NorthernGent
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Joined: 7/10/2006
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quote:
ORIGINAL: Termyn8or
But I want to hear about it.
Setting the scene a touch......I was raised in a part of England where the people are generally renowned for being down-to-earth, friendly, valuing traditional values...and for want of a better phrase, simple people who enjoy the simple things in life. Up until about 1960, the industry in the area was coal mining - your only option was to work down the coal pit working 6 days a week and 12/16 hour shifts. The blokes worked hard and spent their spare time in the local pub - drinking hard. In my Grandparents' day, England was still a religious country, and Catholicism and Methodism were the two prominent branches of Christianity in Durham.
On my Mother's side, my Grandma was the eldest of 9, by the time she was 11 she was washing all of their clothes, feeding them and generally looking after them - children were expected to work in some capacity by the time they were 11/12 in those days (around 1929). There was little work for young girls in Durham, so when the girls reached 14 they usually went off to other parts of the country to work as maids in stately homes (and they'd send all their money back home to their Mothers). My Grandma went to a place called Capesthorne Hall near Manchester to work as a maid at 14 - that's the way it was in those days, the class system was alive and well - but her memories are all positive........away from home with other young girls, going to dancehalls to watch bands etc. Oh, my Grandama was christened by the Salvation Army. In terms of character, she had a heart of gold, was very placid, hated alcohol and aggression, pretty much served people all of her life, easily pleased......she rarely watched television, always listend to music - traditional values. A first class Mother and Grandma - spent much of her spare time taking her kids to the beach/coast and generally going places and did the same for her grandkids.
My Grandad on my Mother's side was a totally different character......he was a total bigot and expected to be waited on hand and foot......then again, that's how it was in the mining areas in those days. He had a strong dislike for anything that didn't conform with his view of the world, he particularly disliked catholics...I remember when about 13, a lad called Mick Hughes had been in my Grandad's house and as soon as he left...."we're not catholics in here, mind!"......and another time when I went to see him in a green jumper and he wasn't best pleased.......looking back, he wasn't quite a full shillin'. So, my Grandad worked down the mine from 14 to 60 up to his eyes in shit, water, coal dust and in searing heat because he was working below sea level.....he pulled the wagons on his back is his day which apparently was the hardest and best paid job down the pit. By the time I knew him, he'd mellowed but have heard the stories about him playing up when he was drunk....apparently he never turned violent but was argumentative and one day when he was older my Grandma had had enough, so she slung him out the door by his trousers and put him on his arse in the yard. Act the fool, and you're going to get what's coming to you, I suppose. My Grandad grew all his own vegetables, had his own hens, pigeons etc - that's how it was in the mining areas. My Grandad died at 61 through health problems from working down the pit, and apparently in his 50s spent a lot of his time staring into the fire because he knew he'd fucked up and couldn't get that time back - he could have walked from here to Australia and would have struggled to find a woman with the heart my Grandma had - but to coin one of his own phrases "time waits for no man" and he knew and regretted the fact he hadn't made the best of his own life and made his own wife's life a misery at times through the drinking, gambling and general disrespect. Taking aside the bigotry, he was a very likeable man when sober, a gentleman in fact...was very kind to his kids...made sure they always had pocket money etc. He was a sneaky fucker, though, he was once saving money to go watch Sunderland in London in the '37 Cup final....he was working double shifts to do it but not letting my Grandma know. Anyway, he's hiding the money in the shed where he keeps his hens and about a week before the Cup Final he goes to get the money out of the shed to pay for the bus......only to find his stash had been eaten by mice and there was little more than a few crumbs lying in the corner. My Mum still has a laugh telling this story.......One of my lasting memories of my Grandad was watching him chase this huge banti 'round the garden....we were having it for our dinner so my Grandad was going to neck the big fucker, but it was a huge thing and it wasn't going out of this world without a struggle...after about 10 minutes of chasing, grappling and spitting, a stand off developed between my Grandad and the banti......my Grandad says, "Bella (my Grandma), get me the axe".......
On my Dad's side, my Grandma was a small, ginger, Scottish woman.....again, quite meek and lived to serve people in some capacity or other. She suffered from bad asthma and I've seen her turn purple almost. My Grandad was a womaniser and drinker. My Grandad was a coal merchant......rather than work down the mines, he started his own business selling coal...he started off taking a bag from the coast and selling it...and grew his business to having several wagons and supplying the South East end of Durham. He was a millionaire of his day but the drink got the better of him and he went bankrupt. He reedemed himself to an extent when he went into a burning building at 60 and saved a man's life - he was awarded some sort of bravery award - can't remember its name.
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I have the courage to be a coward - but not beyond my limits.
Sooner or later, the man who wins is the man who thinks he can.
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