05

From chapter: ‘Quayside’

Written in a ‘journalistic’ style.



           I was born on the 6th of January 1942, in Blyth, Northumberland, a coastal town on the south bank of the River Blyth, after which the place was named. We lived on the east end, hard by the port.

           The port of Blyth is ancient, going back to the 1100s, but most of the town is newer, built on industry from the 1700s on. Shipbuilding was one of those industries, and coal mining, the line of work in my family, was the other.

           The men in my family all worked in the mines. My mam’s dad, Norman; my dad’s dad, Len; and my dad, Stan. Stan was a ‘timber leader’, going around distributing planks and props and the like. In time, I was to follow my family into the mines, but for the time being, I spent my days with my family at home and around the town.

           But even for those of us who spent our days above ground, the mine featured prominently in all of our lives. During the summers when I was little, the mine would cease operations for a week and the pit ponies would be brought up to graze on grass. When the week was up, no one could catch those ponies to bring them back down; they’d jump hedges and run down to the beach! Men would get broken arms and legs trying to catch them. In fact, more people were injured getting the ponies back than in the pit itself.