Catherine's Story
Catherine Giles had an eventful childhood in London, "Our house was devasted by a bomb. We were all dug out from underneath the rubble". But even this tough upbringing scarcely prepared her for the life that awaited her with her in-laws in Aberavon, as she explains now.
After about a year, or eighteen months, we decided to get married. And, of course, he said, "Do you want me to come to London to live with you or do you want to come down to me?" And I thought, all right, I'll have a change, so that's how I landed up here.
It was a different life altogether, you know. Very strange, actually. I couldn't understand things.
I came here by train, the first time and of course, my husband-to-be came to meet me. I was only courting him then...my in-laws lived up near St Mary's Church and you had to go through a very narrow road, and we went through this very little narrow road and all the women were standing at their doors with babies wrapped in these big shawls.
And, not thinking, I said to my husband, "Goodness me," I said, "what on earth are they doing with shawls wrapped round them," I said, "What are they?" And he said, "They live here and that's how they cradle their babies," and I had no idea, because it was that strange.
And then, I lived with my in-laws. Oh, that was an awful story, I'm not going into that. My father-in-law was great. I got on with him fine. But, I don't know, it wasn't a happy start to my married life.
So, anyway, things were so...oh, and the strange part about it, was when the coal arrived. Cos that was emptied into the road, and I just stood there and I just looked and I said, "Well, what's this then?" And they said, "Well that's what we have. We have our coal delivered in the road and you're expected to help carry it in," And I just stood there and I said, "No way am I going to carry coal in off the road."
And, of course, my parents came down, one day and, unfortunately, the coal had arrived as they had arrived and they said to me, "You're not carrying no coal in!" And there was an awful uproar and they told me, "No, you leave that there. You're not carrying coal in, for anyone." And my mother-in-law had a big black grate which had to be polished every day and they had a quarry-stone floor which had to be scrubbed and I was expected to do that as well.
So, really, I thought, why have I landed up here? If you're brought up to that life, you know no different. Coming from a city into a place, you know, so different, it took me a long time to settle down, to be honest.
Avril's Childhood Memories
Avril is chair of the Beach Festival Committee and an energetic organiser of outings, shopping trips, ballroom dances, bingo and fun for her women's group at the Lido. She tells us, "My husband used to put me on top of the shed, cos I wouldn't stop talking." Now read on for Avril's account of her family's life.
My dad used to keep greyhounds. He used to take them up the White City to race, occasionally, and he also looked after other people's dogs as well...he had a string of them, going up to the White City, him and his friend. And he took them up, this day, and he lost them.
The gentleman concerned offered him a bet and he took it, because he was a right maverick and it was a genuine bet. But he lost the dogs against a farm. So, he comes home...
Every weekend, regularly, my mum and dad would quarrel over the dogs, 'cos they used to like to be by the fire and they always had plenty of attention, because they were tended, hand and foot.
They could only eat brown bread, they could only drink milk and you mustn't pat them all the time 'cos you'd spoil them. So, she used to sit back and she'd say, get rid of these dogs because the kids can't see the fire. So when he got home after losing them at the White City, we were crying for him, my brothers and myself...
The dogs' names were Woodbine and Gold Flake. I remember them so well, because my dad loved his Woodbines. We used to call him "Willy Woodbine". And he lost the dogs, so my mum was landed. Instead of being sympathetic to him, she said good job, so the kids can have the fire, now.
He was a tin-worker, actually, a very hard-working man. I remember going to see him once, in work. I had an occasion to go down with a message for my mother and when I saw what he was doing, I was crying murder. I said you mustn't let Daddy go to work any more, I said, 'cos it's too hard for him. And she said, how are we going to live, if he don't work?
These are extracts from John Bilsborough's book 'Changing Times - Stories from Sandfields and Aberavon', published in December 2006.
Changing Times - Part 2
