I often felt that the marvellous thing about being in M’bro was getting the hell out of the place—and where better to go than Saltburn! In the 1950’s this would take a whole day, starting at the United Bus Station. I recently paid a return visit to Saltburn, after half a century.

You know that when visiting a place with childhood memories everything has changed and memories cannot be recaptured. Well, you can forget it. Saltburn hasn’t altered one little bit; and looking at it objectively, what a marvellous place it is. It is so surprising that outside the immediate area nobody had ever heard of it.

The coastline down to Saltburn is very straight until you come to Huntcliff, which projects out to sea and nothing can ever be seen around the corner. As a child I used to think that Huntcliff marked the end of the world; so I decided to walk along the beach, to see what was the other side. It is always best to check with the Coast Guard as to the tides. Apparently, Saltburn has lost more people doing this walk than it lost in two world wars.

When I reached the end of the cliff, what did I see? Not the end of everything, but really the beginning of everything. To my surprise, there was a series of "Huntcliffs" projecting out to sea down the coast, as far as one could see. A little like November 1998 for the Kehila—not the end but the beginning of the community, albeit in a disembodied, spiritual form. It is ironic that after the ingathering of the exiles after 2,000 years, a small number, although living in Israel, immediately form new "cyber-community" with M’bro as its spiritual home.

I share these thoughts with you in respectful memory of my late Uncle Phil (Philip Niman) who I know would have been an active and keen contributor to this Newsletter. He was very well known for his work in the Kehila. He was a solicitor in the town and his distinguished services to the community at large were recognised when he was made Sheriff of the County.