My Dad

A Memory of South Kirkby.

I remember the snows of 1963, I was four, looking out of our bedroom window on Camp Road and the snow was drifted up to the windowsill! Gorgeous memories of our bedroom fire making shapes on the ceiling and being warm as toast as me and my brothers listened to the howling north wind outside.
Our dear dad, Jim Taylor, fought (or tunneled) his way to Kirkby pit in the morning only to find just a handful of guys had made it in. Needless to say they were put on surface duties for a while before they were sent home.
Another tale was when he uncovered a fossilized fish down deep on the Barnsley seam. Boffins from a museum tried to get it out in one piece but they had to settle for two!
My grandad Jack Fox who lived round the corner on Saxon mount spent all his life down the pit. His son, mam's brother, Len, was a manager.
Mam and Dad attended Carmel Gospel Hall on Mill Lane. Does anyone remember Selwyn Hughes the minister?
We moved to South Wales in 1965 but Kirkby is my home still. Precious memories of Moores chip shop and playing on the Common.
The landscape down here has changed beyond all recognition too - all the pits gone, Llanwern works as good as gone, etc. etc. but our hearts beat still.
Keep smiling South Kirkby.