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as I met boys from a wide area around Pontypridd and my horizons were extended. My Chemistry teacher, Lewis Phillips, was later to become my father-in-law.

Many events and changes happened in the twenties. Our first radio, a Pye, on which we listened to everything - the sheer novelty of the thing quite overwhelmed us. Then the installation of electricity which replaced the gas and paraffin lamps. The birth of Iwan, the third son, on a Saturday. Wyn and I were sent out to play by Lily Studley our maid. Each time we came back, curious to find out what was happening, she sent us out to play some more. Normally we didn't need to be told but that day all we wanted was to get back into the house. I remember moving a piano from Ynysybwl to New Inn, Pontypool where Grandma Parker lived. We had Tommy Lloyd's milk float and his pony and we took it through Pontypridd, Nelson, Crumlin which took us all day as we had to walk up hills and there were many of them. Unforgettable were the weekends of the Big Meetings when two famous preachers would stay with us. Services on Saturday night, all day Sunday and on Monday night. The preachers were the great men of their day, and wee wonderful story tellers. Each Friday night I went with Mam down to the shops. At the grocer's the week's food was ordered and delivered on Saturday. Then the green grocer for an item or two which didn't grow in the garden and lastly to the newsagent to pay for the papers. Mr. Rogers was the church secretary and took it upon himself to test my Welsh. He would hold back my copy of Tiger Tim's Weekly until I answered correctly - I didn't like Mr. Rogers much.

I was 5 when the Great War ended but I do not recall the celebrations. However I do recall the thrill of apprehension when the pit siren sounded to signify an accident, an all too frequent an event.

After a year at Grammar School, when I was twelve, my world was shattered. Dad had accepted a call to a large church in the Swansea Valley and we were to leave Ynysybwl, that lovely, familiar, magical place that I knew so well. Furthermore, in Ynysybwl my friends all spoke English, Welsh was for the house and chapel. But Ystalyfera was so different - there everyone spoke Welsh all the time, even the Italians and the Irish. The boys played in Welsh using words I did not recognise and I knew no one. Worse still I had to go to Ystalyfera on my own in order to start the new year in my new school, which meant lodging with a family until the rest of the family moved. They arrived a month later, and such is the resilience of youth, by then I was in charge of the situation, had a host of new friends and could show the family around their new home. I lived at Pantteg, Ystalyfera until 1934 when at 19 years of age I left for Chesterfield in Derbyshire to commence my working life in the Midland bank. The family moved fom Pantteg to Brecon the month after I left.


Remembering my childhood and writing  my memories down has been a pleasure and a cause of thanksgiving. How much we owe to our early years and how much influence the people we lived amongst had on us. But my main recollection is of the freedom we had. Short of money we might have been, but nature provided us with an unlimited field for our activities and surely helped shape our lives in a truly broad and enlightened way.

Holidays.

Every year we had a fortnight's seaside holiday. The favourite venue was Porthcawl; there we took rooms in a house, Mam bought the food and the lady of the house cooked for us. Porthcawl in those days was a very lively place with cinemas, a theatre, concert parties, brass bands, a lake and good beaches. We spent the morning at Sandy Bay, went to our 'digs' for lunch then took sandwiches etc and walked to Rest Bay for the afternoon and evening. Incidentally, I met Eirlys when her family shared the same house as us. The next year we met again. In 1942 we were married and had a short honeymoon in Porthcawl. Before I retired from the bank we moved to Porthcawl and here I am still, and very happy to be here. A few holidays were spent at Aberporth and these were quite different and very enjoyable. Once we went to Barry and we kids had Chicken Pox. Mam had a good time as the Doyle Carte Company were performing at Barry and she went nearly every night to the performances. Once we went to Llanstephan. Mam hated it as the 'digs' were not good but I had a wonderful time as the owners ran buses and I went on trips sitting in the cab with the driver. Dad had an enlightened view about holidays for which I am truly grateful.

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