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250 years of Brighton's flock

April 21, 2016 15:22
Idyllic: but Brighton's pier hasn’t been there as long as its Jewish community

ByAlex Brummer, Alex Brummer

6 min read

The pews were filled to the gunnels and the galleries full of women in fine, wide brimmed hats. The temporary benches in front of the exquisitely carved wooden Aron Kodesh were crowded with youngsters, the awkwardly attired, once-a-year shul-goers, and the bookies and hucksters in loud, checked suits - characters straight out of Graham Greene.

On the bimah, like three ancient sages, stood three men splendid in their white canonicals clutching the Sifrei Torah to their chests. In the centre stood Chazan Kalman Fausner, he with the sweetest of voices clutching his iconic tuning fork. To his right, with the straggling, dark-grey beard, moving silently in prayer was the thundering orator Rav Berel Wilner and, to his left, with a brilliant, white beard and holy countenance, Shoah survivor the Rev S Josephs.

As the sounds of Kol Nidrei rang out for a few, brief moments, the congregation at Hove Hebrew Congregation joined the heavenly hosts and were directly connecting to the Almighty.

As someone born, bred and raised in Brighton, with deep-rooted connections to both the grand old dames of the city's Jewry, the Middle Street Synagogue and the Hove Hebrew Congregation on Holland Road, my personal and family memories run deep. In its pomp in the 1950s, 1960s and 1970s, the Brighton and Hove communities were at their vibrant best. My parents, Hilda and Michael Brummer, met on the steps of Middle Street in 1941 where my uncle, Chazan Hillel Brummer, one of the most celebrated cantors of his generation, would attract admiring crowds from far and wide before decanting to the United States after the war.