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Just before the High Holy Days in 1931, the Alameda County sheriff slapped a padlock on the doors of Oakland's Temple Beth Abraham. The congregation was delinquent in its mortgage payments and about to lose its home.

An emergency meeting was called. Ten members put up $500 each to save the building. That money, coupled with the political influence of temple president Sol Quittman, allowed the synagogue doors to re-open for the High Holy Days. However, the congregation remained $2,500 behind in payments to the Bank of Italy, which held its mortgage.

Kol Nidre services were highlighted by the auctioning off of aliyahs to pay the bill.

"It was pretty dramatic," recalls Leonard Quittman, who was 16 at the time.

The impromptu saving of the building is perhaps the most dramatic example of Beth Abraham's perseverance.

From shaky Depression years, the synagogue is now firmly planted on solid ground — boasting 340 member families, a successful preschool, an endowment fund of $750,000 and its first baby-boomer president.

Beth Abraham is celebrating its 90-year anniversary with a number of events, including a dinner earlier this month honoring past presidents, a photo display of key moments in history and an upcoming birthday party.

Rabbi Mark Diamond, who has led Beth Abraham for six years, attributes the congregation's longevity to its ability to change.

"Any congregation that's 90 years old has its ups and downs. Every congregation of that age has growth points, strengths, changes in leadership, controversy. It's a cycle of ebbs and flows," said Diamond. "Right now we're on one of those exciting upward trends."

When the synagogue first formed in 1907, members met at a building on Fourth and Harrison streets. They were forced to move to make way for the Posey Tube, the tunnel linking Oakland and Alameda. Members met at a private home for a while, then rented the Masonic Temple on Grand Avenue before purchasing their current site at 327 MacArthur Blvd.

However, location isn't the only transformation the congregation has had to contend with. Change in Conservative standards — such as calling women to the bimah to read Torah — could have shaken the traditional synagogue. Instead, for the most part, Beth Abraham embraced the shift.

The congregation claims one woman past president, Jo Budman. And later this month a class of 10 female congregants will become b'not mitzvah.

"Women are such a vital part of our congregation. We couldn't exist without them," said Quittman, 81.

Similarly, the congregation has altered its services to appeal to greater numbers of people. One Saturday each month, the traditional morning service is scrapped for a lay-led one filled with music and Torah interpretations.

"I just sit back and kvell," Diamond said. "By and large, our older members, our veterans, are remarkably open to change. They may not like the change in service, but they like to see young people coming to services.

"I think they figure, if young people are coming in, we must be doing something right."

Younger members aren't just attending services, they're taking the reins of leadership, too. Among them is Chuck Bernstein, outgoing president.

Just 46, the Piedmont resident said the most noteworthy aspect of his presidency is "I'm the first baby boomer to have been president.

"People of our generation have realized it's our turn to step up."

Bernstein also retains a commitment to keeping older members involved too.

"They are indispensable," he said.

Besides providing endless energy, older congregants serve as mentors, those with the foresight to provide the synagogue with a firm foundation to grow upon.

For instance, Quittman never forgot watching the auctioning off of aliyahs. He thought "selling aliyahs is terrible. To bid for an honor? It's just not the right way."

So when he became president in 1976, Quittman set up an endowment fund.

His first Kol Nidre as president, Quittman announced a goal of raising $250,000 within 10 years. The money would be unavailable until the goal was met. Only then would the interest be available to the congregation leadership for funding projects.

"Our endowment now has three-quarter of a million dollars," Quittman said. "It's the backbone of stability for our congregation."