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Donna

Eva Landsman in nthe marriage I posted was married to Benjanmin Rubinstein, no relation to Jacob.
Will have a look in the military for Jacob.

Sue

Hi all. Jack Goodwin was the brother of my great grandmother Annie Goldstein. I have photos and other memorabilia relating to Jack and a few photos and a small amount of info relating to his family. His parents were Davis and Miriam Goldstein, who came over to England from Poland around 1884. They lived in Booth Street, which is now Hanbury Street. Jack was a street fighter who became a top boxer. That ended though when he contracted TB and spent a year in hospital. When he recovered, he became a trainer, running the career of his little brother Joe Goodwin. Jack went on to become one of the very top trainers in world boxing. He wrote two books, one of which is a lovely book on his boxing exploits entitled "Myself and My Boxers" (1924). It was approx £100 on Amazon last time I looked, although I managed to get a copy from the USA for 70 dollars. Best wishes to you all.

Mark Daydy

Hi all - This is Jack Goodwin in his own words. Enjoy.

The first open boxing competition I entered was fought before the most remarkable audience I ever had – a mixed one of human beings and wild animals! Wonderland was run by Captain Roland as a menagerie, with Mr Wood as manager. The latter thought it a good idea to hold boxing contests there on Saturday afternoons, and for a start he advertised a competition at 8st. 6lbs., the winner to get a two-guinea gold medal. The whole affair was to be completed in one afternoon.

I swaggered into the dressing-room with two of my pals, whom I had brought in free. When all the competitors were stripped I looked them over. I was the smallest and youngest among them, but there was only one I didn't like the look of, and I thought to myself: I hope to goodness I don't have to meet him!" Our names were all put into a hat, and sure enough mine came out first with the repulsive-looking bruiser I had secretly feared!

We were conducted to the ring. I was the first of two boxers to put gloves on at Wonderland, which for years afterwards was the second most famous boxing-hall in England. As I looked round, lions and tigers roared at me. The cages were ranged around the circular hall, with the public and, thank goodness, iron bars, between them and the fighters.

In the few brief seconds while we were being introduced I took further stock of my opponent and thought he looked rather slow. So when the gong went I jumped up from my chair, punched him twice and he went down for the full count.

Three more opponents I knocked out in a round apiece, and then came the final. I began to think I was a regular gladiator, especially as a huge man with a commanding presence and a fur coat thrust three coins into my hand. I rushed into the dressing-room, certain he had given me three half-crowns, and afraid to let anyone else guess what I had been given, but when I saw it was only pennies I began to think fur coats were not always a mark of greatness.

My opponent in the final only lasted half a round. As soon as he was counted out, Mr. Wood made a speech and presented me with the medal.
“Would you mind giving me the money instead?" I asked. “No, my boy, this is honour for you. Have it pinned on your waistcoat for the girls to admire," he replied. “First of all I want a waistcoat," I parried impudently. “It's worth two guineas," he went on.

“Well, give me thirty shillings for it," I offered, fighting to the last.
But old Wood absolutely refused, so I took the medal and rushed out of Wonderland to a pawnbroker's on the opposite side of the road. I asked for £2 on the medal, but the most I could squeeze out of the man behind the counter was 15s.

With the money and the pawn-ticket in my pocket, I went back to Mr. Wood and said: “I thought you said that medal was worth two guineas? The pawnbroker wouldn't give me more than I5s. Give me 5s for the ticket."
The manager stood his ground, but an outsider who heard the conversation gave me half-a-crown for the ticket “as a speculation," and I never saw the medal again.

Thus I became a professional.

Hello Mark, seeing as a month has gone by Donna mightn't be looking back on here. Why not click on her name and send her a direct message telling her you've posted some info for her?

It would be such a shame if she missed seeing it.

This is what I got from my auntie....
Re our maternal grandparents, I now remember that our grandpa's name was Joe, and his brother, the famous boxing trainer was Jack. Our grandmother's name was Anne and she was Irish. That's all I know about her. The Goldstein brothers (later "Goodwin") were born in Russia and brought to England as children.

I would think grandpa was born around 1880 so he probably won the Lonsdale Belt in his 20's, which would be 1900 to 1910. That might help in your search. I'll search out some photos, make copies and send

Apparently when Jack Goodwin died there was a big ceremonial funeral in the east end of London.

Re our paternal grandparents, our dad's father died before I was born and I don't know too much about Nanny Lulu as we called her. She died in her sixties. They had five children. Florrie, the youngest died of TB at 21. Then there was our dad, William, and then Bert, Sydney, Arthur and Nellie, who died of cancer in her fifties.

Interested in anything you guys have

My name before marriage was Meadows and I am the great niece of Ellen Goodwin, Aunt Nell. She was my grandfather William's sister. She wasn't Jewish but converted to marry Jack the love of her life. They had no children and after his death she lived in Shoreditch with her younger sister Maud. She died of cancer in the 1950s. I hope this fills in some of the gaps.

My grandfather was William Meadows brother of Ellen (Aunt Nell). I understand she fell in love with Jack and converted to the Jewish religion to marry him. They had no children and lived with her younger sister Maud near Shoreditch Church until her death of cancer in the 1950s. I visited her regularly and was always fascinated by her story.