Memory lane

19th December 2011

I lived with my parents in Cwmbran in 1931/32 when I was 2 or 3. years old. My earliest childhood memory is of playing in a load of sand which had been delivered in front of the house in readiness to pebble dash the house where we lived........... and finding shells. I had a Brother who was 10 years older than me (sadly killed May 28th 1940 on the retreat to Dunkirk ) and my Mother always warned him not to take me to the `CLAYPIT` which must have been nearby. Despite the warning he must have taken me as I remember lots of dragon flies there. Perhaps butterflies as I seem to remember a butterfly net. My brother would have been 12/13 years old .

Another family story that I remember is that we had black-beetles in the house which came from the living room fireplace jambs which were loose.. My Dad overcame the problem by cementing the jambs in place. Subsequently ,in a conversation my Mum had with her neighbour when praising the her husband's solution to the problem........the neighbour said " Yes, they have now come into my house !

During the war years I frequently travelled by bus to Newport to stay with relatives.........from Abergavenny where we were then living via Pontypool from the Clarence and could always pick out the house where we had lived ........as it was on the bus route in those days..........l eft hand side of the road going towards Newport.

In more recent years I believe I found it once when driving my car but was not able to stop & park .............It seemed to be a Chinese or Indian restaurant.? I must try harder on my next visit.to my cousin with Dementia who is in her late 80's in Leadon Court care home..

I would be pleased to hear from anyone with comments , interest or information.. Email: KeithEricAllen@aol.com

15th October 2011

Keith Smith relates:

What a fantastic web site! Can't believe how much information I share with your contributors.

My full name is Adrian Keith Smith - although I was known as `Snowy` in my younger days.Back in the 1940's I lived in The Wern, which comprised a row of three buildings - couple of whitewashed cottages and farm - located in a huge meadow above Fairwater Avenue (or 'Newtown' as we called it).

Looking from the front (in other words, looking up towards the mountain), we were on the left, the Salter's (Alan being around my age, and his sister Marian a little older), and Peterson's farm on the right. Access by vehicle was via a lane which ran from Ton Road (just below where Fairwater High School is now). The lane took a sharp right turn at Peterson's farm and continued up to Ty Canol farm.

My father was from Crumlin, but my mother was from a large Cwmbran family (the Vincent's of Two Locks Road, fourth house along from Ebenezer Chapel). My Grandfather was the town window cleaner for many years. Just to mention a couple of his daughters - one married into the Peterson family (Lil and Fred) and Pennells - all of whom lived in Llandowlais Street.

Just a couple of things to add. Someone listed school teachers from Llantarnam School (which I attended for a year, before moving to Abersychan Grammar). Could I add Vernon Powell (Geography) who is my next door neighbour in Coedeva? Unfortunately, Vernon is not too well these days, but I'm sure all who remember him will wish him well.

One of your regular contributors is Chippy Chapman. Chippy was the drummer in the first band I joined (The Raiders, I believe). We practiced in the old hut in Court Farm. However, I was soon whisked away to join another popular group at that time - Gerry and The Rebels. Glad to say that, even at 67, I still perform very regularly with a local band (The Beavers).

I used to call for Curly Prosser (from 'Newtown') on a Sunday morning to walk down to Pen y waun Chapel. By coincidence, I was recently contacted by a near neighbour of his, Harold Channon, who now lives in New Zealand.

I have attached a 1952 school photo from St. Dials and a computer image I created of The Wern (there being no photos in existence, as far as I know).

On this photo (which I think was the St Dials School 'Festival of Britain' gymnastics team):

Back row: Graham Smith, Christopher Lewis ('Get down Shep', David Roberts,Robert Jordan

Middle row: Paul Wanty, John Tanner, Roddy Perriman, Lesley Peard, Malcolm Howlett

Front row: David Rudd, Huw George, Malcolm Fisher, Jeffrey West (another near neighbour), Glyn Young, John Brooke, and myself.

.. The Wern ..

24th September 2011

13th May 2011

Graham (Ianto) Skuse relates: A couple of years ago I submitted an article called (I had a dream) which even my Grand Children appreciate, well believe it or not I have just had another one (dream of course)

I dreamt that I had been granted one wish and one wish only but the wish had to appertain to the place of my boyhood which of course was Cwmbran, I closed my eyes and wished and when I opened them again all the houses and soulless shops had disappeared and despite the fact that many of them were great people all the’ New Townies’ had returned to the various Valley’s from whence they came.

I wandered down Grange Road stopping off at Thomas Street and Somerset Street I went back to the fields where we played cricket, football and simple tree climbing, I met up with long lost family friends such as Gareth Hughes, Lennie Mancer, Russell Baldwin, Tony Loader, Dai Fields, Mansell Jones, Spud Waters, Tommy Bodenham and many more.

In the first part of my dream it was summer so we all walked down to the’ Eighties’ for a cooling swim in the clay pit, later we walked up through the Golf Links and up the slippery path for a glass of cider in the ‘Mountain Air’ and returned down the Mountain Lane and stopped in a fabulous Pub called the Queens where a wonderful old lady used to run a spotless bar was it Mrs Morton?.

In season I still see the moon daisy field that ran alongside the railway line, now I suspect part of the area known as Northville? And a little wet patch shaped like a horseshoe on Avondale Road which we called the ‘Bobby Bingo Field’.

In another season we would take our toboggans to the slope by the Railway station and see how brave we were as there were various distances and angles to slide down.

A little while later we embarked on another walk,( no busses then), to the Farmers Arms where we would camp in tents until the food run out, to get there we would walk up the Garw (is that the way to spell it) cross over the highway and on to the Farmers Arms that way.

All the way over we would be talking about the trout that we were going to catch from the stream (was it called the Lanso brook? that ran through the village and how nice it was going to taste although I never remember being successful.

I remember we walked to Twm Barlam via Henllys walked to the top of the pimple, rested and simply walked home again great simple enjoyment on the way back we would all sing along with each other something like (I love to go a wandering along the mountain track) we did not need game boys or whatever the kids call them today we were just kids enjoying themselves and if someone said (out of season) do you have a blackberry we would have thought that they were ‘Twp’

I well remember walking across Thomas Street and turning sharp right to the row of Willow trees which we called ‘The Withies’ and desperately trying to build a bridge from one tree to another, like Tarzan or building ‘A Den’ in the ditch that ran under the trees of course we never thought that the ditch would flood in the rain (stupid boy Pike).

If we did not turn sharp right at the end of Thomas Street we walked across the path and through the turnstile gate and on past the corn field that was cultivated by a farmer called Nixon? And down to Coronation Road or perhaps we would use the ‘New Path’ that ran alongside Llantarnam Grange up to the stile past the courting Oak tree (by my estimation the John Fielding is roughly where the courting Oak was).

If we were coming from the Grange Road side of the fields we would sometimes go down the road past Girlings and use the ‘Burma Path’ which was just before the main gate to Saunders Valves the scene of my first foray into the world of work.

Whilst living on Grange Road I well remember Evans the Coal, Parsons the Stick, who was the milkman? And of course there was Charles the Death oops sorry undertaker, games of football against Mrs Shellards gable end on Somerset street until the ball started to cause the soot to fall.

At the top of Somerset Street there was a field where occasionally a group of gypsies would camp much to the disgust of my old Granny Griffiths, don’t you go near the gipsies she would say, sorry granny but one of them had a cracking daughter!!

I left Cwmbran in 1963 just as the ‘Urban Vandals’ were getting fully into their stride but I still dream of the great days in Cwmbran where people had time for each other, helped each other and genuinely cared for each other, aye I am an old dreamer who will have a 0 on his age in October but as I say to my Grand Children, they cannot take my memories away, they are mine.

I am sorry to foist my memories on you old Cwmbranites and if you are a ‘New Townie’ I apologise for sending you back over the valleys.

At the moment I am thinking of another old Cwmbran way of life which I will call ‘Public Houses’ who knows when I have finished the list of jobs that the wife has kindly compiled for me over the winter months I might even get around to doing it before my next trip home.

Graham (Ianto) Skuse now residing on the beautiful island of Guernsey.

24th January 2011

John Sumner responds: Sitting here in Tasmania trying not to do day job, I was fascinated to read Ianto's comments.

Of course the Woodwork Master was Mr. Meyrick - I mixed him up with Mr. (Con) Sumption (West Mon's Woodwork Master).

Ianto asks whether I remember a bad winter?

The winter of 1947 was horrendous and I remember it for two reasons. Firstly because it lasted for 3 months with heavy snow as late as March.

We lived in Hill St and the road was periodically cleared and snow piled up on the side. On our side (the even numbers) we also cleared the pavement so we could enter the houses - they opened straight off the street. Eventually there was a bank of snow 2-3 meters high and we loved to walk along it - looking in bedroom windows - for which we were told off. Secondly, I nearly died because of the winter snows. I was weak, wimpish and spoiled rotten.

My father had died in the war (1942) and me and mam lived with her parents. I whined a lot and they gave me their sweet ration to shut me up.We lived next door to John Moore who would shout through the letter box "Ewer (your) John comin' out to play?" It was with relief that my mother would turf me out and have some peace.

John had a gang of us kids in Hill St and, in the winter of 1947 we all sallied forth, warmly dressed, down the railway line which ran along John's fields to the brickworks.

Alfa Laval was under construction but because of the huge snowdrifts work had stopped. It was "follow-my-leader" and John Moore jumped over a snow drift.

Everyone followed and when it was my turn I was too small and weighed down with clothes. So I landed in the middle of it. It covered a large drainage manhole and was half full of icy water rushing through (the thaw had started). I splashed up and saw a ring of faces above me. "Get 'is mam" one said and they all rushed off.

There were rungs up the side and I managed to haul myself up but kept falling back because my clothes were too heavy to haul myself out. The boys ran up to Hill St and John Moore shouted through the letter box "Hey missus, ewer John's dead - come quick". My mother rushed down Hill St, across Llandowlais St, past the old slaughterhouse and down the railway line.Meanwhile my recently-acquired stepfather (asleep because he was on night shift at Girlings) was wakened and came flying down behind them. He was a good sprinter (Gerry Van Talligan) and got to me first. I was carried home and put in a tin bath of hot water. I also got a packet of Smith's Crisps and was well pleased, especially when the boys thought I'd done OK.

So do I remember the big winter? ...... Sure do!

Graham `Ianto` Skuse relates: Lets stroll down `Memory Lane` yet again and try to remember the legendary ‘Harold Waters’ his bamboo cane and his fearsome temper (did you ever scrape your chair across the floor?)

I have many memories of the man but One that sticks in my mind one of which I was scared ridged, no not scared perhaps the word petrified would be better

Anyone remember ‘mwching’ off from school? I know that a late friend of mine Ken (Yorker) Powell and I were quite adept at it and one ‘mwch’ will live with me forever.

Yorker and I sat in the front row next to each other and right slap band in front of H W so it was difficult to miss roll call, or whatever we used to call it in those days but we had met two girls on a previous mwch who hailed from Newport so we devised a cunning plan (Mr Mannering) to go and see them.

We worked out that on some afternoons our lessons did not start with H W so he would have roll call the following morning, easy thinks Yorker and I all we have to do is nod our heads to say we were there in the afternoon he will never know so off to Kimberley Park we go on our bikes where unbeknown to me I was to receive my first real kiss, spent all our pocket money on the girls (bloody expensive kiss) and then we pedalled our bikes back up the canal Bank to Oakfield and the Circle respectively.

The following day we attended school as usual quite happy until a lad called ‘Stuart Townsend’ warned us that H W had rumbled us and he was waiting for us (quick change of underpants needed badly!!) not to report the fact that we had mwyched the previous day, a quick conference was called in the toilets where the executive decision taken was that Yorker had a headache and I felt sick all afternoon.

Into class we go and H W started to call out the names in alphabetical order with Powell coming just in front of Skuse, Powell called out H W no sir replied Yorker I had a bad headache sir, there was a deathly silence in the classroom and the signs were quite clear that H W was beginning to boil, now I cannot remember if there were any names on the rotas between the letter P and the letter S but the next name I remember him calling out was Skuse, no sir I was sick all afternoon, to coin a modern expression the man ‘went absolutely t ballistic’ and started literally screaming, someone told them someone told them and I want the name of the person who did it, he then proceeded to change colour going from red to purple to white so much so that my nasty little mind thought ‘he is going to have an heart attack and die but of course you cannot have an heart attack without an heart!!!

By now I am lining up the door to do a quick runner he then rushed to the storeroom at the back of the class where he kept his bamboo can hidden, not very well because Yorker and I cut it in half one day. And proceeded to run around the classroom whirling it around his head like a Dervish in a sword battle cutting the air with wild slashes of the cane, than god he never connected with anyone or he would have hurt the quite badly.

Eventually he calmed down and quite exhausted he sat at his desk but I can assure you that he had the most orderly class for the rest of the afternoon, I do not know if ‘Stuart Townsend ‘ is still with us today but if he is I will be home for a five day break in March, Stuart the first pint is on me because without you tip off I shudder to think what the outcome would have been if we had lied to him (and we would have).

Now of course we are adults and look at situations in a totally different light but I pose the question, in the world of litigation, child protection and political correctness that we live in, would H W be allowed to teach? .

.. Residing on the beautiful island of Guernsey ..

10th January 2011

Graham `Ianto` Skuse relates: Whilst browsing (as usual) through the www.Cwmbran.info web site I came across the memories of John Sumner and `duw` did they bring back a few for me, John must have been slightly older than me because I well remember Spike Jones coming into our classroom to announce the death of the King and as he turned to leave I can still see him now looking at us and adding `Long live the Queen`, I was in Mr Powell’s class (long Harry) at the time which I think was class 4 the one before the `Eleven Plus`, although my favourite teacher was Bryn Edwards

I well remember Spike Jones and to be honest I was quite scared of him he appeared to have such an aura about him and despite my being Welsh born and bred (still am) he had a much deeper and indeed richer Welsh accent than any of my family did.

It was about this time that I got involved in my first fight in the playground with a lad called Norman Millership, what it was over I do not have a clue or indeed who won or lost all I remember was being paraded before Spike which would have been worse that losing the squabble .

I too, took woodwork at St Dials and like John I was also told to put my mortise joint in the bin "nobody will ever see it Skuse" was it that bad? Probably, still is today, woodwork was never my subject, when I was there the woodwork teachers name was ‘Meyrek’ (is that the way to spell it?).

I enjoyed my time at St Dials (I think) but to this day I smile when I see the television and watch the kids opening their exam results, when I failed the `Eleven Plus` it was quite simple a teacher walked into the classroom (was it the classroom of Mr Cox?) and read out the names of the lads who had passed the rest of us sat there quite unsurprised!!

Once we had ‘Passed to Llantarnam’ we were almost a forgotten breed and the next classroom was the old Wesley Chapel room opposite Norman Cook`s paper shop where we were taught to play table tennis and also a lot of football over the park prior to moving down Llantarnam road which suited me as by now I was living down at 144 Fields Road which was convenient to say the least.

It was during this period that I was informed by a certain Harold Waters that I would end up in the `Nut and Bolt` factory and would never make anything of myself, what a horrible thing to say to a kid but then again he was a horrible man.

There are many stories I could tell you about Llantarnam but the first one that sticks in my memory is about a teacher who in 1954 was desperately trying to teach us music, its often said to me that because you are Welsh you can sing if you believe that you will believe anything I am probably tone deaf although I enjoy singing , anyway I digress, because of his shape we rather cruelly dubbed him ‘Tubby The Tuber` and in the first term he insisted that we learned verbatim the `Lincolnshire Poacher`, 37 years later a `Lincolnshire Poacher` travelled down the A38 to Plymouth University and married my youngest daughter, ironical really.

Just like John, I spent a lot of time on Cwmbran Park and I well remember Mr. Barber but it cost us nothing to play putting because I was a friend of his son Tommy, I think he had a younger brother but his name escapes me at the moment, I wonder if John can remember the winter where we had a hard frost and someone used the bowling green as a skating rink, we were all questioned thoroughly, Cwmbranites you have

my word that it was not me but they never did find the culprit when asked what we knew to a man we all said to the policeman ‘try the catholic school!!’

It has been great to `stub my toe down memory lane` once again but I am still perturbed by the lack of ‘oldie stories’ that are not coming out of Cwmbran ... Are John and I the only ones left? or have none of `our age` have grand children who can guide them along a computer board, there must be hundreds of stories stored up in old heads and in the not to distant future I will try again.

All the very best to you all in a year where my birthday has a zero in It.?

Ianto Skuse

Formerly of Pen Y Parc and Fields Road but now residing on the beautiful island of Guernsey

5th January 2011

John Sumner relates:

I'm 1940 vintage and was at St. Dial's School until 1952, when I went to West Mon. (Jones West Monmouth Grammar School). I emigrated in 1969 and have lived in Australia for most of my life.

N.b (Reader discretion required) from * to *

Because I was too wimpish to get into trouble I never had much to do with `Spike` Jones. In fact he only spoke to us twice.

* One day there was great excitement when we got to school - someone had deposited a mega turd in the bogs.

Not in the sit down place but in the open area next to where we peed - sometimes trying to lift our stream over the wall so that it fell on the teachers who were supervising playtime. It was the height of our innovation!

Back to the `turd` - half the school circled it, wondering at its height (like a cobra ready to strike!) and wondering why someone had dropped it there and not in the closets a couple of metres away. Reluctantly we left it when the bell rang.

Later that day Spike entered "Boys (he always began an oration with "Boys") someone has done a `Number 2` in the water closets. If any boy knows which boy did that he should come to my office at playtime." *

The other time I was in the "scholarship class" (teacher Mr Anderson). In came Spike. "Boys, I have bad news, the King is dead". Then he turned on his heel and swept out.

We were all of a twitter, sniffing possible half-day holidays until Mr Anderson quickly silenced us.

Someone was asking who was the woodwork master at St. Dials. It was Mr Sumption (predictable nickname "Con").

He had a system whereby she had to make sure no-one had nicked a tool. So we stood by our bench at the beginning of the class and he asked "All tools correct, boys?" to which we dutifully chimed "All tools correct sir". We did the same at the end of the class.

Con let it be known that he was appointing a monitor to help him. This was a prestigious position and he said he had his eye on several boys and it depended on how well they did that lesson.

Unfortunately I `stuffed up` my `halving joint` very badly. Con was going around the "short list" and he came to me. But I had gone well below the mark and Con shook his head "Only channel in the waste, boy!"

Moving on ...

One photograph of Llandowlais St. has the shop near the railway bridge. In the 1950s it was run by Henk Denekamp and his wife. I think their son John joined them in the business. We shopped there because we lived in the `prefabs` at Fields Road.

Juliana Denekamp (daughter) was a very smart woman and became a renowned cancer researcher. Unfortunately she died of cancer at age 58, in 2001).

But typically, she organised a conference on the aggressive cancer which was killing her.

There's is also a photo of the `putting green` at the Park. (Cwmbran) We haunted the Park - Victor Betts, Peter Dovey (Fred Dovey's son) and me.

Tennis was the main attraction but `putting` was on the list.

The manager was Mr Barber ("Ali" of course) - he lived in Hill St. where I spent the war years with my Grandparents (my Grandfather worked at Whiteheads and we had a grace-and-favour house)

Ali was always very kind to us - letting us run overtime on the courts if no-one had a booking.

Once again thanks a million for the site - lots of entries from Ianto Skuse - I remember him well - he lived in Fields Road like me.

I stumbled on this fabulous website trying not to work!

Wilf Folwell relates: I have just found your wonderful site and was looking at the map from Mr. Winifred Lewis, which is very accurate indeed, I actually remember her son Michael, whom I went to school with, at our `Lady of the Angels`, and then the `Juniors` and finally ending up at St. Albans Catholic School in Pontypool.

Looking at the map, behind Jarrett's bakery was Sherman's Betting shop which was run by Muriel Lee, and the Conservative club next to it,was run by Mike Lee, both lost their lives in the St. Joseph's Social club tragedy which I think was was in 1967.

Also at the front of Jarrett's bakery was a small shop which was also called Jarrett's, and Tottle's bakery was actually a branch of Lovell's, the famous welsh bakery chain which went bust in 1974, they were famous for being the original producer of a sweet called iced gems, which went on to become a national product and was even sold in Woolworths as a `pick`n`mix` item, but due to large breakage products ended up on the biscuit counter.

I also used to deliver the Argus to Mrs. Lewis as I was a `paper boy` for Norman Cook, who ran Cook's and I can remember 1965 when the Post Office shut down and it moved into Cook's as part of the G.P.O. plan which was linked to the opening of the new Post Office in General Rees Square, Town Centre.

What a great site, and the photo's are superb, keep up the great work.

Mrs. Winifred Lewis (nee Davis)

This map has the names of shop keepers trading in Commercial street area just before the start of the New Town Centre. At first the first shops to open did not effect trade too much-few of the traders moved to the new shops. One or two opened a new branch until they eventually moved out of the village.

By 1965 many of the old names were starting to close down mainly due to loss of trade or simply retired. commercial Street was only half of the shopping area. Victoria Street was where the banks were located. there were four banks at one time-one by one they closed and relocated in the Town Centre. Victoria Street was the first street visitors to the village entered. The railway station was at the top end of the street at it's junction with Commercial Street. The bus stop was also in Victoria street. The picture house, run by the Davies family, was here as was the Rose and Crown Pub and the only chip shop. There were several grocers in the street. W.T.C.Jones which was one of the last shops to sell food - they remained trading long after the arrival of the supermarkets.

The Police Station was a large building as were the Council Offices - situated at the lower end of the street. From the early sixties the bus company started to run through Commercial Street, until then they passed through Victoria Street onto Forgehammer and onto Pontypool. I myself had been born in Commercial Street, No.7, which was owned from the early 1900`s by my parents William and Mary Davis. They owned shops which were later sold to become the British Legion Club.

My Mother bought land at the bottom of the street, which at that time ended at No.29.they built three new shops. The largest No.35 they moved into themselves. From 1948 I took over the shops with my husband Herbert Lewis. His family also ran two other shops in the village. We closed in 1969.

By this time new traders were moving into the shops which once supplied food for Cwmbran - now hairdressers and insurance offices. Road widening had demolished many small shops in Wesley Street, Abbey Road and Oak street. Many small shops which had been housed in people's front rooms were now turned back into private houses.

Family names were going fast. Jarret's the Bakery. Eastman`s, Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins who both had shops in Wesley Street. Alderman Bill Brown the undertaker. Tottle and Boddenham`s remains but it is now called South Wales Ironmongers.

Names which are now replaced by Boot's, David Evans's, Top Shop etc. I was happy to have been part of the Old Cwmbran. We both have so many happy memories of the old village.

.. Old Cwmbran circa 1958/62 ..

John Berry relates:- When I came across the Cwmbran memories of Mrs Winifred Lewis. I have to say what I read was fascinating.

Born in in the cottages in Wesley Street myself I remember Cwmbran village just as she described it, the Cwmbran map is a little out in scale but it is mostly all there, it is a wonderful record from memory.

I further recall Clarks double fronted shop opposite the Wesleyan Chapel in Wesley Street, Dr, Fleming as the GP at the surgery in Oak Street prior to Dr, Duffy and My mothers brother Jack Jenkins opened the `fruit and veg` shop in Commercial Street prior to Smiths. The Smiths had a daughter, her name was Beryl, I wonder where she is now???

Mrs Winifred's map brings back working memories for me regarding the Elim Chapel, whilst employed with British Gas I recall removing the old solid fuel boiler that was used for heating the Chapel in winter and replacing it with a new gas installation and gas fired boiler, this would have been in the early sixty's. Prior to this conversion work there was always piles of Coke (fuel) piled up outside the Chapel boiler house.

11th May 2010

Jonathan Stanley now residing in Sydney Australia relates:
I grew up in Croesyceiliog and lived there from 1957 to 1965, then we emigrated to South Africa. I attended North Road School but spent one year at the old school on The Highway. My father John Stanley worked at G.K.N. I remember going to the works with him one Saturday morning and seeing molten metal being poured into moulds and also having a ride on the tank engine that shunted the G.K.N. works sidings. Very exciting for a seven or eight year old, I can't imagine it would be allowed these days! Would anyone have a photo of this little engine which I believe was built at G.K.N? I have always been fascinated by trains and spent a fair bit of time at the railway bridge on Edlogan Way trying to turn `half-pennies into pennies` by putting them on the track and letting the trains squash them. I remember 3d bought a lot of sweets at the local newsagent run by a Mrs. Thomas - my brother and I spent forever picking one of everything out of the big glass jars.

20th March 2010

Les Roch relates: Just a few memories I have and would like to share with my fellow Cwmbranites.

I have thought long and hard about making a contribution to the site and have come up with one or two memories I hope some people may also remember.

Who remembers the goldfish that was in the stretch of canal between Pontnewydd Park and the Fourth Lock down from the Cross Keys Pub. I remember my older brothers telling me that the Goldfish had been in the Canal for as long as they could remember possibly put there in the late 1950’s. They were told by my father that it was an unwanted fish that was a prize at the Fair. The last time I saw the goldfish was in the very early 70’s and it was huge. I wonder if anybody out there knows the secret?

I was a pupil at Upper Cwmbran School in the mid 60’s and remember the teacher who I think was called Mrs Preece. She was tall ( at least she was to a 7 year old ) with either blonde or white curly hair and smoked senior service cigarettes. I used to live on the Crossroads ( Ty Pwca Road ) and I used to see her walk past the house on her way home. I wonder if anyone else remembers her and indeed where she lived?

Answers and thoughts would be fantastic.

Email me , if you have memories of this or others of your own .... Lest we forget

When 3d was a decent allowance

You'd reach into a muddy gutter for a penny

All our male teachers wore ties and female teachers had their hair done every day and wore high heels

13th March 2009

Graham (Ianto) Skuse

On the beautiful island of Guernsey

I had a Dream ..

As the Referees Development Officer to the Guernsey Football Association I get very few free Saturday’s in the course of the football season so when Easter Saturday was free of football commitment I decided that I would look at the list of tasks that the wife had kindly done for me over the winter months, the first being the painting of the walls that enclose our property, setting a target for the morning I partly completed the painting and decided that a bath was the order of the day and a relax in the conservatory where I fell into a deep sleep and it was there I had my dream.

I dreamt it was 1946 to 1951 and I was once again living on Grange Road and playing in the fields that have now become the new but ugly and sprawling town centre, Parsons shop later to become Collys became a regular haunt to spend a penny or two on sweets or biscuits, Hawkins chip shop was a great place to have a free bag of scrag ends and old Mrs Davis was always generous with her allocation of two ounces of whatever you fancied.

I also dreamed of friends both still with us and long gone such as, Lennie Mancer, Gareth Hughes, Maurice Hughes, Russell Baldwin, Tony Loader, Tommy Bodenham, Mansell Jones, Dai Eckerly, Brian Waters, Dai Fields, there were also young ladies such as Virginia Williams, whom at the age of Six I well remember taking home to meet the head of the family’ Grannie Griffiths’ and proudly announced that we were going to get married as soon as possible, Maureen Shellard who lived on the corner of Grange Road and Somerset street and Pam Waters sister of Brian, I wonder where they all are now?

Such was my dream that it then moved on to my teenage years a lot of which was spent in Oakfield and later on in Pontnewydd, Gazzies café where you could have a cup of coffee for a tanner and sit and talk to friends for hours, over the road was the Oddfellows where John and Vera Bradshaw kept the best pint in the village and for only 1/3d, into the Pontnewydd Inn where a large scotch was roughly two bob and finally around the corner was Meakers chip shop where a fish supper cost 1/9d.

I am now starting to wake up but desperately trying to keep the dream going but to no avail ‘what do you want for lunch’ finally stirred me from a fabulous dream that I never wanted to end, I had my lunch and then started to relate to the present, not only has the shops on Grange Road gone but Grange Road itself is now just a small avenue of trees, two ounces of sweets are no longer in the vocabulary of shop keepers, a fish supper here in Guernsey is approximately Six quid, scrag ends have never been heard of, a pint now costs in excess of three pounds and a large scotch will set me back four pounds, in one local café (do they call them that now?) I recently paid two quid for a coffee and as soon as I had finished they wanted the seat to be vacated.

If you relate the prices to my first weeks wage at Saunders Valves which was £1 19s 7d you will realise why I want another dream

I am aware that some of the names that I mentioned have sadly passed on but if there are any left or indeed some I may have forgotten then please contact me on skusey@cwgsy.net and if you are driving past my house then knock the door there is only one Skuse in the local phone book and he is a bit of a dreamer!

8th March 2009

Webmaster relates:

.. Who remembers Llanyrafon Farm? ..

Back in 1970, my father bought me a yearling pony, which cost 60 guineas (Horses are traditionally sold in Guineas; One Guinea was equivalent to twenty one shillings or in today's monetary system One Pound and Five pence)) from Jimmy Clark, who was the final tenant at Greenmeadow Farm (now Greenmeadow Community Farm); He, was distinguished by his chestnut coat, flaxen mane and tail, four white stockings and broad white facial blaze so I named him `Champion` after `Champion the Wonder Horse` a children's television series in twenty six episodes set in the `Old West`. It was first broadcast in 1955-56 and starred Barry Curtis as 12-year-old Ricky North, who lived on his uncle's ranch in the American Southwest.

The Sire of my horse, was named North Fleet, stood at Stud at `Willis`s Farm` (Llanyrafon Farm) and generally produced stock, true to his own attributes, of a chestnut colour, flaxen mane and tail, and one, two, three or even four white socks like my `Champion`.

Interestingly Northfleet a registered Thoroughbred, was Sired by `Ocean Swell` who won the Derby in 1941; Northfleet`s Grand Sire also won the Derby in 1939.

Llanyrafon Manor -Stairs.

The stairs from Llanyrafon Manor were removed in the late 1800’s or early 1900’s.

They were installed in Llanyrafon House which was built on a site now occupied by the Commodore Hotel.

When Llanyrafon House became the Stirrup Country Club, the stairs were retained.

When the Stirrup Cup became the Commodore Hotel, the stairs were retained.

They remain there today.

The story goes that these stairs were brought from London having survived The Great Fire in 1666. Whatever the story the oak from which the stairs are made is extremely old..

(contributed by Marion Davies)

.. A `Re-enactment` in the grounds of Llanyrafon Manor - 1992 ..

1st March 2009

Lawson Skuse relates:

1961, a motor bike – one of many -, tea you could stand a spoon in and how to win at Cribbage in a `Den of iniquity`.

My older brother Graham recently gave me an interactive CD rom containing card games. One of the games is Cribbage and this reminded me of how I first learned to play Crib back in the late fifties.

My father had a number of motor bikes most of which were BSA Bantams.

On a Sunday morning he would take me on the back of the bike from the Pen Y Parc Prefabs (my mother always somewhat snobbishly insisted on referring to them as Five Locks rather than as the Prefabs!!!) down to Grange Road, now Somerset Street, to Prospect House where his brothers, my Uncles, Ernest (who always went as Sid) and Gwyn, lived to play Crib, drink tea and generally allow my Mother time to prepare the Sunday dinner in peace as my brother Lawrence would disappear up “his” mountain at the same time to check on wild birds and their nests leaving her alone to listen to the `Light programme` and peel, cut, chop, boil and roast dinner.

With me holding Dad tightly on the back of the bike we would ride helmetless down Pen Y Parc, on to the Cenotaph, through Pontnewydd past the White Rose cinema, a left and then a right past the `chippy`, left, over the railway bridge on down past Avondale Road and then turning right into Grange Road.

My father always drove at safe and legal limits and never took chances especially so with me on the back, unlike my older brother who rode a Tiger Cub at ridiculous speeds with or without me on the back, and especially down Blackbirds pitch where he and his friends would risk life and limb to gain greater and greater speeds.

As well as Blackbirds Pitch my brother developed a dangerous penchant for breaking the speed limit by `Pilkington’s glass` in Pontypool until crashing head first into the railings there and ending up in hospital with a fractured skull!

But I digress:

I remember a bungalow about half way down on the right hand side of Grange Road that had a veranda and upon the veranda was a wind up gramophone with a huge enamelled trumpet speaker.

I still to this day covet that machine!

Once we arrived at the Uncles’ house the kettle would be put on and the huge brown china teapot brought out.

As the water boiled Uncle Gwyn would get four cups and saucers out, fetch the sugar, milk (often condensed if they had run out of real milk) and a couple of “Disciple” spoons which were so `tannin` stained they were nearly black, while Uncle Sid would drape a cloth over the dining table and place the cards, Cribbage board and match stick Crib pegs upon it and put an ashtray in the middle of the table.

The ashtray was actually one of my father’s discarded pipe tobacco tins (we recycled a lot more back then than we realised) and it would be `chock a block` with Woodbine stubs by the end of the session (these in turn were put in the compost bin!!!).

The stubs were not put in by me I hasten to add!

Kettle boiled, tea brewed and poured and the game would start.

Now, I was taught the rules of Crib from about the age of seven and had, by the time I was ten, become quite an adept as the `brothers Grimm` asked for and gave no quarter in Crib and Uncle Sid would always ask for me to partner him.

Uncle Sid was the master of Crib and his name is emblazoned in letters of gold on the Pontnewydd Workingman’s club Cribbage championship board!

He could shuffle cards at a speed equalling that of Tachyon particles and I now wonder why our cards didn’t appear on the table before he actually began shuffling!!!

The only thing faster than his E=MC2 shuffle was the speed with which he could shift his peg around the board.

It was always worth checking his hand’s score against the number of holes pegged if you were on the opposition.

As his team mate I knew he was stealing at least two points whenever he turned a corner but as he did so he would always baffle the opposition, Uncle Gwyn and Dad, with an astounding or ridiculous statement that left them confused.

“Fifteen four and the rest don’t score” he would say as he checked his hand.

However, when he turned the corner he would peg six and say “The old man was a better poacher than Geriant Thomas in his day”

Dad and or Uncle Gwyn would fall for it: “The old man never poached in his life you dull bugger” one of them would say.

“I remember him bringing home rabbits” Uncle Sid would respond as he shuffled and dealt the next hand.

“Are you confusing him with Floss Griffiths’ brother, John the Poacher?” Dad might ask followed by Uncle Gwyn:

“He’d buy rabbit from him”

Too late, they had fallen for it and were already counting their points in the fresh hand.

He would wink at me and silently prepare for the next corner.

“Did you know that Churchill visited Fielding VC’s grave and got drunk in the Greenhouse?”

“Can glass melt in an ordinary fire?”

“Vera Lynn kissed me once”

“How do you ride a bike upstairs?”*

He was the master and I studied his ways with diligence.

I am telling the truth when I say that I once saw him steal two holes after declaring “19, bloody lean” (for the uninitiated, you cannot score 19 with a Cribbage hand and a declaration of 19 is used to indicate a non scoring hand)

It was a rare Sunday we lost!

Over the games they would discuss family matters, local matters and global matters and drink cup after cup of Hornimans loose leaf tea that was so strong by the end of the pot you could bend it in your hands!

They never shied away from a subject or demurred on account of me and would prattle on about family skeletons and such subjects as the sexuality of a local vicar, `Iron Hoof `Howells the choir boys friend, or the father of the unwed mother in number seven (not Iron hoof Howells, I can assure you!).

I learned more about life at that table that most kids my age could in half a lifetime!

Whether it was politics, religion life or death, nothing was sacred save winning the game and I had Uncle Sid on my side which was actually better that having God on your side as God would not steal holes around corners!

Around mid day Dad and I would say our farewells and ride back to the Prefab, Lawrence would have arrived home from his mountain and dinner would be soon on the table.

My brother Lawrence always refused the offer of a mornings Cribbage in Grange Road, describing the house as a `den of iniquity` (I like to think that his ten year old tongue was at least partly in his cheek)

Many years later I won a Cribbage championship at college and I think I have to thank Uncle Sid for that!

The force was strong in me!

Even now I would bet on myself against my older brother Graham despite the fact that he was taught how to cheat at Crib by Our Grandfather, Richard Griffiths.

Brilliant, but an amateur compared to Uncle Sid!

Perhaps Graham will tell you about Digger Griffiths for therein lay many a tale!

* Pull the carpet straight!

17th February 2009

Julie Allen (nee Hook) relates:

My name is Julie Allen (nee hook) was born in West Pontnewydd in 1956, families that lived near by as I recall were the `Coles` and `Lloyds`,  I was

the oldest girl of four siblings, my brother`s name is Nigel, and I have two younger sisters called Sharon and Tracy (sadly Sharon died in 2007 aged 49).

My mother's name is Alice and my fathers name was Brinley (died in 1977). I can't remember much about West Pontnewydd, but we then moved to Tynewydd road and then Station road, Pontnewydd.

We lived next door to Gazzi's  ( we lived in no 28 Station rd), I can remember playing in the fields, at the back of Tynewydd road, watching the  steam

trains come into the station. I can remember going to Cinema in Pontnewydd on a Saturday for their matinees, also when they screened PG Tips films and getting all the `goodie bags`.

Going to the fish and chips after for scrunches which cost  3d ( all that out of 2/6 pocket money, and I think we still had change).

I grew up with Angela Gazzi and her two brothers, I remember her fathers Cafe in Pontnewydd, everyone went there to listen to the juke box , drink

the frothy coffee or those ice cream floats, and Nickabockaglorys. Great Times (watching the Teddy boys, `mods and rockers` and the scooters with all

those mirrors.

We had great times playing marbles, skipping in the back lanes of Station rd, we even  had chicken and rabbits in the back yard, fresh eggs to eat in

the mornings.

I can remember going to Sunday school at Ebeneezer chapel which is still there to this day, opposite Newtown Motors. Behind the chapel used to be Parsons wood yard or farm, not quite sure which, you could buy bundles of wood, from `old man Parson`.

Remember the coal man calling , putting the sacks of coal in the bunker in the back yard of Station road. Can any one remember the `Rag and Bone` man, calling down Station Rd, and the man that called and gave the kids little tins of polish (what was all that about)?

We had coal fire central heating put in our house in Station road by Peter O'Neil's, they must be descendants of the current firm based in Cwmbran. We

used to toast our `door step` bread on a Sunday tea-time using an expandable toasting fork and putting jam and butter on (doesn't taste the same now).

We had `Glynis the shop` next door to us, so we don't have far to go for food; anyone remember 1/4 bags of sweets in paper bags twisted at the top?

Going to Pontypool market was a treat on the bus with my father and buying cockles from the old lady in the market that came all the way from Swansea.

We went to school at Maendy Juniors and Infants School,( Mr Harris was one of the Teachers), which is still standing we then moved on to Croesyceiliog school before it went Comprehensive. I left in 1972 and went on to complete a pre- nursing course at Pontypool College as it was known then, from 1972-74.

Anyone remember the `Croesy dances` I think they were held on a Friday, anyone remember SLADE play there?

Mr Pomeroy was Head teacher and his wife was the R.I  Teacher there.

I remember the Old Flea Pit in Old Cwmbran, I worked there for many years (for my sins) and some of my family, Mr snowball  was the owner at the time,

we had moved to Ventnor Rd in the 1970's and it was my first paid job.

Julie Allen has also contributed:

A very dear friend of mine, who is `90 years young today` gave me photo of her, in class at school.

She went to Upper Cwmbran school the photograph is dated at approx. 1928, her name was Lillian Harris (now Jenkins) of Hill street Pontnewydd, we were just recalling the old days with her and I told her about this site, she gave me the photograph to share with others and see if there is any left?... she did mention that a lot of her class were killed in the war.

Lillian known as Gywneth to her friends, is in the front row 7th little face along. She also remembered the young lad, back row 2nd from the right is called Owain Filer.

.. Upper Cwmbran School - 1928 ..
30th January 2009

Joanna Griffiths relates:

Hi to all, I unearthed an old picture of my grandfather, Richard Mckenna, he passed away in the early 1980's, was married to Evelyn Mole, was in the Parra's and worked for Llanwern steel works, lived in Pontnewdd, just wondered if anyone had any memories of him to share?, also my Great Grandfather Ernest Mole, former Mayor of Cwmbran? Thank you in advance for any info/stories you may have.

John Pennells (Taverham, Norfolk) relates:

Whilst trying to find some info on my elder brother’s Welsh amateur boxing career in the 1950’s &1960’s (he is sadly no longer with us) I came across your site by chance and was surprised to see the latest entry in memory lane (August 1^st 2008) was an article by my younger brother Steve Pennells recounting memories of Cwmbran and Pontnewydd. That got me reading all the contributions to “ Memory Lane” and it brought back a lot of memories and a good few names that I have not seen and heard of in over 25 years. As Steve said in his writings Five Locks Road was where we were born and brought up (No. 57 later to become 85) was a ‘steel house’ with huge gardens that was just about big enough for nine kids, a mother and father and a dog!

(Sometimes, rabbits as well)

My father had a habit of giving all of us nicknames, I was Jacko, my youngest sister Margaret he called “Honk” (don’t ask me why) but I do know why he bestowed upon Steve the A.K.A. “Slug”. It was on account that Steve, as soon as he could walk, liked to dig. In those days most gardens were cultivated to sustain the families all year round and every type of vegetable, fruit and domestic animal food source (chickens rabbits etc) you could find in the twenty or so gardens that was part of Five Locks Road or that backed onto those bastions of steel and brick. Well, “Slug “ was renowned for digging up, with his Barry Island spade that which was planted that very day, and what’s more he was proud of it! Hence the name “Slug” has he is affection ally known as

Not content with giving nicknames to just us, he gave most of the street them as well. Daryl Spiers, or Joe as Steve called him was called “lily white” or “spanner” on account that his hands were always dirty or he had to find out how his toys worked. literally, and it’s safe to say that not many of his Christmas presents lasted beyond Boxing Day! The Loder twins (Roger & Royston) were “Legs” & “Dapper”. And certainly, as far as the well over 6ft “Legs” was concerned, he followed in the footsteps of the great goalkeepers like Dai Francolme who played between the posts for Pontnewydd in the late 50’s and 60’s.Names like Mal Jones, Charlie Roberts Dai Brown and the man with the hardest shot in the whole of the Mon Senior League “Boot” Coles. Not the most athletic player on the pitch, but when it came to penalties or free kicks, we felt it only fair to warn their goalie not to try and save it if it headed his way. Some heeded our words as the ball more often than not broke the back of the net and would leave a dent in the corrugated fence at the back of the goal. The foolhardy were normally carried off or couldn’t feel their hands for days!

Mel Whitcombe and I started school together in Upper Cwmbran Infants in 1954 in a wooden framed building that was at bottom of what appears now to be the playground (near Eric Edwards shop, as was) and were fortunate to have Bernice Williams as our teacher for most of the two years we were there. Mothered, we were looking back on it now. Then at the age of seven we both got transferred to Pontnewydd Junior School. By this time Mel and I were best of friends, although if Maesgwyn lads wanted to pick a fight in defence of the land that leads through the ‘backfield’ and up the hill to the path that led into the middle of Maesgwyn (more like handbags at ten paces in those days) then Five Locks Road gang would duly oblige and it was every man (boy) for himself. A cut eye or a black one was usually the most damage inflicted.

“Mella” Whitcombe and I went everywhere together, throughout our school years and into our teens, girls had to come in twos in those days, and usually did. Llantarnam Secondary Modern had the pleasure of our company until 1963 where for the first time we were separated by the class system of A&B where Mel ended up in the B class for three years. He went down the mines to train as an electrician whilst I decided that the bowels of Hafodrynys was not for me and worked for Richard Thomas & Baldwins ( a.k.a.Panteg Steelworks before British Steel and the building of Llanwern destroyed it).

At thirteen we joined the Army Cadets at Griffithstown just off the canal bank which also held the T.A. Lt. Peter Meads was our C.O. who was a most likeable gentleman with a wicked sense of humour for he could always get the better of our ‘arch rivals’, namely Malpas Army Cadets, and the even more dour personage of their leader Sgt Major Tratt. The annual camps at Folkstone and Crowborough (near Tunbridge Wells) were memorable. One memory that sticks out was that Daryl (lily white) joined for a short while and was with me in the back of an Army lorry that travelled to Crowborough through the night taking all the kit bags and the 25-pounder gun in tow. When, in the fog, the driver missed a turning and told us to unhitch the gun because he couldn’t reverse with it on. Now those of you who remember the old 25- pounder gun will know that over a ton of gun is perfectly balanced on it’s two wheels and can usually be held by the towing hook with one hand. –On the flat. We were up the top of a slight hill and has I was holding the tow hook it started to creep down the hill with me and my hobnailed boots sliding after it gradually picking up speed. Shouting to Daryl to put the hand brake on he replied, ”Where is it?” “Next to the right wheel” I ventured in my not so calm voice. He found it pulled it back and the barrel of the gun went down, and me, still hanging on to the hook went up. Eventually when we peered into the darkness beyond we saw that the barrel of the gun had missed going through a shop window by 3ft All the driver said was “Where you been with my gun” We didn’t like to say.

“Old lily white” could never grasp the army saying of “this is my rifle, this is my gun, this is for shooting, this is for fun” probably due to his father Percy Spiers who loved all things cowboy and wore a Stetson everywhere.” I’m just gonna mosey on up the woods” was a phrase I would often hear. Ruby, his wife, I owe my life to for she held me in her arms for three days when I was a baby with a fever that the Doctors didn’t hold up much hope for me.

The Army Cadets also gave me the first real “love of my life” for this girl was always waiting at the end of the drill hall road; on parade nights for her then boyfriend was in our force. Dropping him for me, my first date was to be from the drill hall to the bus stop at St Hilda, s.! I was expecting a slight girl with shoulder length hair, and walked straight passed a lass with a bright green, fur- collared coat and a beehive hairdo! Not the best start to my relationship which lasted on and off for nearly three years. I often think of Janet Spokes with a great deal of affection. I last saw her at the bottom of Cearwent Road- whilst on my “postie” round, just before I moved away to Norwich. In 1978.

It brings me on to one of the Memory Lane contributions where someone was describing an old gentleman being found in the canal on the Sebastopol side of the Long Tunnel. For reasons that I will not bore you with here Janet and I had to meet in secret and this particular Sunday afternoon we arranged to meet by the bridge where the water overflow from the canal cascaded down a mini waterfall. There were a couple of lads with a pellet gun shooting at something across the other side of the canal and one said “it didn’t half look like a body or something” although to me it looked like an old tweed coat caught on a branch. (You can’t get to the other side on that stretch of canal) Anyway Janet turned up and so did a couple of lads in a canoe, one of them I knew from Cadets Not wanting to hang around and get ‘found out’ by those who had tried to stop us seeing each other we went down into the wooded area on the other side (5 locks side) of the tunnel and there we were oblivious to the outside world until it got nearly too dark to see anything. Walking down the roadway that skirted the Cwmbran House OAP Home and the canal bank we noticed that there was a lot of flashing blue lights driving up the actual canal bank. After seeing her to her bus on the Lowlands I returned home to find that they had found a body in the canal and ‘where the hell had I been’ for my mother always feared the worst and probably thought it was I. I couldn’t really tell her, could I?

There was a little park between Meadowbrook Avenue and Beech Close which was created by the council and in the main by a mountain of a man we all knew and loved called Tom Brown, from Ty Pwca. Although he was deaf, he managed to communicate to all of us through signs and gestures. A giant, a gentleman, and sadly left us far too early. His Son Terry, (‘tecca’) still lives in the steel house for it was he who first got me interested in Newport Speedway, in the days of Somerton Park that was Newport County Football ground in those days. We travelled all over the country to speedway meetings in his six- seater Consul. His son Tom, is a speedway rider now and I try to see how he’s performing through the Internet

Jakeway Timber was where Tecca, my two brothers-in-law, Brian”goody” Goode & Vince “Bud” Wheatstone and I worked. When the “boss” was Archie Menzies, who was for many years Newport County’s Chairman. Jakeway’s became part of Burt Boulton Timber, and last time I saw the yard in Lower Pontnewydd was Travis Perkins run. Memorable moments include the way we used to find leaks in the thin copper tubing that ran gas from the cylinders to the heaters in the workers cabin. The smell of butane gas was a regular occurrence and was detected by running a lighted match along the pipe. Normally a “pop” indicated where the hole was and would be sealed up with tape There was particularly strong smell of gas this one morning and a “charge hand” who shall be nameless said leave it to him to find the leak. He did, but not before he blew the roof off and all but destroyed the cabin, along with giving the old boy that cleaned it a near heart attack when he was lifted clean off the floor by the explosion! We did get a new cabin out of it, though. Watching timber from the yard floating away when the Afon Llwyd broke it’s banks at the top of the yard .Of the Football Team we had, with tacklers that would make Vinny Jones look like a choirboy. Gifted players like Dai Herbert, who had a fierce shot on him as well as a pair of very quick feet. Cwmbran Town had the benefit of Dai for a good few years

Brian “Normsy” Norman who scored more goals for the opposition (own goals) than he ever did for us. Owns the distinction for three o.g’s in one match Abergavenny Thursday’s Ground it was. I know, because I had the unenviable job of retrieving the ball from the back of our net.

Five Locks Road holds so many good times and some not so good, for just below where the mini roundabout now joins Ty Pwca Road my wife of 5 weeks and I got knocked down by a car driven by chap that I knew and grew up with. I was actually carried on his bonnet 70 yards and when he finally stopped I slid on to the road right outside my parents house where we were living at the time. The wife ‘s femur was broken so she ended up in traction for three months. They actually found one of her shoes in the rear garden of the first steel house (Daunters?) Two fractured legs saw me on crutches for a similar amount of time. Not so lucky ten years before, in 1958 a gentleman we affectionately knew as Bungey Lloyd who even in his eighties took great delight in divesting you of your “Arrleys” or marbles that was all the rage in those days. To get a bag of marbles for Christmas and by New Year’s Day you would rue having taken on Bungey in the street potholes. His one ‘vice’ was to put his drinking cap on and head every night to the Cross Keys Pub at around seven o’clock.

You could set your watch by him, (if you had one!) Bonfire Night in 1958 just before the bridge that goes over the brook (MeadowBrook Avenue} he evidently forgot something whilst he was crossing the road and turned back only to collide with a car and a motor cycle (I think) and sadly passed away a few days later. More recent events, sadly, so I understand, has also befallen that particular spot.

So many memories of ‘home’ for Cwmbran is still my spiritual abode I could fill this site up with days gone by, it heartens me when I see the names like the Bodenhams, who like my elder brother and I learned the boxing skills in the upstairs room of the Abbey Hotel in Old Cwmbran. Liz Blount who held me to her ample bosoms when I won the boy solo Eisteddfod competition at Llantarnam Sec Mod. (For Green house) thanks to my old music teacher Muriel Rosie, who gave me the love of singing. Llantarnam School and Dave Paley that allowed me to use him as a sparring punch bag, (I actually floored him once!) only to be pummelled with his 16 oz gloves and Len Constance that taught me to run the 200 metres in double quick time with his size 9 “Dap” belting my backside all the way! Diolch yn fawr as they say in Norfick, cor blas’ yus, t’gether

28th December 2008

Sue Smith relates:

Hello everyone out there,

A Very Happy New Year to you

Well as it's the pantomime season I just thought I would share a few memories with you.

As a girl of 8 or 9 I joined a Pantomime group who practiced at Upper Cwmbran Infants School. I think it was run by the ladies of Siloam Baptist Church Upper Cwmbran.

Our production was “Goody Two Shoes”

I was so excited I went every week to learn the songs and dances, I had visions of fame and fortune and I had to start somewhere, but alas it was not to be I loved singing and dancing but maybe the old hall at Mount Pleasant Pontnewydd (where the sea cadets hall is now) was not the prime location to be discovered.

So I put my dreams on hold while I got married and settled down to being a wife and mother, but soon my daughters joined Siloam Baptist Church and they were performing in the pantomimes which included Robinson Caruso and Aladdin and their performances were held in the then new Mount Pleasant Hall. I was so proud to see them on stage doing the same as I had years before, Anyone remember these productions? Good memories.