elmont, Long Island.

I went to the Hunts Point Jewish Center where Rabbi David Savitz was the spiritual leader. He was very vibrant and more Americanized than other rabbis. He seemed as we would call it today, Conservative and much more to my liking.

Rabbi Savitt was most energetic and colorful and an extremely dynamic speaker.

I can remember him speaking to a packed synagogue on Kol Nidre night where you could hear a pin drop, it was so hushed and still. And when he raised his voice to shout, it seemed as though the huge lolly columns and pillars were virtually trembling and vibrating.

Rabbi David Savitt, I believe, left the Temple to become the head of Salante Yeshiva in the Pelham section.

There was a mikvah in the building. It was the only one in the area.

My nephew was Bar Mitzvahed at the synagogue. I was not a member but I bought tickets for the holidays and went to services regularly.

There was a Beth Hamedrash (house of learning) in the basement. The group met daily.

We had different groups - a chevra kadisha (a funeral committee) and a chevra mishnayoth ( a group to study traditional law - biblical commentaries).

Those were the days of real Orthodox synagogues. People cared for each other and had time to study torah. Now, everyone is too busy. No one has time.

We were not observant Jews but I attended on Simchat Torah.

Children were given chocolate to entice them to attend services on Saturday.

I taught at P.S. 39 on Longwood Avenue during the 1950s. I went to the synagogue on Southern Boulevard to say Yiskor.

A Mikvah was installed while I was still a youngster. The rabbi at the time was Rabbi Judah Altusky. When Rabbi Altusky left, Rabbi Miller came to the congregation. He was a very dynamic and dramatic rabbi.

I was the only girl in my class for 4 years and attended services every Saturday. I loved it but I could never lead Junior Services because I was a girl. I was the only one of my friends who attended Hebrew School and was one of the few women of my generation who could daven. I very much resented that my twin brother, who botched it and had to be tutored for his bar mitzvah, had a bar mitzvah and I couldn't do an hoftorah or be recognized because I was a girl in an orthodox family. Mr. Zimmer was my Hebrew School teacher.

In 1939-1940 I attended an orthodox storefront synagogue on Tinton Avenue. I was completely ignored because I was girl. The following year I was registered at Sinai Temple Sunday School (Reform) on Stebbins Avenue. That was a very positive experience where the rabbi taught songs, related bible stories and welcomed my mother and me to Friday night services.

I was one of the first boys to be Bar Mitzvahed at the synagogue when it was opened in 1925.

The bima was in the center of the synagogue. I made my speech from there. In fact, I still remember my speech (The respondent, now 76 years of age, recited the opening lines.). There were no classrooms at the synagogue. An old rabbi with payas came to our house three times a week to give me Bar Mitzvah lessons.

Men and women sat separately. There was no balcony so the women sat on the same level.

Services were held in a tent on Andrews Avenue until the synagogue was occupied.

Rabbi Simon Kramer was the rabbi. He came from a Chicago Yeshiva and later returned to Chicago. The rabbi started a yeshiva at the synagogue.

There were over 1500 people who attended Rosh Hashonah and Yom Kippur services. Services were held upstairs and in the basement on the holidays. Children's services were held downstairs on Saturdays.

My boys were Bar Mitzvahed at the Institute.

When we disbanded, the congregation gave the building away to a drug rehabilitation center rather than sell it to a church.

The bima was in the center of the synagogue. The man who read the torah was a rabbi from Europe.

My father was one of the founders and was its president for a long time. My husband was also president for several years. I was married there and my two sons were Bar Mitzvahed there.

The Hebrew Institute is now located in Riverdale (The Bronx) at 3700 Henry Hudson Parkway East and is led by Rabbi Avraham Weiss.

I received my Hebrew training and was Bar Mitzvahed at the Hebrew Institute. The temple was beautiful. I attended from 1956-1960. Mr. Weinglas was the Hebrew School Principal.

Although I disliked attending Hebrew School after regular school, I am somewhat grateful that I can read Hebrew, and to this day, I appreciate the depth and beauty of Judaism.

I remember the very large tent on Tremont and Andrews Avenue that was used for the High Holy Days before the synagogue was built.

My grandfather bought the golden key to open the doors at the dedication of the building. My father blew the shofar there until his death.

Rabbi Kramer was the second rabbi there. Almost all the young women in our family were married there by Rabbi Kramer. The public schools were so overcrowded (no date was given as to the exact year) that parents appealed to Rabbi Kramer to start a day school. The building was large with many classrooms, gym, kitchen, etc. After considerable negotiations with the Board of Education, Akiba Academy was founded with only a kindergarten. Each year another grade was added until it had a full eight year school. Akiba still exists in Riverdale.

The last time I saw the Institute I cried as it was neglected, windows were broken and graffiti was all over the building.

I have many wonderful memories of the Hebrew Institute and its people.

I was chairman of the board of Akiba Hebrew Academy for 18 years.

Salanter Yeshiva, Riverdale Hebrew Academy and Akiba combined to form SAR Academy in Riverdale. We purchased the Toscanini estate and erected the present building.

I remember the morning of my Bar Mitzvah. I lived in 1911 University Avenue. The rabbi lived in 1895. My father took my brother and me and we started to walk up the block to the shul. While we were walking, I saw the rabbi who was walking with his son and his elderly father (also a rabbi). Naturally, the rabbi's father walked very slowly. I, in my excitement, wanted to get to shul. I remember my father pulling me back and making sure we walked slowly behind the rabbi. When I asked for an explanation, he said that the rabbi was very important and he didn't want to show disrespect by arriving before him.

I loved the High Holy Holidays because the whole world used to come. Once I became a teenager, I never went inside the shul. I loved seeing the kids and adults from all over who I hadn't seen all year. In the afternoon we would walk to other synagogues in the area and get a chance to meet new kids.

I remember, when I was about 8 or 9 years old, visiting my uncle Morris, who was a vice president in the shul. He had his spot and I would come up and sit with him for awhile. I remember men opening snuff boxes, giving me candy and feeling that I was swallowed up in the giant tallaisem. I liked listening to the rabbi's sermons. It was a great social studies lesson.

I was raised in the Bronx and went to Hebrew School and was Bar-Mitzvahed in Hebrew Institute of University Heights. The rabbi was Rabbi Kramer and the chazan was Cooper (I don't know his first name.) I was Bar-Mitzvahed in April, 1937.

My most moving memories were of Cantor Flussberg. He had a marvelous voice and when he hit a high note, the chandeliers vibrated.

We have wonderful memories of the Hebrew School teachers. My children's favorite was Mrs. Saltz who retired and went to live in Israel.

There are many former members who still maintain a friendship though we left the area more than 25 years ago.

I was Bar-Mitzvahed at Hebrew Institute. My family were members from 1923 until after the end of World War II. The rabbi was Simon Kramer for all those years. Our president at that time was Max Schneider, who later became president of the Bronx. I still feel a bit nostalgic about the good old days when some of the worshipers would walk up and down the center aisle and doven along with the Chazen Mr. Kirschner.

I remember that Franklin D. Roosevelt appointed our rabbi (Simon G. Kramer) as an ambassador of a sort during the late 1930s to help relocate Hitler's outcast Jews.

At about age 8 my parents enrolled me in the Pelham Parkway Jewish Center, 900 Pelham Parkway. I remember my teacher's name as Mrs. Brind (I have it written in a prayer book that was distributed to all the students). I still have the book in my home library.

To the best of my recollection, this was a conservative Synagogue. It was a formidable edifice and a 4 block walk from our home on Holland Avenue.

At the end of the 1st year in class, my parents transferred me to Cong Ohel Moishe, Wallace Ave., just around the corner from our apartment house. This was an old time Shul, Orthodox and located in a storefront. It was the Shul my Grandfather belonged to.

The leader of the Shul was Rabbi Klien. He was a no nonsense Rabbi, if you spoke out of turn or were not paying attention, he had no qualms about giving you a love tap with his rubber tipped wooden pointer. You either learned your lessons or you went home with red welts from his love taps.

My Bar Mitzvah was held on a Thursday, it was less costly and supposed to be a good day as there was Torah reading on Thursdays. My mom and sisters really did not have a good view of me on the Bema as they sat on the other side of a white curtain used to separate the men and women.

The 4 years I spent at this Shul and with Rabbi Klein, were years I will never forgot. It was an old time Jewish education, no pomp or fanfare.

I'm sorry to learn that the Shul is no longer in existence and that the facility it has been converted to a business.

Rabbi Kahn, who was the rabbi from 1959-1964, attempted to revitalize the congregation. He started a post Bar Mitzvah group called the Minyonaires. Among other things, they took trips to the Jewish Museum, had brunch on the Lower East Side and staged plays for the congregation. There were 36 boys in the group.

Mrs. Schiller was a Hebrew School teacher. If a student misbehaved, she would keep his shoe until 6:00 P.M. when school was over.

On the Jewish holidays, people congregated in the park north of the Court House.

I went to Hope of Israel for the holidays to hear the Shofar blowing. My mother, who didn't know what she was reading, went to services regularly.

I live at the Concourse Plaza which is now a Senior Citizens residence. I go to the synagogue every Saturday.

Rabbi Kahn had classes in Hebrew and Bible Study for adults. He loved music and had the congregation sing. Instead of a choir, the congregation was the choir.

There was a kiddush every Saturday. We were one big happy family.

Judge Levy was very active in the synagogue.

A Senior Citizens Center in there now. Lunches are served and there are various activites such as painting and music.

When President Kennedy died, Rabbi Kahn made an outstanding eulogy. It was a memorable occasion.

Rabbi Kahn made many changes when he came. The congregation spent a lot of money for improvements. I remember his saying, 'When I came to this synagogue we had a big bank account. Now we have a big debt'.

Rabbi Kahn moved to Long Island when he left the Hope of Israel.

A local custom that should not go unmentioned: On the High Holidays, everyone dressed up and went to the synagogue. Then, everyone went to Joyce Kilmer Park, which turned into a parade of fur coats, suits and high heels. The young children climbed the rocks and played in the fountain area. The older kids talked and flirted. The adults sat on the benches.

My mother still sends a donation every year, although we are not officially members.

I loved going to Junior Congregation on Saturdays. Somewhere, I believe I still have a sticker book proclaiming my attendance. This was probably during 1959-1963.

Being near Yankee Stadium, there was the once a year appearance of Mel Allen at Rosh Hashanah or Yom Kippur.

Jim Scheuer, when he represented our district, would occasionally show up for Shachrit on Shabbat. And there were various judges and lawyers from across the street whose names (other than George Goodstein) I don't recall who also attended.

I recall when President Kennedy was shot, Rabbi Kahn gave a eulogy. In fact, I think he delivered it 2 or 3 times that day. There wasn't a dry eye in the house. The event and the speaker met and caused a cataclysmic flow of tears. I still have a printed copy of the speech.

My formative years were spent at Congregation Hope of Israel. I had my bar-mitzvah there in 1961 and my Ufruf in 1970. I thought Rabbi Kahn was the greatest speaker. I recall when President Kennedy was shot, Rabbi Kahn gave the eulogy - In fact he delivered it two or three times that day. There wasn't a dry eye in the house - the event and the speaker met and caused a cataclysmic flow of tears.

I received my introduction to Politics 101 lessons at the Hope of Israel. The President of the synagogue was Leonard Fastenberg who was a city councilman. I worked for him during the primary elections one summer. My work consisted of being at the 161st Street subway and el stations and handing out his literature from 6:30 A.M. to 8:30 A.M. The pay was 50 cents an hour.

Being near Yankee Stadium, there was also the once a year appearance by Mel Allen at Rosh Hashonah or Yom Kippur.

When I was growing up, money was always being raised to build a new Young Israel to replace the building. Finally, a new larger building was erected on the Grand Concourse. Now, the synagogue we built from all the money we raised isn't even a synagogue - it's a museum.

I was member of the Junior group for a few years until my interest in religion waned.

Young Israel was a small shul when I attended. Because of its limited seating capacity, the shul held High Holy Day services at the Concourse Plaza. A part of the service each year (for twenty years) was an appeal for money for a new building.

I went to say Yiskor in a downpour. I knew I shouldn't bring an umbrella to the synagogue. When I entered I put it in a corner near the front entrance. When I left after the service, the umbrella was gone.

On the holy days there were services downstairs (the less expensive seats) and upstairs which my parents attended.

My father made frequent trips to the women's balcony because, I suspect, he became restless as the service dragged on.

I seem to remember there was always a man with a window pole who tried endlessly, but in vain, to satisfy the women, some of whom wanted the window open, while others preferred it closed.

The rabbi's name was Molitan. He had three daughters. His wife now lives in Jerusalem.

We always had a large turnout but in the 1970s people moved to Co-op City. The Young Israel of University Heights on Townsend Avenue sold their building and joined our membership.

In 1975 we had to sell our building. It was painful. When we sold the shul everyone wanted money for their favorite institution. We gave money to Rabbi Molitan as well as Rabbi Greenberg, who came to us from Young Israel.

We gave money to Young Israel in Israel as well as to some yeshivahs. In one case, we sent a check to a yeshivah in Israel by travelers who visited there and the check cleared before we could cover it. The check bounced. A former member took the siddurim and the plaques were given to other synagogues. We sold several religious articles to a member who moved to Muncie and found he made a profit. The few remaining people in the neighborhood went to minyon at Temple Zion on the Concourse.

Prior to World War I the congregation met at Our Savior Church on Washington Avenue and 183rd Street. One of the members went to Father Duffy, the priest who was the pastor of the church, to ask that Catholics not pick on the Jews. The Father suggested that the congregation open their own synagogue.

I grew up on Washington and 180th Street, I went to P.S. 59 for kindergarten and St. Joseph's School for grades 1-8. In your involvement with Aquinas College, you may have rubbed elbows with a Sister Marion Louise (she may also go by her real name), a Sparkill Dominican nun. Sr. Marion was an amazing authority on the local history of the village of Tremont and she told me an extraordinary story. She said that the building that was home to Zeire Jacob was originally St. Joseph's Church. When the parish expanded and needed a larger church, Rev. Peter Farrell had the present St. Joseph's building constructed on Bathgate Avenue. Rev. Farrell later sold the old church to a fur merchant, who was known as Fox the furrier to house a Jewish congregation.

The memorial plaques were moved to New Rochelle when the Center was closed.

During the year men and women sat together. During the holidays they sat separately.

When I was three years old I went to Essex Street with my mother to buy material for the Sisterhood Bazaar. My mother gave a big donation because I went along.

My son was Bar Mitzvahed at the shul on Plimpton Avenue because my husband was angry with the rabbi. When my husband was sick the rabbi didn't visit him.

After Yom Kippur, we kids collected the no-longer needed Rosh Hashonah - Yom Kippur admission tickets from the congregants. We liked the multi-colored tickets.

Paul Striker gave me a bible as a gift for my bar-mitzvah. I don't remember his position at the Jewish Center.