The photograph of Jacob (Jack) Ruda
on the left was taken December 6th,
1935 outside Ruda’s Wet Fish Shop, 16 Wentworth Street, East London.
Wentworth Street together with Middlesex Street is better known as
Petticoat Lane. Jack Ruda was my grandfather, one of ten brothers
and two sisters. I believe eight brothers worked in the fish shop
which in those days provided a living for them and their families. I
also recall that one of the staff was Jack Solomons, the boxing
promoter, before he went on to better and less fishier things. Jack
was the son of Harris and Pearl Ruda of Sky Peals Estate, also known
as Ruda’s Farm of Chingford, Essex, which is no longer there, but,
there is apparently a road called Sky Peals Road and a narrow lane
called Jews Passage which went through the original orchard of the
farm. What is so incredible about this photograph is my grandfather
in his full lounge suit with waistcoat, sweater, collar and tie, all
worn under what must have been a white coat. He had on his usual grey
trilby which in the summer was replaced by his habitual Panama hat.
I remember these coats, absolutely caked with fish
scales and dried blood because a lot of the fish were freshwater carp
and bream and they lived in giant tanks at the back of the shop.
One
story which always amused the family, was of a woman who bought a live
carp for Rosh Hashanah and took it home to kill and cook it. Weeks
later she was asked if the fish was good and she said, it was still
swimming in her bath as she had not the heart to kill it! Like the
white coats, not much got washed - including people! I recall my
grandfather, my uncles Sam, Nat, Jimmy, Teddy all coming home on a
Friday afternoon, laden with greasy matt bags full of fish, bagels,
rich yellow cream cheese, Vienna's, herring and picked green cucumbers
fished out of large barrels from the deli’s in the Lane with bagels
bought from Polly the bagel seller. Polly sat opposite the shop
outside Marks delicatessen,
always wearing black, with a sacking apron and I, even
then, wondered if she lived permanently in these stiff formal clothes
and boots and whether she ever took them off. It was a rich diet,
full of cholesterol by today’s standards, but what a memory of such
wonderful food – nothing today tastes like those feasts. They have
all gone now, except one uncle, a son of my grandfather.
