Troedrhiwfuwch memories
Here are memories of Troedrhiwfuwch and the local area. You can start now: Add your own Memory of Troedrhiwfuwch or a Troedrhiwfuwch photo.
TROEDRHIWFUWCH A Place in my Heart
My father, Thomas Henry Williams, was born at 57 High Street, Troedrhiwfuwch in 1908. In his early 20's he left Troedy for Bristol, to look for work. It was in Bristol that he met and married my mother, and subsequently my sister Sylvia and myself, Roy, were both born. As a family we never lost touch with my father’s birthplace. We spent every Christmas in Troedy and I spent most of my summer school holidays there. I was born in 1937 but never knew my grandfather, who had passed away a few years earlier - so the head of the house was Gran. Gran was the kindest person I have ever known, but she was very strict and nobody ever argued with her. Also living at No 57 was my father’s brother, Uncle Ol and his wife Auntie Clar with their son Edwin who was four years older than me. I always looked up to Edwin and was fascinated by his stories. He told me that he used to catch... Read more
Troedrhiwfuwch, Village Life
There are a few more observations I wish to make about Troedy. There is a common theme running through most of the memories posted on this website and that is one of very happy times gone by. As an outsider, I recognised early on that there was a very strong community spirit in the village. Everyone appeared to know each other and everyone was friendly and willing to help each other whenever they could. This was something I had not come across in a large town like Bristol, where I lived. Even as an outsider, I was readily accepted into village life. I used to play football and cricket in the school playground, with all the other lads. I also used to play on the swings and roundabout, go swimming in the river and climb the mountain. It seemed as if everyone I met knew me, and made me feel at home. Although there were less than a hundred houses in the village, it had a church and a chapel,... Read more
Troedy The Place of my Birth
Firstly, Troedy was in Glamorgan not Gwent or Monmouthshire as it was then known. However, the postal address was New Tredegar, Monmouthshire. I was born at 1 Chapel Road in my grandfather's house. Sam and Sarah Ward had four children, Matty, Dave, John and Rhonwen. Matty, my mother was the oldest. My father and his family lived at 57 High Street. He lived with his grandmother Jane, my Uncle Ol and Auntie Clar and Edwin. My parents were married in 1940 and I was born in 1941. My father was a soldier in the Second World War so he was away until 1945. I had relatives in Troedy, the Jones, the Williams and a host of relatives by marriage. I went to Troedy school and my teachers were Miss Lewis and Miss Pritchard. The latter taught my dad and mum as well as my grandmother. The family left in 1948 to live in London where they had a business but I came home every summer until I was 18. I... Read more
Troedrhiwfuwch.. I Can Still Spell it Fast
I was born in 1951 and I lived at 27 High Street next to Doreen's shop, I remember going in for sweets and I could hardly see over the counter and I was always amazed at all the stuff behind' real treasure' In our house we had a front room which nobody ever used and all the best furniture was in there and I had to walk through there to go upstairs, the toilet was at the top of the Garden and was shared with next door 'I remember lots of newspapers being in there and a big wooden seat'
My Gran lived near the Post Office and she had Gas lamps in the house and we used to make toast on a big brass fork held against the fire, when she made Sunday cooked dinner she got the mint from the garden. My two uncles Ivor and Sammy lived here and I loved them very much , Ivor would give me fourpence to go down the pub to get... Read more
Troedy And Mam
My mother, Marie Griffiths that was, lived in Troedy until she married in 1952 and moved to the 'Flower'. I remember the bus rides to Troedy to visit my Grandmother, Blod. As a young child, I never understood why Mam would get off the bus the other end of Troedy; there was a bus stop closer to my Grandmother's. Years later, I asked her why she did that. Her reply was "well I liked to see all the old neighbours and have a chat". It used to take us hours before we eventually got to my Grandmother's house!
I remember the tiny little house; The toilet at the bottom of the garden; no hot running water; no central heating; but a lovely little community.
My father's mother also lived in Troedy, Florrie Davies. She lived in the end house and her daughter Jeanie lived there in later years. Florrie had 16 Grandchildren altogether. She passed away in 1963.
Troedy, The Best Place in The World to Grow up
1953, my first day of school, holding hands with Brian Brown going down the street to the bottom gate of school was my first real memory of Troedy. We all took care of each other those days, we shared everything. Miss Moore would put our bottles of milk around the edge of the fireplace in winter to take the chill off it. Auntie Mattie the school cook made the best gingerbread men ever. I passed my eleven plus exam there. I still see a lot of the old Troedyites when I go to the special occasions at St Tyfaelog's church, Pontlottyn, where there is a little chapel of St Teilo which was of course the name of our little mission church that used to be situated between the cenotaph and the post office in Troedy. We used to play knock knock ginger and I was the one who always got caught because I couldn't run as fast as the others. I grew up one of six kids in number 7... Read more
The Jenkins Family
My father was born at 63 High Street Troedrhiwfuwch on 10th February 1921. His mother was Theodoshia Jenkins (nee Heatherley) and his father was Thomas George Jenkins. He had 4 sisters and a younger brother called Lawrence who died at a young age from TB. He was lucky not to follow his father down the mines as at the age of 18 joined the Royal Airforce to fight for his country as a gunner in the Second World War.
The Day I Was Born
74 High Street was the special place I was born into. My lovely Nan (Florrie) and Gransha (Will) were lovely loving grandparents who managed so much in their little 2 up 2 down, they brought a family up there - Mair who died young, Billy, Vera, Annie, Dougie and Jean Davies. We all piled into that little house often, especially on Sundays, and by this time there were at least 10 grandchildren to add to the mix. We used to get into trouble for raiding the allotments at the side of their house. I can still hear the shouts and giggles at some irrate gardener shaking his fist and threatining to tell our Gransha. Mum Annie is now 85 and spent all her years there until she married. She now lives in Blackpool but we often talk of Troedy and it's so sad that it is no more.
Mining Community Gone Without A Trace.
When they found coal, Treodrhiwfuwch was only a farm. A book was published by J R Pearce back in 1985 about Pontlottyn and Treodrhiwfuwch. Over the years terrace houses were built for miners, some turned into shops. My father David Thomas Harris was born 16th Feb 1917 in one of these houses. He went to school here and at the age of ten he was awarded a silver medal for three years never having a day off. At fourteen he, like so many before him, went down the pits, a dirty, dangerous job but that is all there was for work. He stayed down the pits for 10 back-breaking years. When war broke out he joined up to leave the pits behind. When the coal pinced out the whole community vanished, including the houses. Gone without a trace. Now my father died last month at the age of 93, but not without a trace. He is in our hearts, as is Tredrhiwfuwch.
A Coal Mining Community Started in 1853
My late father was born in Troedrhiwfuwch on 16th Feb 1917. His name was David Thomas Harris, mainly known as Dai Tom. He lived in a terrace house later turned into a shop. He lived there with six other brothers and sisters. His grandfather worked down the pit, his father worked down the pit. He went to school there. In 1927 Glamorgan council awarded Dai Tom a silver medal for not having a day off in three years, a good attendance medal. On his 14th birthday he then went down the pit. He worked there for 10 years. There is a book about Pontlottyn and Troedrhiwfuwch with photos by Jervis R Pearce printed in 1985. I have been there not so long ago and the whole place has gone without a trace. Sadly my father passed away 10th June 2010. He and his kind will be greatly missed, just like the place.
Memories of Gwent
Remember This?
Well, it's 1960 onwards for me because that's the year I was born! My dad was Bill Pritchard and he was the secretary to the manager at McLaren pit. We lived in McLaren Cottages, my mum and dad had me late in life, having married in 1929, they were 48 and 52 respectively when I came along! As well as me there was Molly (born 1930), Ken (b 1932), Christine (b 1942) and Robert (1947-1997). My dad died in 1973 and my mum died in 1983. I moved to Cardiff in 1984 and have been living in Aberdeenshire since 2005. Does anyone remember the following?
Mr and Mrs Owen's butchers shop; Mrs Lippiatt who ran the Post Office: Roffi's; Alan Crane the newsagent; Merle who ran the wool shop (later the fish shop), Mrs Jones who used to live in the 'Big House' (McLaren House), the Co-Op, Dr Ieuan, Dr Connolly (from my mum and dad's time), Abertysswg Infants & Junior School with the teachers Mrs Edwards, Mr Eynon, Mr... Read more
Manager's House
Because of my friendship with Helen Jones, the manager's daughter, I also went to play with her at her house, for me it was something very special because I had never been in such a big house before. It seemed so big, especially after my house in the village. The excitment of exploring the rooms especially the attic was wonderful, and later the grounds, where we picked crab apples. It would be wonderful if I could get in touch with Helen once again.
Growing up in Aberyysswg
I was 10 years old in 1953 and then lived in my 'gran's house' in Alexander Street. Janet McCarthy, Rita Anthony, Dilys Jones, Mylais Nash, Shirley Perry, Jean May, Dawn Waklin, Elvet Davies, Malcolm Powell also lived in this street and we were in school together apart from the older children who were closer to my sister's age (my sister, Joyce still lives in Abertysswg).
I remember Miss Hannah Davies teaching me at the local infants school and Mr. Taylor and in our final year we had kind and gentle Mr. Phillips. Miss Josie Cusack was the school secretary and always appeared friendly and helpful. Robert Griffiths from Carn-y-Tyla was praised for his papier mâché construction of a fort for a class project. He was an extremely confident boy if I remember correctly.
Abertysswg
I remember so many people from Abertysswg that it was great to find this website and know there are people writing about the village I shall always think of as ' home '.
Had fate been kinder to me I most probably would never have left but things happen that make us make decisions and mine was to leave Abertysswg. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I had stayed in the village but it is so good reading the memories of people from Abertysswg that I feel I still belong there and that is such a feeling of belonging!
I was in school with Christine Pritchard and the late Dorothy Tapscott. During the summer of 1958 I went on holiday to Seaton, Devon with Christine and we stayed at a bed and breakfast establishment owned by her brother Ken. Lovely times and cherished memories.
I remember going to the Queen's ballroom in Tredegar on a... Read more
My Time In Tirphil
Whilst born in New Tredegar I spent a great part of my early life living in Colliers Row, Tirphil during the war. My maternal grandmother Kate Hannan, she had lived in Colliers Row for an unknown period but having bred eight children including my mother Catherine it must have been for a considerable time.
My brother Lawrence and I were sent back to Wales by our parents to avoid the London bombing, they having moved the family to London when I was three years old. Lawrence went to Bargoed Technical and I went to Tirphil Boys School, known as the Tin Hut. We both initially had a hard time because of our Cockney accents but the Welsh lilt soon returned to our voices.
Gran Hannan ran an open house where it was quite normal for us to come home from the sports field late in the evening to find ten or twelve people sitting around waiting for the local bus. Gran's son Tom was living with his mother... Read more
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