Neolith

A Memory of Newburn.

This was around 1968 and I lived in 21 Millfield Lane. I got auld Mrs Bradney's downstairs flat and me Nanna lived in No. 25, so nice and handy to pop in for a cuppa and a chat as me Ma 'n Da 'n two sisters had moved to Pegswood, Morpeth, through me Da being transferred from Loughbride drift in Callerton to a mine in Ashington.
There was a lucrative company in Millfield/Newburn, the Neolith factory. It had a top factory which was in part of old Spencer's steel works and a bottom factory which was in the old rope works which is now Pringles scrapyard. They made insulation slabs for the construction industry, these would form walls, flat roofs etc, they were made from wood wool which is fine planed logs mixed with chemicals and cement, they came out of the process all shapes to be dried and hardened. Wes started first and I followed on, him at the bottom yard and me at the top yard so we never seen each other at work let alone any other time, I was nights, he was days. I made more dosh for 4 nights than Wes got so he had to work five days and a Saturday morning to compete. I worked four 12 hour nights 7pm till 7am, this was the hardest work I had ever done, I lost 2 stone in no time and built arm muscles like I never had. When I first started I was operating a huge circular saw for cutting logs, these would be about 6 to 8 feet in length and about a foot in diameter, I had to pick these up from a pile and place them on the saw cradle which was chest height and cut them to the length required, this would have broken every health and safety rule in the book now. I had a hernia in my groin at the time and it used to pop out every time I lifted a log, then I would press it back in to take the pain away, this occurred all night, every night, each time I lifted a log (it took 3 years before I got the operation to right it). Anyway these logs would be put on huge planer beds operated by old Joe Joyce from Throckley, I say this becuase he had a son with the same name. Joe passed away recently and I never got to see him.
Joe would look after these logs, maybe 12 at a time, and as soon as one was down to a twig he would whip it off using his stick, then place another in its place. Then there was Big Gus Yoxhall, also from Throckley, he would operate the fork lift to a millimeter at breakneck speeds. Gus and me used to meet outside mine and walk to work together, then walk back again as he passed my flat, we would cut through a wire mesh fence at the bottom of Francis Terrace then across Spencers yard. Summer came and I was like a bottle of milk so I went up to the Banka, (a field above Kirtons quarry) to do a spot of sunbathing, this was on a work day so I fell asleep as I had been to work all night. I was there most of the day and returned home like a turkey cock, went to work and I had to leave around 2am as I had sun stroke. I remember standing in the bath with one of those shower attachments you fit to the taps with cold water pouring over me. Next day I had to see the doctor who told me to go to bed with plenty of blankets on to keep hot, I was doing the opposite which made it worse. Saturday came and Peter Graham called for me around 11am, as this was our day in town where we met all of our mates in the Three Bulls. I was still in bed so he had a chat and he left for the number 16 bus, I couldn't stay in no matter what, so I was on his heels within the hour. When I got to the pub all the lads and lasses were there and they all burst out laughing when I walked in as Peter had told them about my ordeal, but that was soon forgot, as was the sunburn after a few bottles of the old Broon dog (Brown Ale) until I got the little pretend hug and slap on the back off my so called mates even my Bry-nylon shirt was a ton weight on my body. Never mind, I was back at work come the Monday night swearing I would never sunbathe again, but it did happen time and again, as I used to love to catch the rays.