These were the hours where a companionship based on sharing became real.
Over 50 years on, and I can still see their faces
I don't ever remember being unhappy at the colliery.
Your father should take his jam sandwiches down Big Pit.
When he became worse, he was sent on public transport to Bristol Royal Infirmary.
My father had to hold him whilst the Doctor amputated his leg.
We never went to the doctors. We had our own remedies.
One of the singers had broken his leg while going over a stile.
