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| NEWS | BY DAN CARRIER |
 Jack Firestein |
Born in Leslie Street, Whitechapel, in 1917, he left school when he was 14 to follow his father into the tailoring trade. His parents, who had come to England as Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe, had five other children and it was with his older brother Phil that Jack first became interested in the Communist politics that attracted many in the East End during the 1930s slump. He and Phil ran a Communist bookshop called Carters – and Jack discovered a passion for the trade he would spend much of his life working in. But even though he only worked as a tailor in his youth, the skill was to stay with him. Even in his 80s friends would turn to him when they needed sewing done. He had relatives in Camden, and as a boy Jack used to cycle from Whitechapel once a week to visit an uncle who lived in Albany Street. Jack, who was awarded a Military Medal during the war, would joke that he was a “D-Day Dodger” – and would often burst into the song of the same name when asked about his war record. He missed the invasion of northern Europe as his regiment, the Royal Fusiliers, were fighting their way up through Italy. He was lucky to escape with his life. In the battle of Anzio, where Allied troops landed on Italian beaches, Jack was shot. A bullet passed through his body – and as he lay injured he was taken captive by German soldiers. But even laid low with a gaping wound, he could not resist arguing about politics. Treated by a Hungarian doctor and in immense pain, Jack was ready to argue about the merits of the communist guerrilla leader Tito. When German soldiers came round to taking a roll call after catching Jack, his ready wit got him out of trouble. Close friend Gloria Lazenby said: “He was asked his name and was worried because Firestein was a well-known German Jewish name. “It made him nervous, so he said: ‘My name? Well, it’s like Jones and Smith – Firestein, a good proper old English name.” His confused captors decided to continue along the line without asking any more questions. Ms Lazenby added: “Jack did not mind talking about his experiences. When the end of the fighting came, he recalled walking up to the guards and saying goodbye and just strolling out of the camp and heading for home. “The guards were too scared by then to get in the way of prisoners, so he just left and got to northern France where he hitched a lift home in a boat.” He was awarded the Military Medal in 1944, with the citation honouring his “gallant and distinguished services in Italy”. After the war he went back to book-selling, running a stall at the Unity Theatre that allowed him to follow his twin passions – politics and the dramatic arts. His book-selling took him first to a shop in Willesden and later in Brewer Street, Soho. Jack ran the Unity Folk Club, which is still going strong, and in the 1950s became a music impresario. He managed skiffle groups based at the theatre, once winning a year’s supply of ice cream in a band competition – a prize no one claimed because of a lack of freezers among the band members. As well as selling books, he worked as a chauffeur for trade union leader Clive Jenkins and as a distributor for the Camden New Journal, a job he kept up into his 80s. His left-wing politics led him into the Communist Party before the war, but he became disillusioned after the USSR suppressed the Hungarian uprising in 1956. He joined the Labour Party and was still a member at his death – although his occasional disillusionment with the party led him to join the recently formed Respect Party without renouncing his Labour Party card. He was also involved in the Camden Town Neighbourhood Advice Centre in Greenland Road, working as a trustee on the board, and dedicated many hours to helping others with welfare problems or those just in need of a chat. One theme that was constant alongside Jack’s politics was his love of performance and visual arts. He was a founding member of the London Socialist Film Co-op as well as well as working for the Unity Theatre and the Folk Club. And just days before he died, he was keeping nurses and doctors entertained with renditions of Red Army songs, music hall numbers and Socialist anthems. Jack’s funeral takes place today (Thursday) at 2pm at the City of London Crematorium in Aldersbrooke Road, E12. |
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