The Heaton Park synagogue was my family’s place of worship for decades. On Jewish festivals and sporadic Sabbath days, my late mum, my sister and I would put on our best dresses and go to the synagogue where Mum would steer us to her preferred seats (upper left-hand side, just above the ornate cabinet that housed sacred Torah scrolls). Back then, no one had any concerns about security and, during the long Yom Kippur services of my childhood, groups of us would slip outside and scamper around the synagogue grounds searching for conkers that had fallen from the overhanging horse...
Monitoring Antisemitism Intel
