I was born Margaret Angelina Norman but known as Jeana Norman. I lived at 5 Christina Street, Tiger Bay, with my mother and grandparents.
My grandfather was a docker all his life as well as a groomer for horses. I can remember him braiding their manes in the stable at the bottom of the yard, and they would be hooked up to sulkies for trot racing.
My nana was the best in the world and talked ill of no-one. At the back of our house was a lane and after that was the infamous Bute Street where there were some houses, lots of pubs and cafes where a lot of prostitutes would hang out.
Once in a while one of them would come around to the centre streets and I can remember on one occasion my nana was on the front door and as the girl passed she said good morning and my nana answered "good morning my lovely girl".
That was how my nana was never a bad word about anyone and always said "she's someone's poor daughter".
Anyway Tiger Bay was vibrant with every ethnic group I can think of and all kinds of languages and smells of the different cooking. It was such a warm and loving but exciting place to grow up.
We didn't need college to teach us about cultures, we lived it. Every mother was every child's carer and you did what they said or you would get in trouble from your mother if it was reported that you were rude in any way.
Loudoun Square was phenomenal. We had at first a fountain but it was eventually replaced with a paddling pool. Boy did I love that pool. On the wall there would always in the summer be local boys with guitars sitting on the park wall making up calypsos as people walked by.
I can still remember being so embarrassed because as I walked by one summer's evening I heard one of them sing "here comes Jeana walking down the street looking mighty pretty looking mighty sweet". I was flattered but embarrassed at the same time.
I loved Loudoun Square and you could always find me at either 63 where my Auntie Sara lived or 38 where my friend Olwen lived.
I too remember Tom the fishman with his cart. My oldest son would walk behind him for miles when we would be there on holiday and he always came home with a herring. We didn't eat that kind of fish in our house so Abdo our neighbour would cook it for him smothered in onions and tomatoes. Oh my god the smell was to die for.
On Sundays we went down to the Pier Head now known as Cardiff Bay. We could walk down wooden formation to the edge of the water or we could go right and go see the famous sea wall.
People living there at that time were not friendly to the people of Tiger Bay and liked to think they were above us so they would very often tell us to go back down the Bay where we came from. I laugh now because I live in one of their houses - in fact I am almost certain it is the house of "that mean old lady."
I could go on and on but the Tiger Bay I knew is gone and what was promised to us the residents was never manifest. They have the Cardiff Bay now and it has its pros and cons.
The worst thing is the architecture. Whoever designed it never bothered to find out but it is horrendous. Cheap wood and glass buildings not in keeping with the beautiful red clay Pier Head clock and already showing signs of wear.
Yes I was Tiger Bay born, Tiger Bay bred and when I am gone I'll be Tiger Bay dead. Anyone coming from the area will know that song.
God bless to all of you out there and forever hold your heads high. We were really privileged to have been born in such a wonderful environment.
Much Love, Jeana Norman xxx
Read her husband Johnny Lassiter's Story
