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Upper Gellifelen memories

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Memories of Gwent

Special Times

The Waterfalls c1950, Brynmawr
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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 scenery, lovely memories. With thanks to my Uncle Fred Bedford, a lovely, loving man.

My Hometown

The Market Square c1955, Brynmawr
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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 go to the local cinema and see mainly westerns in those days. Then come out and get a bag of chips and wander back home, just simple easygoing things.   

'Up The Baths'

The Swimming Pool c1955, Brynmawr
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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, she opened a shop and sold crisps and pop, I was sent down to Saxons on a regular basis for extra supplies. I had great times in those summers.


Swimming Pool c1955, Brynmawr
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It's not an actual memory, but my grandad, Tom Gurney, used to fetch me from the nursery, put me on his shoulders and take back to the house up at Heol Isaf. I have many fond memories from home, I was a bit of a rat bag when younger, but my parents of Neil and Audrey, my uncles and Aunts did a great job. I actually miss home and it was a go-slow place nestled up in the valleys. One day i want the Welsh to beat the All Blacks in rugby, maybe this weekend 19-June-2010.


The Bus Station c1965, Brynmawr
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Brynmawr. Although I've lived away from here for nigh on 40 years, I still regard this place as home. I was, and although thankfully grown up now, always regarded as a bit of a black sheep. Lived originally on the new houses, 5 Tudor Crescent, having moved from the Semtex estate, up by the Gurnos. We moved into the old synagogue, in the late 1960s, as my dad, David Bennett, God bless him, with his mate Alan Durban, renovated it into our new home, Westlyn, 46 Baily Street. Massive place, or so it seemed at the time. I remember the original stairwell, the large front room+window, and it seemed the quite regular pig invaders into our back garden from the slaughterhouse, fresh bread from directly opposite at the distribution depot. We left in 1970, moved to Brum, me personally kicking + screaming, dragged from the pond fishing, Warwick Road, by my dad. I'm the only one left there now. I was always sporting minded, playing cricket, footie, for the town. Good+ bad memories,... Read more

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