Nostalgic memories of Brynmawr's local history

Share your own memories of Brynmawr and read what others have said

For many years now, we've been inviting visitors to our web site to add their own memories to share their experiences of life as it was when the photographs in our archive were taken. From brief one-liners explaining a little bit more about the image depicted, to great, in-depth accounts of a childhood when things were rather different than today (and everything inbetween!). We've had many contributors recognising themselves or loved ones in our photographs.

Why not add your memory today and become part of our Memories Community to help others in the future delve back into their past.

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Displaying Memories 11 - 14 of 14 in total

I'd love to hear anyone's memories of the Deakin fairground family based at Alma Street at Brynmawr. I am currently researching for a forthcoming book on the history of the family. Any information/memories/stories/photos would be appreciated. Even more so, the EXACT date when Margaret Deakin (Deakin-Studt) passed away. We know she was buried in St. Mary's Church graveyard on November 5th, 1970, and supposedly died in Brynmawr. Help!
I remember being 'taught to swim' here, by the teachers at the board school. We were stood at the poolside, only up to the black line, then summarily being to "Jump!". If that failed, we were helped in by the boot of 'Danny' Davis or 'Joe' Robbins, then expected to 'swim' back to shallow water. The lifeguard was called Gerald. My mother, Minnie Evans, was the cashier at the baths for two summers. It was a great time, ...see more
Brynmawr is a quiet little town on the edge of the valley roads. These photos bring back memories of all the hills I climbed, picnics on the mountain, paddling in the pond across from our house in Warwick Road. Snow 6ft deep in Winter. I remember the old steam train passing our house, I would wave to the driver and he would wave back to me standing on a low wooden fence. Everything was at a slow pace in the 50's. We would ...see more
Once the time had come for blackberry picking and whimberry picking, my lovely Uncle Fred took us down the valley roads, to get picking, ready for those lovely pies my grandmother would make. We would climb up beside these waterfalls, drink the pure water from them, lovely. Uncle Fred would walk for what seemed to me miles, me eating most of my pickings as I went. This was the early 50s, a lovely day out, lovely ...see more