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Saved From Cremation
Date: July 18, 2018

Fortunately, it is not often nowadays that the mitzvah of burying a meis mitzvah presents itself, yet this is exactly what happened in Stamford Hill last Tuesday afternoon when Mr. Phillip Mark Berman was buried at the Western Cemetery in Broxbourne by Misaskim of Stamford Hill.

Mr. Phillip Berman of London Fields, Hackney, in London, was unknown to the Jewish community. He was discovered to be Jewish just days before he was set to be cremated by Hackney Council. He merited coming to kever Yisrael through a chain of incredible hashgachah pratis events, in which the heroine is the 30-year-old proprietress of a café in London Fields, Hackney, Ms. Louise Brooks.

On Sunday evening, coinciding with what would be the end of the shivah for the man who doesn’t seem to have had any relatives to sit shivah for him, a gathering took place arranged by Mr. Yisroel Kahn of Misaskim to honor Louise and present her with the Jewish community’s heartfelt thanks for her efforts. The Kahns kindled a yahrtzeit candle for the neshamah of the meis mitzvah, about whom the halachah says hakol krovav — everyone is his relative. After hearing the story again, a minyan davened Minchah and recited Kaddish for Phillip Mark Berman.

Hamodia had the privilege to attend this memorable and moving meeting and we present here the story as it was heard directly from the people involved. Sitting around the dining room table at the Kahn home on Hillside Road were Mr. and Mrs. Kahn and their children; Louise Brooks together with her proud mother; Mr. Shlomo Sinitsky of Adass Yisroel Burial Society; Mr. Perelman; several Misaskim volunteers and other members of the Stamford Hill community.

“I’m still in awe,” said Louise, amazed over how the Jewish community cares so much for a co-religionist, even one whom they had never ever met. “He’ll arrive up there [in heaven] and won’t believe what he sees,” she exclaimed, half joking, half serious.

Louise had known Phillip Berman for five years, since she started working for Claire at her café on Landsdown Drive in London Fields, Hackney. Phillip was a regular customer at the café, coming in every day for what seems to have been his only source of social interaction. Last year, when Louise took over the café from Claire, who had become unwell and decided to retire, Phillip seemed to worry that he would no longer be welcome to spend his days at the café. Louise swiftly but good-naturedly reassured him that he could stay and sit there for as long as he wanted. Every day, she would chat with him and keep the lonely old man company.

During the cold and snowy spell the last week of February, Louise realized she hadn’t seen Phillip for several days, since the weekend. This was unusual for the man who suffered from diabetes and arthritis and walked with the help of two walking sticks. “He didn’t usually go anywhere,” she says, “and surely not in such treacherous weather.”

On Thursday evening, March 1 — the evening of Purim — while Jews were celebrating at their Purim seudos, Louise and her friend braved the cold weather and walked over to Phillip’s flat. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night without making sure he was OK,” she said matter-of-factly. “Maybe something happened to him, maybe he needs food and he can’t get out. So we walked over to the council block where I knew he lived. I didn’t know which one was his flat, but I knew it was facing the café, so I rang all the bells on that side and finally, someone who knew where Phillip lived answered and let us in, and he took us to his flat. We rang and knocked, but there was no answer. I was really worried, so I called the police. It didn’t take them long to break the door open and that’s when we found him ....” Tragically, he was no longer alive.

Louise waited until the Hackney morgue sent someone to deal with the deceased and then kept in touch to know when he would be buried. She was told that since there seemed to be no family, he would be given what is called a “pauper’s funeral” and be cremated, and that it would be within three months. Over the next four months, she called the morgue on a weekly basis to make sure she didn’t miss the funeral, and was distressed when three months passed and nothing had happened yet.

On Wednesday, June 27, almost four months after Phillip was found, Louise was outside her café at 4:30 p.m. relaxing. “I believe that everything that happens is for a reason. There really is no explanation as to why I was still there at that hour,” related Louise. “The café is open every day from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m., and I get there already around 6 a.m. or even before to prepare, so by the time 3 p.m. comes around I am exhausted and go straight home. I never stay longer.” But this time she was outside at 4:30, just in time to see a moving truck outside Phillip’s flat. “I immediately went over there and met Joe, the caretaker from Hackney council, who was cleaning out the flat ahead of Phillip’s cremation, which he told me would be next week. I asked him if I could go inside to retrieve some photos of him as a memory and he kindly allowed me to do so. There was a box with a lot of papers and I found a folder with the photos. When I got home I took out the photos, and amongst them I found a large document with Hebrew writing and the words ‘United Synagogue’ on the heading.” It was Phillip’s parents’ kesubah.

Realizing that Phillip might have been Jewish, something he had never mentioned, Louise investigated how a Jewish person should be buried and discovered that a Jewish person should never be cremated. She went back to the caretaker and told him of her discovery. She then proceeded to call the nearby Westgate United Synagogue but got no answer. She even drove over to the synagogue but it was locked.

The next morning, Thursday, Joe, the custodian of Clock House, a tall residential building on Stamford Hill Road that has offices of the Hackney Council on the lower floors, made his way to work.

Mr. Perlman, who lives in Clock House, was on the way to Shacharis, and passing Joe on his way out, greeted him with a friendly “Good morning.” Joe called him back and told him about the person who was lying in the Hackney morgue who might very possibly be Jewish. Together, they contacted Mr. Kahn of Misaskim, and Joe, who had also found Phillip’s mother’s passport and her death certificate, dated 1984, went back to get the kesubah from Louise and brought it to Mr. Kahn.

Mr. Kahn then contacted Mr. Shlomo Sinitzky from the Adas Yisroel Burial Society. “The proof we got about Phillip’s Jewish identity was coincidental,” recounted Mr. Sinitzky at the meeting. “We reckoned that since Phillip’s mother, Anna Berman, was married by the United Synagogue, chances are that she was also buried Orthodox. I called all the United Synagogue burial societies, but they didn’t have her. I tried Federation and also didn’t get anywhere. I finally remembered about one other Orthodox cemetery — Western Cemetery in Broxbourne — and finally I got somewhere. They had someone buried in the cemetery with the name Anna Berman who [had] passed away in 1984. They ‘happened’ to have someone at the cemetery right then, so they sent him to check and on her tombstone it said that she was mourned by a devoted son. We had found Phillip’s mother. When I called the coroner’s office, they first told me that I might be late, because they had already given permission for a pauper’s funeral. They called me back a few minutes later. ‘You can go get him — he’s still there. The cremation hasn’t been done yet!’ they told me. What a relief it was, after all that, to have saved him at the last minute!”

Around 50 people from the Stamford Hill community attended the funeral of the meis mitzvah, which left from the funeral home on Belfast Road, North London. Joe, the Hackney caretaker, also came to pay his last respects.

Fourteen people then accompanied the aron to the Western Cemetery in Broxbourne, where Phillip Berman was laid to rest not far from his mother’s grave. He merited having Kaddish recited at his graveside, and the men did the same at his mother’s grave, for probably the first time since she passed away more than 30 years ago.

Louise, who attended the burial, couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw how complete strangers attended Phillip’s funeral just because he was also a Jew. “He must be so happy about it, up there in heaven,” she said.

At the gathering at the Kahn home this Sunday, Louise was presented with a huge chocolate arrangement, together with a beautiful letter from Misaskim acknowledging what she did for Mr. Berman both during his lifetime and after his death — most importantly, being instrumental in saving him from being cremated and bringing him to Jewish burial. Louise couldn’t contain her tears of emotion when she read the beautiful letter. “These are tears of joy,” she assured us between the sobs. “I’m so happy that this sad story came to a happy conclusion.” Her mother sat at her side, gushing with happiness.

After davening Minchah and reciting Kaddish, Mishnayos were learned l’iluy nishmas the niftar and all parted amicably, marvelling again at the hashgachah that was so apparent all the way.

“I couldn’t understand why it was taking Hackney so long to arrange the funeral,” said Louise. “It was already almost four months, and it should not usually take more than three, but there was obviously a good reason,” she concluded. All agreed that Phillip must have had a special merit to have been given a Jewish burial at the last minute. “Maybe it was his mitzvas kibbud em, as he seems to have been a devoted son,” suggested Mr. Kahn.

Misaskim London would like to find someone to say Kaddish during the first year for Phillip — whose Hebrew name they are still hoping to discover — and plan to erect a matzeivah on his grave, as well as to clean his mother Anna’s matzeivah. Fortunately, it is not often nowadays that the mitzvah of burying a meis mitzvah presents itself, yet this is exactly what happened in Stamford Hill last Tuesday afternoon when Mr. Phillip Mark Berman was buried at the Western Cemetery in Broxbourne by Misaskim of Stamford Hill.

Mr. Phillip Berman of London Fields, Hackney, in London, was unknown to the Jewish community. He was discovered to be Jewish just days before he was set to be cremated by Hackney Council. He merited coming to kever Yisrael through a chain of incredible hashgachah pratis events, in which the heroine is the 30-year-old proprietress of a café in London Fields, Hackney, Ms. Louise Brooks.

On Sunday evening, coinciding with what would be the end of the shivah for the man who doesn’t seem to have had any relatives to sit shivah for him, a gathering took place arranged by Mr. Yisroel Kahn of Misaskim to honor Louise and present her with the Jewish community’s heartfelt thanks for her efforts. The Kahns kindled a yahrtzeit candle for the neshamah of the meis mitzvah, about whom the halachah says hakol krovav — everyone is his relative. After hearing the story again, a minyan davened Minchah and recited Kaddish for Phillip Mark Berman.

Hamodia had the privilege to attend this memorable and moving meeting and we present here the story as it was heard directly from the people involved. Sitting around the dining room table at the Kahn home on Hillside Road were Mr. and Mrs. Kahn and their children; Louise Brooks together with her proud mother; Mr. Shlomo Sinitsky of Adass Yisroel Burial Society; Mr. Perelman; several Misaskim volunteers and other members of the Stamford Hill community.

“I’m still in awe,” said Louise, amazed over how the Jewish community cares so much for a co-religionist, even one whom they had never ever met. “He’ll arrive up there [in heaven] and won’t believe what he sees,” she exclaimed, half joking, half serious.

Louise had known Phillip Berman for five years, since she started working for Claire at her café on Landsdown Drive in London Fields, Hackney. Phillip was a regular customer at the café, coming in every day for what seems to have been his only source of social interaction. Last year, when Louise took over the café from Claire, who had become unwell and decided to retire, Phillip seemed to worry that he would no longer be welcome to spend his days at the café. Louise swiftly but good-naturedly reassured him that he could stay and sit there for as long as he wanted. Every day, she would chat with him and keep the lonely old man company.

During the cold and snowy spell the last week of February, Louise realized she hadn’t seen Phillip for several days, since the weekend. This was unusual for the man who suffered from diabetes and arthritis and walked with the help of two walking sticks. “He didn’t usually go anywhere,” she says, “and surely not in such treacherous weather.”

On Thursday evening, March 1 — the evening of Purim — while Jews were celebrating at their Purim seudos, Louise and her friend braved the cold weather and walked over to Phillip’s flat. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night without making sure he was OK,” she said matter-of-factly. “Maybe something happened to him, maybe he needs food and he can’t get out. So we walked over to the council block where I knew he lived. I didn’t know which one was his flat, but I knew it was facing the café, so I rang all the bells on that side and finally, someone who knew where Phillip lived answered and let us in, and he took us to his flat. We rang and knocked, but there was no answer. I was really worried, so I called the police. It didn’t take them long to break the door open and that’s when we found him ....” Tragically, he was no longer alive.

Louise waited until the Hackney morgue sent someone to deal with the deceased and then kept in touch to know when he would be buried. She was told that since there seemed to be no family, he would be given what is called a “pauper’s funeral” and be cremated, and that it would be within three months. Over the next four months, she called the morgue on a weekly basis to make sure she didn’t miss the funeral, and was distressed when three months passed and nothing had happened yet.

On Wednesday, June 27, almost four months after Phillip was found, Louise was outside her café at 4:30 p.m. relaxing. “I believe that everything that happens is for a reason. There really is no explanation as to why I was still there at that hour,” related Louise. “The café is open every day from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m., and I get there already around 6 a.m. or even before to prepare, so by the time 3 p.m. comes around I am exhausted and go straight home. I never stay longer.” But this time she was outside at 4:30, just in time to see a moving truck outside Phillip’s flat. “I immediately went over there and met Joe, the caretaker from Hackney council, who was cleaning out the flat ahead of Phillip’s cremation, which he told me would be next week. I asked him if I could go inside to retrieve some photos of him as a memory and he kindly allowed me to do so. There was a box with a lot of papers and I found a folder with the photos. When I got home I took out the photos, and amongst them I found a large document with Hebrew writing and the words ‘United Synagogue’ on the heading.” It was Phillip’s parents’ kesubah.

Realizing that Phillip might have been Jewish, something he had never mentioned, Louise investigated how a Jewish person should be buried and discovered that a Jewish person should never be cremated. She went back to the caretaker and told him of her discovery. She then proceeded to call the nearby Westgate United Synagogue but got no answer. She even drove over to the synagogue but it was locked.

The next morning, Thursday, Joe, the custodian of Clock House, a tall residential building on Stamford Hill Road that has offices of the Hackney Council on the lower floors, made his way to work.

Mr. Perlman, who lives in Clock House, was on the way to Shacharis, and passing Joe on his way out, greeted him with a friendly “Good morning.” Joe called him back and told him about the person who was lying in the Hackney morgue who might very possibly be Jewish. Together, they contacted Mr. Kahn of Misaskim, and Joe, who had also found Phillip’s mother’s passport and her death certificate, dated 1984, went back to get the kesubah from Louise and brought it to Mr. Kahn.

Mr. Kahn then contacted Mr. Shlomo Sinitzky from the Adas Yisroel Burial Society. “The proof we got about Phillip’s Jewish identity was coincidental,” recounted Mr. Sinitzky at the meeting. “We reckoned that since Phillip’s mother, Anna Berman, was married by the United Synagogue, chances are that she was also buried Orthodox. I called all the United Synagogue burial societies, but they didn’t have her. I tried Federation and also didn’t get anywhere. I finally remembered about one other Orthodox cemetery — Western Cemetery in Broxbourne — and finally I got somewhere. They had someone buried in the cemetery with the name Anna Berman who [had] passed away in 1984. They ‘happened’ to have someone at the cemetery right then, so they sent him to check and on her tombstone it said that she was mourned by a devoted son. We had found Phillip’s mother. When I called the coroner’s office, they first told me that I might be late, because they had already given permission for a pauper’s funeral. They called me back a few minutes later. ‘You can go get him — he’s still there. The cremation hasn’t been done yet!’ they told me. What a relief it was, after all that, to have saved him at the last minute!”

Around 50 people from the Stamford Hill community attended the funeral of the meis mitzvah, which left from the funeral home on Belfast Road, North London. Joe, the Hackney caretaker, also came to pay his last respects.

Fourteen people then accompanied the aron to the Western Cemetery in Broxbourne, where Phillip Berman was laid to rest not far from his mother’s grave. He merited having Kaddish recited at his graveside, and the men did the same at his mother’s grave, for probably the first time since she passed away more than 30 years ago.

Louise, who attended the burial, couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw how complete strangers attended Phillip’s funeral just because he was also a Jew. “He must be so happy about it, up there in heaven,” she said.

At the gathering at the Kahn home this Sunday, Louise was presented with a huge chocolate arrangement, together with a beautiful letter from Misaskim acknowledging what she did for Mr. Berman both during his lifetime and after his death — most importantly, being instrumental in saving him from being cremated and bringing him to Jewish burial. Louise couldn’t contain her tears of emotion when she read the beautiful letter. “These are tears of joy,” she assured us between the sobs. “I’m so happy that this sad story came to a happy conclusion.” Her mother sat at her side, gushing with happiness.

After davening Minchah and reciting Kaddish, Mishnayos were learned l’iluy nishmas the niftar and all parted amicably, marvelling again at the hashgachah that was so apparent all the way.

“I couldn’t understand why it was taking Hackney so long to arrange the funeral,” said Louise. “It was already almost four months, and it should not usually take more than three, but there was obviously a good reason,” she concluded. All agreed that Phillip must have had a special merit to have been given a Jewish burial at the last minute. “Maybe it was his mitzvas kibbud em, as he seems to have been a devoted son,” suggested Mr. Kahn.

Misaskim London would like to find someone to say Kaddish during the first year for Phillip — whose Hebrew name they are still hoping to discover — and plan to erect a matzeivah on his grave, as well as to clean his mother Anna’s matzeivah.
Fortunately, it is not often nowadays that the mitzvah of burying a meis mitzvah presents itself, yet this is exactly what happened in Stamford Hill last Tuesday afternoon when Mr. Phillip Mark Berman was buried at the Western Cemetery in Broxbourne by Misaskim of Stamford Hill.

Mr. Phillip Berman of London Fields, Hackney, in London, was unknown to the Jewish community. He was discovered to be Jewish just days before he was set to be cremated by Hackney Council. He merited coming to kever Yisrael through a chain of incredible hashgachah pratis events, in which the heroine is the 30-year-old proprietress of a café in London Fields, Hackney, Ms. Louise Brooks.

On Sunday evening, coinciding with what would be the end of the shivah for the man who doesn’t seem to have had any relatives to sit shivah for him, a gathering took place arranged by Mr. Yisroel Kahn of Misaskim to honor Louise and present her with the Jewish community’s heartfelt thanks for her efforts. The Kahns kindled a yahrtzeit candle for the neshamah of the meis mitzvah, about whom the halachah says hakol krovav — everyone is his relative. After hearing the story again, a minyan davened Minchah and recited Kaddish for Phillip Mark Berman.

Hamodia had the privilege to attend this memorable and moving meeting and we present here the story as it was heard directly from the people involved. Sitting around the dining room table at the Kahn home on Hillside Road were Mr. and Mrs. Kahn and their children; Louise Brooks together with her proud mother; Mr. Shlomo Sinitsky of Adass Yisroel Burial Society; Mr. Perelman; several Misaskim volunteers and other members of the Stamford Hill community.

“I’m still in awe,” said Louise, amazed over how the Jewish community cares so much for a co-religionist, even one whom they had never ever met. “He’ll arrive up there [in heaven] and won’t believe what he sees,” she exclaimed, half joking, half serious.

Louise had known Phillip Berman for five years, since she started working for Claire at her café on Landsdown Drive in London Fields, Hackney. Phillip was a regular customer at the café, coming in every day for what seems to have been his only source of social interaction. Last year, when Louise took over the café from Claire, who had become unwell and decided to retire, Phillip seemed to worry that he would no longer be welcome to spend his days at the café. Louise swiftly but good-naturedly reassured him that he could stay and sit there for as long as he wanted. Every day, she would chat with him and keep the lonely old man company.

During the cold and snowy spell the last week of February, Louise realized she hadn’t seen Phillip for several days, since the weekend. This was unusual for the man who suffered from diabetes and arthritis and walked with the help of two walking sticks. “He didn’t usually go anywhere,” she says, “and surely not in such treacherous weather.”

On Thursday evening, March 1 — the evening of Purim — while Jews were celebrating at their Purim seudos, Louise and her friend braved the cold weather and walked over to Phillip’s flat. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night without making sure he was OK,” she said matter-of-factly. “Maybe something happened to him, maybe he needs food and he can’t get out. So we walked over to the council block where I knew he lived. I didn’t know which one was his flat, but I knew it was facing the café, so I rang all the bells on that side and finally, someone who knew where Phillip lived answered and let us in, and he took us to his flat. We rang and knocked, but there was no answer. I was really worried, so I called the police. It didn’t take them long to break the door open and that’s when we found him ....” Tragically, he was no longer alive.

Louise waited until the Hackney morgue sent someone to deal with the deceased and then kept in touch to know when he would be buried. She was told that since there seemed to be no family, he would be given what is called a “pauper’s funeral” and be cremated, and that it would be within three months. Over the next four months, she called the morgue on a weekly basis to make sure she didn’t miss the funeral, and was distressed when three months passed and nothing had happened yet.

On Wednesday, June 27, almost four months after Phillip was found, Louise was outside her café at 4:30 p.m. relaxing. “I believe that everything that happens is for a reason. There really is no explanation as to why I was still there at that hour,” related Louise. “The café is open every day from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m., and I get there already around 6 a.m. or even before to prepare, so by the time 3 p.m. comes around I am exhausted and go straight home. I never stay longer.” But this time she was outside at 4:30, just in time to see a moving truck outside Phillip’s flat. “I immediately went over there and met Joe, the caretaker from Hackney council, who was cleaning out the flat ahead of Phillip’s cremation, which he told me would be next week. I asked him if I could go inside to retrieve some photos of him as a memory and he kindly allowed me to do so. There was a box with a lot of papers and I found a folder with the photos. When I got home I took out the photos, and amongst them I found a large document with Hebrew writing and the words ‘United Synagogue’ on the heading.” It was Phillip’s parents’ kesubah.

Realizing that Phillip might have been Jewish, something he had never mentioned, Louise investigated how a Jewish person should be buried and discovered that a Jewish person should never be cremated. She went back to the caretaker and told him of her discovery. She then proceeded to call the nearby Westgate United Synagogue but got no answer. She even drove over to the synagogue but it was locked.

The next morning, Thursday, Joe, the custodian of Clock House, a tall residential building on Stamford Hill Road that has offices of the Hackney Council on the lower floors, made his way to work.

Mr. Perlman, who lives in Clock House, was on the way to Shacharis, and passing Joe on his way out, greeted him with a friendly “Good morning.” Joe called him back and told him about the person who was lying in the Hackney morgue who might very possibly be Jewish. Together, they contacted Mr. Kahn of Misaskim, and Joe, who had also found Phillip’s mother’s passport and her death certificate, dated 1984, went back to get the kesubah from Louise and brought it to Mr. Kahn.

Mr. Kahn then contacted Mr. Shlomo Sinitzky from the Adas Yisroel Burial Society. “The proof we got about Phillip’s Jewish identity was coincidental,” recounted Mr. Sinitzky at the meeting. “We reckoned that since Phillip’s mother, Anna Berman, was married by the United Synagogue, chances are that she was also buried Orthodox. I called all the United Synagogue burial societies, but they didn’t have her. I tried Federation and also didn’t get anywhere. I finally remembered about one other Orthodox cemetery — Western Cemetery in Broxbourne — and finally I got somewhere. They had someone buried in the cemetery with the name Anna Berman who [had] passed away in 1984. They ‘happened’ to have someone at the cemetery right then, so they sent him to check and on her tombstone it said that she was mourned by a devoted son. We had found Phillip’s mother. When I called the coroner’s office, they first told me that I might be late, because they had already given permission for a pauper’s funeral. They called me back a few minutes later. ‘You can go get him — he’s still there. The cremation hasn’t been done yet!’ they told me. What a relief it was, after all that, to have saved him at the last minute!”

Around 50 people from the Stamford Hill community attended the funeral of the meis mitzvah, which left from the funeral home on Belfast Road, North London. Joe, the Hackney caretaker, also came to pay his last respects.

Fourteen people then accompanied the aron to the Western Cemetery in Broxbourne, where Phillip Berman was laid to rest not far from his mother’s grave. He merited having Kaddish recited at his graveside, and the men did the same at his mother’s grave, for probably the first time since she passed away more than 30 years ago.

Louise, who attended the burial, couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw how complete strangers attended Phillip’s funeral just because he was also a Jew. “He must be so happy about it, up there in heaven,” she said.

At the gathering at the Kahn home this Sunday, Louise was presented with a huge chocolate arrangement, together with a beautiful letter from Misaskim acknowledging what she did for Mr. Berman both during his lifetime and after his death — most importantly, being instrumental in saving him from being cremated and bringing him to Jewish burial. Louise couldn’t contain her tears of emotion when she read the beautiful letter. “These are tears of joy,” she assured us between the sobs. “I’m so happy that this sad story came to a happy conclusion.” Her mother sat at her side, gushing with happiness.

After davening Minchah and reciting Kaddish, Mishnayos were learned l’iluy nishmas the niftar and all parted amicably, marvelling again at the hashgachah that was so apparent all the way.

“I couldn’t understand why it was taking Hackney so long to arrange the funeral,” said Louise. “It was already almost four months, and it should not usually take more than three, but there was obviously a good reason,” she concluded. All agreed that Phillip must have had a special merit to have been given a Jewish burial at the last minute. “Maybe it was his mitzvas kibbud em, as he seems to have been a devoted son,” suggested Mr. Kahn.

Misaskim London would like to find someone to say Kaddish during the first year for Phillip — whose Hebrew name they are still hoping to discover — and plan to erect a matzeivah on his grave, as well as to clean his mother Anna’s matzeivah.
Fortunately, it is not often nowadays that the mitzvah of burying a meis mitzvah presents itself, yet this is exactly what happened in Stamford Hill last Tuesday afternoon when Mr. Phillip Mark Berman was buried at the Western Cemetery in Broxbourne by Misaskim of Stamford Hill.

Mr. Phillip Berman of London Fields, Hackney, in London, was unknown to the Jewish community. He was discovered to be Jewish just days before he was set to be cremated by Hackney Council. He merited coming to kever Yisrael through a chain of incredible hashgachah pratis events, in which the heroine is the 30-year-old proprietress of a café in London Fields, Hackney, Ms. Louise Brooks.

On Sunday evening, coinciding with what would be the end of the shivah for the man who doesn’t seem to have had any relatives to sit shivah for him, a gathering took place arranged by Mr. Yisroel Kahn of Misaskim to honor Louise and present her with the Jewish community’s heartfelt thanks for her efforts. The Kahns kindled a yahrtzeit candle for the neshamah of the meis mitzvah, about whom the halachah says hakol krovav — everyone is his relative. After hearing the story again, a minyan davened Minchah and recited Kaddish for Phillip Mark Berman.

Hamodia had the privilege to attend this memorable and moving meeting and we present here the story as it was heard directly from the people involved. Sitting around the dining room table at the Kahn home on Hillside Road were Mr. and Mrs. Kahn and their children; Louise Brooks together with her proud mother; Mr. Shlomo Sinitsky of Adass Yisroel Burial Society; Mr. Perelman; several Misaskim volunteers and other members of the Stamford Hill community.

“I’m still in awe,” said Louise, amazed over how the Jewish community cares so much for a co-religionist, even one whom they had never ever met. “He’ll arrive up there [in heaven] and won’t believe what he sees,” she exclaimed, half joking, half serious.

Louise had known Phillip Berman for five years, since she started working for Claire at her café on Landsdown Drive in London Fields, Hackney. Phillip was a regular customer at the café, coming in every day for what seems to have been his only source of social interaction. Last year, when Louise took over the café from Claire, who had become unwell and decided to retire, Phillip seemed to worry that he would no longer be welcome to spend his days at the café. Louise swiftly but good-naturedly reassured him that he could stay and sit there for as long as he wanted. Every day, she would chat with him and keep the lonely old man company.

During the cold and snowy spell the last week of February, Louise realized she hadn’t seen Phillip for several days, since the weekend. This was unusual for the man who suffered from diabetes and arthritis and walked with the help of two walking sticks. “He didn’t usually go anywhere,” she says, “and surely not in such treacherous weather.”

On Thursday evening, March 1 — the evening of Purim — while Jews were celebrating at their Purim seudos, Louise and her friend braved the cold weather and walked over to Phillip’s flat. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep that night without making sure he was OK,” she said matter-of-factly. “Maybe something happened to him, maybe he needs food and he can’t get out. So we walked over to the council block where I knew he lived. I didn’t know which one was his flat, but I knew it was facing the café, so I rang all the bells on that side and finally, someone who knew where Phillip lived answered and let us in, and he took us to his flat. We rang and knocked, but there was no answer. I was really worried, so I called the police. It didn’t take them long to break the door open and that’s when we found him ....” Tragically, he was no longer alive.

Louise waited until the Hackney morgue sent someone to deal with the deceased and then kept in touch to know when he would be buried. She was told that since there seemed to be no family, he would be given what is called a “pauper’s funeral” and be cremated, and that it would be within three months. Over the next four months, she called the morgue on a weekly basis to make sure she didn’t miss the funeral, and was distressed when three months passed and nothing had happened yet.

On Wednesday, June 27, almost four months after Phillip was found, Louise was outside her café at 4:30 p.m. relaxing. “I believe that everything that happens is for a reason. There really is no explanation as to why I was still there at that hour,” related Louise. “The café is open every day from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m., and I get there already around 6 a.m. or even before to prepare, so by the time 3 p.m. comes around I am exhausted and go straight home. I never stay longer.” But this time she was outside at 4:30, just in time to see a moving truck outside Phillip’s flat. “I immediately went over there and met Joe, the caretaker from Hackney council, who was cleaning out the flat ahead of Phillip’s cremation, which he told me would be next week. I asked him if I could go inside to retrieve some photos of him as a memory and he kindly allowed me to do so. There was a box with a lot of papers and I found a folder with the photos. When I got home I took out the photos, and amongst them I found a large document with Hebrew writing and the words ‘United Synagogue’ on the heading.” It was Phillip’s parents’ kesubah.

Realizing that Phillip might have been Jewish, something he had never mentioned, Louise investigated how a Jewish person should be buried and discovered that a Jewish person should never be cremated. She went back to the caretaker and told him of her discovery. She then proceeded to call the nearby Westgate United Synagogue but got no answer. She even drove over to the synagogue but it was locked.

The next morning, Thursday, Joe, the custodian of Clock House, a tall residential building on Stamford Hill Road that has offices of the Hackney Council on the lower floors, made his way to work.

Mr. Perlman, who lives in Clock House, was on the way to Shacharis, and passing Joe on his way out, greeted him with a friendly “Good morning.” Joe called him back and told him about the person who was lying in the Hackney morgue who might very possibly be Jewish. Together, they contacted Mr. Kahn of Misaskim, and Joe, who had also found Phillip’s mother’s passport and her death certificate, dated 1984, went back to get the kesubah from Louise and brought it to Mr. Kahn.

Mr. Kahn then contacted Mr. Shlomo Sinitzky from the Adas Yisroel Burial Society. “The proof we got about Phillip’s Jewish identity was coincidental,” recounted Mr. Sinitzky at the meeting. “We reckoned that since Phillip’s mother, Anna Berman, was married by the United Synagogue, chances are that she was also buried Orthodox. I called all the United Synagogue burial societies, but they didn’t have her. I tried Federation and also didn’t get anywhere. I finally remembered about one other Orthodox cemetery — Western Cemetery in Broxbourne — and finally I got somewhere. They had someone buried in the cemetery with the name Anna Berman who [had] passed away in 1984. They ‘happened’ to have someone at the cemetery right then, so they sent him to check and on her tombstone it said that she was mourned by a devoted son. We had found Phillip’s mother. When I called the coroner’s office, they first told me that I might be late, because they had already given permission for a pauper’s funeral. They called me back a few minutes later. ‘You can go get him — he’s still there. The cremation hasn’t been done yet!’ they told me. What a relief it was, after all that, to have saved him at the last minute!”

Around 50 people from the Stamford Hill community attended the funeral of the meis mitzvah, which left from the funeral home on Belfast Road, North London. Joe, the Hackney caretaker, also came to pay his last respects.

Fourteen people then accompanied the aron to the Western Cemetery in Broxbourne, where Phillip Berman was laid to rest not far from his mother’s grave. He merited having Kaddish recited at his graveside, and the men did the same at his mother’s grave, for probably the first time since she passed away more than 30 years ago.

Louise, who attended the burial, couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw how complete strangers attended Phillip’s funeral just because he was also a Jew. “He must be so happy about it, up there in heaven,” she said.

At the gathering at the Kahn home this Sunday, Louise was presented with a huge chocolate arrangement, together with a beautiful letter from Misaskim acknowledging what she did for Mr. Berman both during his lifetime and after his death — most importantly, being instrumental in saving him from being cremated and bringing him to Jewish burial. Louise couldn’t contain her tears of emotion when she read the beautiful letter. “These are tears of joy,” she assured us between the sobs. “I’m so happy that this sad story came to a happy conclusion.” Her mother sat at her side, gushing with happiness.

After davening Minchah and reciting Kaddish, Mishnayos were learned l’iluy nishmas the niftar and all parted amicably, marvelling again at the hashgachah that was so apparent all the way.

“I couldn’t understand why it was taking Hackney so long to arrange the funeral,” said Louise. “It was already almost four months, and it should not usually take more than three, but there was obviously a good reason,” she concluded. All agreed that Phillip must have had a special merit to have been given a Jewish burial at the last minute. “Maybe it was his mitzvas kibbud em, as he seems to have been a devoted son,” suggested Mr. Kahn.

Misaskim London would like to find someone to say Kaddish during the first year for Phillip — whose Hebrew name they are still hoping to discover — and plan to erect a matzeivah on his grave, as well as to clean his mother Anna’s matzeivah.

(Hamodia)