Brynmawr, my home town, although I haven't lived there for nigh on 40 years, it's still home. I have good and bad memories of Brynmawr. I was always regarded as a blacksheep, rebel, so the bad memories are of my own making. But thankfully, I've matured.
Anyway, the synagogue in Bailey Street was renovated by my dad and his mate, Alan Durban, in the late 1960s. We'd moved from the New Houses estate, 5 Tudor Crescent, being the original occupants there. I always remember the original stairwell in the synagogue, which Dad was obliged to keep, and the massive front room window, although everything must have looked big in those days. The occasional pig visitor in our back garden from the slaughterhouse just up the road. The freah bread we'd get from the distribution depot across the road. I loved that house, though probably never appreciated it at the time.
I was very much, still am, a sports orientated person. Played cricket/football for the town. Thats where a lot of the good and bad memories came from, but, hopefully life moves on.
Still have trapse around the town every now and again when I visit my mom in Abergavenny or on my way down to Aberdare. It hasn't changed that much over the years really. Semtex is gone,where my Dad and I worked, to be replaced by an Asda etc, the old market is not as big as it used to be. The roadways in and out of town are different, but other than that, yes it died for a while, as did a lot of similar small towns around the country have, but it's rebuilding itself, there appears more life there. But no matter, it's still home, always will be, it's in the blood.
A memory shared byon Jun 28th, 2010.
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