Hengoed, Mid Glamorgan

The Good Old Days

I moved to Hengoed when I was 6 years old. I lived in Hawthorn Avenue when the houses were first built. The first winter there was very bad, I have not seen a winter like it since, not in Hengoed anyway. It was a close-knit community there, 24 steel houses and policeman always lived in No 24. Everybody knew everybody and for a small community we had a lot of tragedies, always involving small children. Two children were killed by vehicles and when you consider that there were not a lot of vehicles on the road then two was a lot. Another child disappeared in the evening, I remember a knock on our door asking my father would he join the search, and I believe it was in the early hours of the following morning that they found the child dead in a quarry which contained a lot of water.

I can never remember being bored, there was always something to do. We wree surrounded by fields and were always playing football, cricket, or going to the Stute for a game of snooker. I remember well when we ran short of fuel my father would take one of us down the Graig, he would leave us in the small wood then he would cross the river, then over the railway line then dig in the tip for pieces of coal. He would return after about 30 minutes. I would still be where left me, cold and scared stiff. Then we would climb the Graig back home home. I must have been only about 8 then.

We kept a few chickens, the one day the cockerel attacked my mother. My father went down with a broom handle and sorted him out.

I went to school at Hengoed Infants, then on to the junior school. Our headmaster was Mr Owen. Can anyone remember Knobby Hayes? What a character he was. Then it was down to Ystrad Mynach Secondary Modern until you left school. I did not hear the word 'bully' then.

My first job, like nearly everybody, was down the mines, firstly training in Bargoed then to the local colliery, Penallta. I then went to work in Cardiff General Station as it was known the, then in 1961 I joined the S W B. My parents moved from Hengoed when I was in the Army, my mother in law and three of my sister-in-laws still live there so it cannot be a bad place to live.

HENGOED SCHOOL INFANTS AND JUNIOR

I HAVE GREAT MEMORIES OF A GREAT SCHOOL WHICH SADLY WAS DESTROYED BY FIRE 1960 S I REMEMBER THE DAY WITH SADNESS; AS I WATCHED WITH MY PARENTS AS IT WAS COMPLETLY DESTROYED. HOWEVER SHORTLY AFTER A NEW SCHOOL WAS BUILT AND MY CHILDREN WHO ONLY ATTENDED THE OLD SCHOOL FOR 3 YEARS ' STARTED AT THE NEW SCHOOL.AS THERE IS NOW AHOUSING ESTATE BUILT ON ITS GROUND,OLD SCHOOL GRANGE, IT WILL ALWAYS BE REMEMBERD BY ALL THAT ATTENDED IN MEMORY OF MR OWEN HEADMASTER AND ALL OUR TEACHERS .

My great grandmother

It's not a memory of mine but, she was my great grandmother and I am not sure of her first name although I know her surname was Powell.  She was a mother to grandad, who's life so tragically ended, she died in a fire, a caravan fire, in Hengoed.  I would like to know about her, and would like even to know her name and where she is buried.
I believe that everyone should be remembered and I think that I am the only one who wants to remember.

My first look

The first time my father took me under the Hengoed viaduct I remember looking up and said to my dad that one day I would like to walk across it and wondered how long it would take us. When I got a bit older and a bit more interested in the viaduct, me and a mate got over the fence on the Hengoed station side and made the trip to the other side.  Once half way across we stopped to take in the incredible views.  I'll never forget that day - it felt like we were on top of the world looking down at the valleys. I spent my childhood growing up in Cefn Hengoed and in the shadow of this wonderful monument.  I hope that it remains well preserved so that future generations can enjoy it the way that I did.

South Wales Photographic Memories

Dating from 1857, this viaduct once carried one of the busiest railways in South Wales. The line is long-since closed, but this towering sixteen-arch structure stands as a lasting reminder of Victorian skill and energy.

Porthcawl Photographic Memories

Here we see the entrance to the harbour. The wooden posts on the right are all that remains of the two original piers. The white wooden huts on the left were used by the local air-training

Porthcawl Photographic Memories

This is one of the earliest photographs of the new dock after the work was completed in 1867. It shows the coal hoists and also the Jennings Building, which was a warehouse and sawmill. The small building on the extreme left was the Customs House. On 5 July 1867, Robert Howell, the landlord of the Harbour Inn, fell into the old dock and was drowned. His body was recovered, and at the inquest a verdict ‘found drowned’ was returned. Robert was 45 years old, and left a wife and twelve children.