I arrived in Miami Beach a few days before Rosh Hashanah of 1951 to be the rabbi of the North Shore Jewish Center. Before the decade was over, the synagogue was built, the name was changed to Temple Menorah, and in June of 1959 my wife and I took a vacation in Havana.

My wife, always suspicious of anything that smelled of communism (having survived the war as an internee in Russia's Siberia), wanted to return to Miami "as soon as possible." We were in Havana -- the city where, six months earlier, Fidel Castro had ensconced himself as the communist dictator of Cuba.

To this day, I cannot account for our having chosen that city as a vacation spot. Nor can I even account for the reason why we even took a vacation. We had never taken one before except to our teenage encampments in the mountains of South Carolina or to Israel to be with our family. Perhaps the good Lord knows what brought us to Cuba. I certainly don't.

We arrived in Cuba on a Thursday and found the city empty of tourists. The hotel treated us as royal guests. When we checked into our suite of rooms (which we did not order), we found a bouquet of flowers and a bowl of tropical fruit truly fit for royalty. Before we had a chance to change into decent clothing, the hotel manager was at our door, offering us our choice of cocktails as a service of the hotel.

Our first visit was to a shopping mall where Rachel and I whispered to each other in Hebrew as we considered some purchases. Senora Ena Habif, the owner of a gift shop, surprisingly replied OK to us in Hebrew. She explained that she had studied in the Tarbut School in Pinsk, Poland. My wife and Ena discovered they were both from Pinsk and had studied in the same Tarbut Shule (although generations apart). From Ena we learned about the Patronato, the synagogue within walking distance from our hotel.

In the Patronato, we davened Friday evening and Shabbat morning. I readily confess that when they honored me with Maftir, I chanted the Haftarah with "gusto" only to be noticed because I wanted to meet with the many Jewish worshipers. At the Kiddush, following the services, we were surrounded by the members and invited to their homes.

We did not leave Cuba early because, through these connections, I was invited to speak to the Juventude, the Young Adult Group of the Patronato. I don't recall much of the Cuban tourist attractions, but I do recall the program at the Patronato. I knew no Spanish, but with the little Italian I remembered from my JDC stint in Italy, together with a bit of Yiddish and English, I managed to make myself understood. I met with a cross-section of Cuba's Jewry.

To my surprise we learned that several Cuban Jews, like the New York Times at that point, sided with Castro's regime because of its land and social reforms, which were enacted to help poverty-stricken peasants living outside of Havana. Those Jews were ardent socialists who supported the revolution that was to come.

However, in the five or six days we spent in Castro's Havana, my wife had a premonition of what was really to come. She had lived under Russia's communism. She feared what a communist regime would do to the Cuban Jewish community, numbering about 12,000 souls. As a result, wherever we went, whomever we visited, Rachel encouraged people to leave Cuba, warning them that the same fate that befell Russia's Jewish community would ultimately befall them. Some made light of her warnings, others listened respectfully.

We returned to Miami Beach and, I sadly admit, had no further contact with those who made our trip to Cuba so pleasant and eventful.

But, about a year later, the stream of Cuban Jewish emigrants began. I became deeply involved with the several hundred Jews who left Cuba either legally or through other means of escaping the communist island.

Let me explain what I later learned. Until the Bay of Pigs invasion in April 1961, anyone who wished to leave Cuba could do so if they could show a visa to another country.

However, taking jewels or foreign currency out of Cuba was prohibited. Following that abortive invasion -- the Bay of Pigs -- Cuba closed its gates, prohibiting its citizens from emigrating. Exit permits were now required to leave the country. Lydia Schwartzbaum told me that during those years, HIAS (Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society) assisted Jews in their emigration but that much of that help was performed secretly.

Moreno Habif stated that the true character of Fidel's communist regime came home to roost on July 26, 1959 (the date of the birth of Castro's revolution), when the Jews were ordered to remove all the chairs from the Patronato synagogue to make room for the massive influx of thousands of peasants who were brought in from around Cuba to celebrate that event. That created a massive Jewish emigration, with home and possessions being left behind. Because the government's confiscation of businesses, the refugees came to America with "empty pockets."

Why did I become involved with them? I can only suggest the following possible reasons: My earlier experience as JDC's Emigration Officer in Italy may have sensitized me to refugees' problems. Some Cuban Jews remembered me from my earlier visit to Cuba. Perhaps refugees took up residence in the North Shore area of Miami Beach (where my synagogue was located) and where inexpensive rentals were still available.

Whatever the reason, when they did approach me, I warmly welcomed them, granting them free synagogue membership as well as free Hebrew school education. I fondly recall my first meeting with Cuban Jewish children. At a school assembly, I remember writing on the blackboard: HAVA -- NA GILA, stressing that learning Hebrew will be a joy. The hall resounded as I lead them in singing Hava Nagila. During the early years, I not only permitted but encouraged Bar Mitzvah celebrants to make their Bar Mitzvah speeches in Spanish.

By the end of 1960, about 50 percent of Cuba's Jewry had left that country. They had become visible in my synagogue and I became quite involved with them, visiting them in their homes and being invited to their family functions. During these visits, I found many families living in tiny one or two bedroom apartments.

In November of that year, I called three of their community leaders (Abraham Luski, Sam Papir and Moshe Derechinsky) to my home to ask them what the newly-arrived Cuban Jews needed. Their "shopping list" was huge. Topping the list was a request for a center where they could sponsor their own programs. Of course, they also asked for my help in finding homes and jobs. Although I was able to introduce several of them to business people of my synagogue, there was really little I could do to help.

However, one important result of that meeting was a decision to convert Temple Menorah's Social Hall into their meeting place for no charge. It soon became a bee-hive of activities featuring regular meetings, social gatherings (domino playing), and Chanukah and Purim parties. An interesting historical footnote: I insisted there were to be no speakers or debates on Cuban politics on their agenda. We had reason to believe that association with radical political organizations such as Alpha 66 could have dangerous consequences. But probably the most important service we rendered to the newly-arriving Cuban Jews was the Jewish education we provided at no cost.

In preparing to write this column, I wrote to several families asking them to recall their early years at Temple Menorah. Most of the responses came from second generation Cuban Jews. Their responses, reading them, sounded like premature eulogies for me -- which I frankly found embarrassing -- so I deleted most of those references. Nonetheless, I will let them tell their stories:

Rela and Julio Schniadoski: (Julio was the first Cuban Jew to become a board member of the Temple.) "We arrived January 10, 1961. That first Sunday, our children, Rosalyn and Israel, began Sunday School. That was the beginning of our relationship with Temple Menorah. I was surprised and really thrilled when, in the first year or two, I was honored to hold the Torah on Kol Nidre night."

David and Sara Jove (David today is a physician; Sara a prominent business woman.) "We arrived on U.S. soil as children with our parents and grandparents...with only "suitcases in hand." We were welcomed to Temple Menorah with open arms, offerrd free membership which allowed our children to continue their Jewish education. On the High Holidays, the longing to return to Cuba was mixed with ultimate longing for the redemption -- Aliyah. To this day our prayers are heard in Spanish, Yiddish, Hebrew, and English.

"We, along with our parents and many relatives, continue our membership in Temple Menorah. It is the closest approximation to the communal ties the "JewBans" had in Cuba. In the Social Hall many a great party has been thrown to the sounds of Cuban and Yiddish-Israeli music."

Miriam Weintraub: (a producer of TV's 60 Minutes): "When most of the Cuban Jews came to Miami they were caught between a rock and a hard place. To the Catholics, we were "the Jews;" to the Americans Jewish community, we were "those Cubans."  But...with little money and fewer English skills, we were welcomed by the rabbi at Temple Menorah. I particularly remember Rabbi Abramowitz would quiet us kids down at services in the sanctuary in both English and Spanish (his English was far better than his Spanish!)"

Jose and Sara Smith: (Jose was Miami Beach City Commissioner) "We felt quite at home. The Temple embraced the rich diversity of its multi-cultural membership... One would typically see three and four generations of the same family rising for an Aliyah to the Torah (a Sefaradi custom)."

Adriana Peljovich: "My father met Rabbi Abramowitz in 1959 during his visit in Cuba. (He was president of the Juventude.) They spoke briefly and that was that. Never would my father have imagined that only one year later, Rabbi Abramowitz would re-enter his life...My father would tell the story how a casual meeting would flourish into a relationship that would soon impact his entire family for the next 42 years."

Jose and Frieda Sapoznick: "As long as I can remember, you opened yourself and the Temple to us. We came from Cuba in 1962 and since then my entire family grew up in the Temple."

Enrique Ginzburg: (a surgeon of repute in Miami) "The message of Judaism which influenced all of us was Rabbi Abramowitz's description of Judaism as a deep spiritual force of tradition, culture and behavior that uplifts by singing, dancing, sharing, and reveling in Jewishness. There were no pretenses. This overall philosophy was best exemplified during his wonderful melodious Shabbat services and his confirmation class field trips where the biggest kid, horsing around, was the Rabbi himself."

The Cuban Colony, as they fondly call themselves, grew in numbers with the influx of Jews who had originally settled in New York and later came down to live in Miami Beach. Most of them heard of Temple Menorah through their family and/or friends in Miami Beach. Some of their remarks are quite interesting:

David and Elena Weck: "We used to come frequently to Miami Beach to share with many friends who lived in Miami and naturally, whatever religious activity we attended was scheduled at Temple Menorah. On one occasion, several honors were given out and, much to our surprise, some of the "New Yorkers" were called to receive an honor. We were so thrilled to be recognized in the Miami community by the rabbi."

Isaac Zelcer (past president of the Greater Miami Jewish Federation) "When we came from Cuba in 1960, we settled in New York, but on all the holidays we took our vacation in Miami Beach and later joined Temple Menorah. I felt at home in the Temple and with the rabbi who had received the first group of immigrants with open arms. He welcomed us as well. Also, his involvement in Jewish causes like the Israel Bonds and the Greater Miami Jewish Federation, that are very important to me, created a great affinity and incentive to me."

Steve Schwartzbaum (his mother, Sofia, serves as a Sisterhood President): "My family's relationship with Temple Menorah and its rabbi began in 1967 when we moved from New York to Miami. My parents had been very active in the Havana Jewish community but they did not affiliate with a synagogue in New York.

"Even though I was a Bar Mitzvah in New York and my sister attended Hebrew school there, we never felt welcomed. When my parents arrived in Miami Beach they were overwhelmed at their acceptance by the Temple and by Rabbi Abramowitz. I was introduced to other teenagers, quickly joined his confirmation class, and became involved with the Temple's USY."

Samuel Papir: "We came to Miami Beach in 1960. I remember meeting with Rabbi Abramowitz at his home to discuss problems facing the newly-arrived Jews. The three of us, Zionist leaders, were impressed with his zeal and desire to help. After a short stay in Miami, my family and I went to Israel, hoping to settle there. We stayed in Israel for about a year but, with a family of six, we couldn't make ends meet. So, we returned to Miami Beach. Temple Menorah became our home and the rabbi, our rabbi."

Oscar and Berta Minski: "One Friday afternoon, shortly after we moved to Miami, the rabbi called me asking, "How come your son knows Hebrew?" I replied that while in New Jersey, he attended the Yavneh Academy, but since we just got started here, we could not afford to send him to the Hebrew Academy." The Rabbi replied: "You will hear from me soon." Sure enough, the Hebrew Academy called, giving us a reduced rate for my son to attend the school. That was back in 1968."

Rafael and Rebecca Kravec: "It's been 36 years since the Kravec family and Temple Menorah started their love story. We were invited to a party the rabbi had organized for the Cuban Jews. The warmth and charisma of the rabbi convinced us that the best place our family was Menorah...and we were right. This wonderful institution was a home for our children, grandchildren and ourselves. One of the highlights of our life was hearing our youngest daughter Debbie singing the Yigdal every Kol Nidre night for the last 16 years."

Berta and Saul Ginzburg (Berta was one of the first Cuban PTA president of Temple Menorah): "We arrived in Miami Beach as refugees from the oppressive and tyrannical government of Fidel Castro. As Jews, the first thing we did was visit the local synagogue, Temple Menorah, and its rabbi. Without much in our pockets, we vividly recall the rabbi inviting us to join the Temple, knowing that we lacked the financial wherewithal to be part of the membership. In a matter of days, we went from being chased out of our home and country to a community inviting us to be part of the Jewish landscape. We were refugees no more!"

The author can be reached at ibbar@aol.com.