Chapter XVIII: 1960s
I was afforded relaxation from teaching and from hours of marking in the evening mainly by a round or two of golf, by attending chapel and functioning as a deacon, and by frequent visits, with Carrie and Bethan, to Fronolau, to see my parents.
By now, if I remember rightly, I was the senior deacon in Capel Newydd. The deaconate was made up mostly of professional people, especially teachers, and no longer had any colourful character, such as the renowned H.W. Griffiths. Herbert Griffiths loved the limelight, wishing to be acclaimed in the community as an active philanthropist organising appeals for funds for humane institutions like Swansea Hospital. He often went out on Sunday to small chapels in the remote countryside to preach and to collect for the Hospital. There is no more remote chapel than Soar-y-Mynydd, located in the wilds between Rhandirmwyn and Tregaron. But more than once Herbert Griffiths persuaded some of the chapel-goers in Llandeilo to drive him there over narrow roads, which were almost impassable.
Another interesting facet of his character was the parade he made of a certain facial likeness to Lloyd George. He studiously cultivated this similarity by displaying a moustache and flowing hair like Lloyd George’s. He even went up the Houses of Parliament, hoping that the Members would remark this amazing resemblance. There was a certain amount of self-display when he was in the Capel Newydd Sêt Fawr. He was the regular announcer, welcoming any visiting preacher, making flattering comments on the Minister’s sermons, and giving the announcements for the following week. But in his failing years, because he prided himself on remembering the announcements without referring to notes, he often made mistakes.
Well, I became his successor and right at the beginning I vowed that I would not continue with the job when I felt that I could no longer rely on my memory, for I too kept up the foolish pride in being able to remember the announcements without referring to notes.
There is one characteristic of his which really proved his actions were not all the result of vanity. He was humble enough to give his wife every help in the running of Gwili Café. Almost every morning he could be seen carrying a basketful of the famous Gwili buns for delivery to shops and houses. The Griffiths had one child, a son of whom they were justifiably very proud. Elwyn had a brilliant career in College and then as a Tax Inspector, but he carried with him at all time the unfortunate nickname ‘Buns’.
1960’s
The Sixties were eventful years in the lives of our family. Some of these events were sad and anxious, and indeed very trying at times. But the happy events easily outweighed the sad ones.
During the Fifties it was becoming more and more evident that my father’s Parkinson’s Disease was progressing relentlessly. His movements became more and more restricted and uncontrollable, and he had to be given help with such movements as getting up from the chair and moving to the table to have his meals. When helping him in this manoeuvre I had to tell him to move his feet in a certain way, but his brain failed to respond to the instruction until a minute or two had elapsed.
But the problems Carrie and I had with him when we visited Fronolau paled into insignificance when compared with Mother’s problems. It was worst at night, when Father had to get up very frequently to pass water. She had to get up several times to help him out of bed and to help him back. Sometimes he would, in the process, fall on the floor, and then Mother would find it impossible to lift him up. All she could do was to leave him on the floor, cover him with blankets, and wait for the morning when their next-door neighbour could be summoned to give help.
We soon realised that Mother’s courageous efforts were beginning to have a deleterious effect on her health. So our decision to buy a large house in 1953 turned out to be a providential one. We persuaded Mother to give up her lone efforts at trying to cope and to come to Fronlas. We set up one of the downstairs front rooms as a bedroom, and there Father was installed, while I volunteered to sleep, or rather to lie, with him, and then started the trying times.
When lying in bed with Father in the night I very rarely succeeded in dropping off to sleep as Father, when awake, was shaking so much that the bed shook too, and when he wanted to get out of bed to sit on the commode I had to try to lift him up by straddling my legs on each side of him and heaving him up, and this effort had to be carried out several times during the night.
Sleepless nights and the difficulty of lifting him out of bed soon brought me to the end of my tether, because at the same time I had to carry out my duties as Deputy Head in the School, and at this time the duties were becoming much more onerous. Mother must have sensed his and maintaining that Father’s condition had improved a little, decided that they should return to Fronolau and try to carry on as before. But before long we had an S.O.S. that Father, when trying to walk a few yards along the side of the wall of the bungalow, had fallen and broken his leg. He was taken by ambulance to Glangwili Hospital. He was there for five weeks, and not on a single day did I fail to visit him. However it must be admitted that this was far less trying than having to nurse him at home.
The nurses must have had an exacting time with him too. He could not make any movement in bed and he had to be turned frequently in order that he should not develop bed sores. But I am sure that he was not moved often enough for he did develop quite a number of sores on his back. By this time his speech had failed, and the only response I could have was the movement of his eyes. Eventually the death blow came with the onset of static pneumonia, and after five weeks in hospital he died on the 17th of June, 1961.
He had an impressive funeral in the small chapel at Bwlchycorn. There were more people outside than inside, as the chapel itself was more than half filled with relatives, most of them on my Mother’s side. Mother’s brothers and sisters, now eight of them, were zealous funeral-goers. Every funeral in the family had record attendances. This rural tradition is still faithfully maintained. Every funeral was followed by a generous provision of food in the vestry. Almost all those who attended the funeral, whether they lived near or far, would queue for their turn at the tables. The sadness of the occasion was generally forgotten in the pleasure of meeting friends and relatives, not seen since the last funeral, and in exchanging experiences. Indeed a funeral was looked upon as a social event and an occasion for meeting friends and relatives..
From 1961 to 1965 Mother managed to carry on with life on her own, although she had now passed her eightieth birthday. We visited her often at Fronolau and continued to enjoy the meals she gave us. Her fruit tarts and Welsh cakes were special delicacies. We also enjoyed spending part of the summer holidays in Fronolau and roaming about the countryside.
But senescence was beginning to take its toll and by 1965 she agreed to come to live with us in Fronlas, Llandeilo, and to sell Fronolau and most of its contents. An auction was held on a Saturday, when a large crowd of neighbours, relatives, and people from further afield put in an appearance. Two or three people vied with each other in pushing up the price of the bungalow, which finally reached £3,500, thought at that time to be more than the average price of a bungalow which lacked a bathroom and had a very small kitchen. Neighbours and friends made their contribution by making generous bids for the contents. By now with the addition of the bathroom and the extension to the kitchen, and also with the steep rise in inflation the price of the bungalow would be likely to reach about £40,000.
Mother settled down very well with us, and seemingly showed very little deterioration in her health. During her last years in Fronolau I had to make regular visits to the doctor in Carmarthen to renew the prescription for veganin tablets. She would be given a liberal supply by Dr Crane, who very rarely visited her to see how she was coping with old age. It seemed to me that the Doctor must have thought that at Mother’s advanced age there should be no limit to the pain-killers supplied and that he had no need to take into consideration any bad side-effects that might result and the doctors in Llandeilo must have thought so too, as the liberal prescriptions of tablets were continued without any question asked.
In her second year with us there were definitely signs of deterioration, which finally gathered such pace that she became seriously ill in the year 1967. But the trying time of nursing when she was confined to bed did not last long. She died on the 14th of July, 1967, at the advanced age of 88 years. Her funeral, like that of my father, was attended by people from far and wide. She was buried in the same grave as Father’s in Bwlchycorn cemetery. Ever since we have tried to visit the grave and to put flowers at least once a year. Now that Carrie and I are on the verge of celebrating our eightieth birthdays we wonder how long we can continue to pay our respects.
Now for the happy events of the Sixties! It looked as if Una and Glen’s ‘best-laid plans’ were coming to fruition. By the beginning of the Sixties Glen had completed his two years’ National Service and had been successful in obtaining a job in the branch of the Westminster Bank in Wind Street, Swansea, a step on the bottom rung of the ladder which in subsequent years he climbed to the very top.
So plans for getting married were set in motion. According to customary tradition all expenses of the actual wedding were to be covered by the bride’s parents. Fortunately, both parents and the happy couple agreed that the arrangements should be modest ones, putting the limit of the number of guests at around forty, and booking the reception at a modest but well-appointed guest-house. This was Cennen Farm, which had a stunning view of Carreg Cennen castle.
After the slow procession of the bride and father along the aisle and short marriage service conducted by the Rev Raymond Williams came the least enjoyable part of the proceedings, especially for the bride and groom: the taking of photographs by a very fussy local photographer. There was a very happy and cheerful atmosphere at the reception, with some apt and witty speeches.
After a honeymoon in Devon and Cornwall they returned to rent a flat in the centre of Swansea. But before very long they bought a small but comfortable new bungalow in Killay, and then seemed firmly and happily established in married life. There was at the time, of course, an element of sadness in the joy of the occasion. Father’s health was quite obviously and rapidly deteriorating, even more so after his fall. He died in June of the same year as the wedding.
The application for the post of Latin teacher at Rhyl High School brought about a happy and fateful change in Nest’s life. She immediately found a pleasant and amenable fellow-lodger and lasting friend in Mary Roberts, the Welsh mistress in the High School. She inherited a fairly flourishing Latin department and found her pupils to be well-behaved as well as having an aptitude for languages.
Both Mary and Nest, unlike me when I started teaching, were wise enough to find extra-school activities which gave them outside interests and an opportunity to forget those problems which arise in teaching, however amenable the pupils. Mary was a native of Abersoch and had a keen interest in rural and farming activities. So they both joined the Young Farmers’ Club of the area, and thereby their futures were settled.
Nest became friendly with a teacher in the Rhyl Secondary Modern School, who had as much interest in his father’s farm as in his school. Bryn Williams lived with his parents in Llwynderw Farm, Rhuallt near St Asaph. Mary became friendly with a young farmer, who was a close friend of Bryn’s, Gareth Parry of Fachell Farm, near Abergele. Both friendships developed into a final arrangement to get married.
The date fixed for Nest and Bryn’s wedding was the 14th of August, 1964. This time we had learned from Una’s wedding what procedures had to be followed and what preparations had to be made. Again we decided to have a wedding with the minimum of fuss and to limit the number of the guests to that which could be accommodated in the comparatively small guesthouse at Cennen Farm.
We managed to keep down the number on Nest’s side, but Bryn had several friends from the School, from the Young Farmers’ Club and from the Rhyl Choir that he wanted invited, as well as his relatives. However with careful discrimination the total was again kept to around forty. Nest wanted to invite two very special guests - Mary Claire, her room-mate in Madison University, who lived in the far West of the U.S.A., and Estelle and Leo, her husband, who were both Science Lecturers in Mexico University. When she sent invitations to these, Carrie and I thought that there was hardly any likelihood of their accepting. But, to Nest’s extreme pleasure, the invitations were accepted.
Mary Claire had been invited to stay with us for at least a week before the wedding, while Estelle and Leo were conveniently visiting Europe on a lecturing tour, and would fly to London, and then make their way to Llandeilo just in time for the wedding.
There were unforeseen complications before the day of the wedding. Nest became ill and had to be confined to bed, just when Mary Claire was supposed to arrive. The arrangements by letter which Nest had made for Mary Claire was for her to travel from London by train to Swansea, and there to be met by Nest, and then travel by bus on the final short journey to Llandeilo.
As it was impossible for Nest to leave her bed, it was arranged that I should go to meet Mary Claire on Swansea Station. There were problems with the arrangement. I had never seen Mary Claire, and so had to identify the girl who came off the London train who looked as if she were an American student. The other problem was that Nest was not absolutely sure what time the train from London should arrive. So that all that could be done was for me to watch the arrival of London trains from the morning to the evening, if necessary. And that was what happened. I met every train throughout the day without spotting anyone who looked remotely like a young female student from America. So I returned to Llandeilo to report to Nest the frustrations of the day.
Nest, of course, could not understand why Mary Claire had not turned up. So she decided to re-read the letters in which the arrangements had been made. To our surprise, and maybe not, as Nest could be careless in checking up, it was revealed that she had mistaken the date, and that Mary Claire was really due to arrive on the following day. So once more I had to follow on the next day the same tactics that I had already adopted.
I arrived early at Swansea High Street station and settled down to watch the arrival of the London trains. Midday came and no Mary Claire, and all afternoon the same result. By now, of course, I was becoming rather anxious and worried. But soon after tea-time, I saw a smart young woman who looked as if she could be the right person and so I approached her boldly, and, to the obvious pleasure of both of us, my hunch proved to be a correct one.
Mary Claire’s arrival at Fronlas proved to be the right tonic for Nest. She was soon able to leave her bed and to entertain her friend. It became obvious why Nest had been so happy in Madison. She had been extremely fortunate to have had such a charming sweet-tempered room-mate. Indeed, Mary Claire made a very favourable impression on both Carrie and me, and of course, on Bethan. It was a real pleasure to accompany her and Nest on some of their excursions out into the countryside. We were given the same impression when we met Estella and Leo, Estella a tall swarthy typical Mexican who was utterly charming and Leo short and jovial with an equal amount of charm.
The wedding service was again performed by the Rev. Raymond Williams, who failed to understand Bryn’s choice of hymns, but to Bryn’s credit he had chosen tunes which he knew would be rousingly sung by those guests who were members of Rhyl Choir. The guests on Nest’s side and the townspeople who attended the service were surprised to hear such powerful but correct singing by the small band of Northerners. Nest had not looked forward to the taking of photographs outside the chapel by the same fussy photographer as in Una’s wedding. She gave him such little cooperation that he soon lost his temper with her.
The reception at Cennen Farm Guest House put everybody into a good humour. The food was good and the speeches even better. The Northerners again shone in this respect. Several of them were experienced public speakers, one of them outshining all. Since then he has appeared prominently on Welsh television and radio, and is always prominent in the druidic ceremonies of the National Eisteddfod of Wales. He is known to all Welshmen as T. Gwynn Jones. The best man too performed his duties perfectly. Islwyn Parry, the Chemistry Master in Rhyl High School, was a faithful member of the Rhyl Choir and a practised speaker.
The happy and cheerful atmosphere in the reception was broken for Nest, if not for the young farmers present, by what happened in the farewell proceedings back in Fronlas. Knowing that the young farmers of North Wales were still keeping up the tradition of making the going-away a noisy affair and an embarrassing business for the happy couple, we had locked up Bryn’s going-away car in our garage, as Nest wanted very little fuss, no gay bedecking of the car or the attachment of noisy tin-cans to the rear bumper. But to the annoyance of the South, but to the delight of the North, some of the determined guests had found a screwdriver with which they had been able to prise the lock away, and so were able to bring out the car to be daubed with decorations that indeed so upset Nest that she started on the honeymoon journey in tears.
Bryn and Nest loved walking among the mountains and wildernesses of North Wales, and it was such a love that decided them to spend their honeymoon in the remote Western Isles of Scotland. They returned to set up home in Plas yn Cwm Lodge, where some alterations had been made, such as expanding the kitchen into a well-equipped modern one.
Bryn’s father, having established a flourishing farm complex at Llwynderw, Rhuallt, with the addition of the grazing land of neighbouring smallholdings whose buildings were in ruins, such as Hendre Bach and Penymynydd, was able to farm on a grand scale. It was mixed farming - milking cows, fat cattle, sheep and cereal crops. When Plas yn Cwm, a fine large mansion built at the end of the 19th century, adjoining Llwynderw’s land, came up for sale, Mr Williams bought it at a reasonably economical price. There belonged to Plas yn Cwm fifty acres of prime lowland pasture in the Vale of Clwyd.
Initially Mr and Mrs Williams continued to live in Llwynderw, while Eurfyl, the eldest son, with his wife Stella, were established in Plas yn Cwm. Eurfyl had high ambitions for farming in Plas yn Cwm. A huge shed was built for the rearing of turkeys, mainly in preparation for Christmas. The average number of turkeys, reared from chicks a few days old, was around 3,000. He also built piggeries big enough to house 800 bacon pigs. These were sold off when fit for slaughtering.
Such was the set-up in Plas yn Cwm, Llwynderw and the Lodge when we took Mother up to see Nest’s new home. The visit was her chief talking-point when we returned to Llandeilo. Whenever any of her relatives came to see her, she gave a full description of the wonders of farming by the family into which Nest had married. Having spent much of her life on small hill farms she was very impressed by the grand scale of farming at Plas yn Cwm and Llwynderw. She repeated the number of turkeys and pigs continually - 3,000 turkeys, 800 pigs!
These were exciting times for Carrie and me. Not long after experiencing the excitement of Nest’s wedding, we experienced the excitement of our first grandchild. Una gave birth to a baby boy on the 21st of October, 1964. David was born in a small cottage hospital in Killay.
Carrie decided to be at Una and Glen’s bungalow in Killay to receive mother and baby home. I have already intimated that their bungalow’s accommodation was rather cramped, but, with Carrie’s help, Una was soon able to cope on her own, and indeed it was not for long that they had to put up with such confined accommodation, as the Westminster Bank (or by now the National and Westminster Bank) authorities saw manager potential in Glen, and so kept moving him around banks in various localities, all with varying characteristics, in order that he should have the appropriate experience.
Glen’s frequent moves and promotions in the Bank took us to many interesting and indeed beautiful places. Our three daughters’ varying fortunes enabled us to see some of the favourite holiday resorts of England and of Wales. Glen’s first move from Swansea was to Cheltenham, that fashionable and aristocratic spa town with its rather exclusive shopping centre, beautiful parks and pleasant countryside. One of the pleasant countryside villages, with its newly-built open-plan estate was Charlton Kings, and it was there that Una and Glen found a suitable home. It was no financial hardship for Glen to make his frequent moves, since one of the perks that came from being employed by a Bank, and especially National Westminster Bank, was the granting of mortgages at a very favourable rate of interest.
Una’s second child was born in Charlton Kings on the 26th of July, 1966. So Iwan was born in England and David in Wales. As Iwan was born during my Summer holidays Carrie was again able to give expert help to Una, who now had to cope with a newly-born child as well as with a very active and busy 2 year old. I drove Carrie to Charlton Kings, but could not stay with her, as I was needed to look after Mother, now well and truly settled with us. But by the time I had to fetch Carrie at the end of a fortnight, Bethan had returned from a holiday in France with Bryn and Nest, and so she was able to look after Mother.
Soon after this it became obvious that Mother’s health was deteriorating and that senescence was progressing apace, not to be wondered at as she was now approaching 88 years of age.
Since writing the last sentence, a barren two or three months have elapsed and in the meantime I have reached the ominous landmark of eighty years of age, but as yet the obvious deterioration in Mother’s health due to her advanced age has not shown itself in my case. But there have appeared little pinpricks that my doctor, Dr John Hughes, had warned me of, after eighty. But I must carry on with my memoirs while my memory although failing, is still able to recollect important events in my life.
Fortunately for Carrie and me, Mother, in her failing health, did not put too much strain on our ability to perform the necessary nursing in her final weeks. The worst experience was watching the last moments of her passing away. Owing to my inability to openly demonstrate my filial love and affection, I have always regretted that I did not show her that love in her final moments. This was an experience that I had never had before and have not had since, for the death of our daughter Nest, in hospital, was communicated to us by her husband, Bryn.
Mother died on July 1967. She was buried in Bwlchycorn graveyard in Father’s grave. Her funeral was attended by a large crowd, even larger than in my father’s funeral. Again one side of the small chapel was occupied by relatives, and so the large number of friends and neighbours could not be wholly accommodated on the other side. This time Una was able to attend and so was Bethan. But Nest, being on holiday in the Hebrides, was unable to attend. However, she managed to send a vase of flowers by Interflora in time for the funeral.
A few months before Mother’s death, I had been seriously contemplating the pros and cons of an early retirement. At that time there were no inducements for early retiring such as redundancy payment and what is nowadays called ‘enhancement of retiring pension’. And indeed the date of my retirement could hardly be called ‘early’ when compared with the age at which large numbers of teachers retire these days. I was approaching 62 years of age, while my son-in-law, Bryn, has just retired at the age of 52.
Apart from feeling that I had reached a phase when teaching pupils, who were becoming less and less interested in my subject, was becoming less rewarding, there were other important considerations. The most important was the fact that the School was in the following year going to cease functioning as a Grammar School and would be merged with Llandybie Secondary Modern School to form a Comprehensive school in a new location - an old mansion near Ffairfach called Tregib. Being the Deputy Head of Llandeilo Grammar School I was not sure what my position would be in the Comprehensive School. Would I still continue as Deputy Head? This seemed unlikely as it seemed that the Head of the Grammar School would be the new Head and that then the Head of the Secondary Modern School would be the Deputy. There was too the fear that discipline would become more difficult to maintain and that the duty of maintaining discipline, for which I had been mainly responsible in the Grammar School, would become even more onerous.
However, before making the final decision I had to calculate what would be our likely financial situation. I realised that there would be a reduction in my income, but at the same time I felt in spite of inflation, the substantial lump sum given and the index-linked retirement pension, together with our savings, would be adequate for our needs in old age. And so it has turned out to be. We have found that our needs are now easily satisfied and that our income allows for a fair amount of money for investment.
While on the subject of investment, my youngest daughter, Bethan, often fails to understand why we are so careful with the money that is surplus to our needs, and that this money is continually invested so that we should have a comparatively large sum either in a Building Society or in National Savings. The simple reason for this is the fact that if I die and Carrie survives me, she will have no pension apart from the Old Age Pension, which I feel would not give her the standard of living and the security which she enjoys now. It was only when I was about to retire that the Government passed that teachers’ widows should have a pension in line with the years of service of the teacher. Should either of us have to go to a private Old People’s Home we should now be able to afford to pay the rather high charges for such accommodation.
After deciding to retire, the next question to be answered was ‘where’? Should we continue to live in Llandeilo or move elsewhere? It was not easy to make a decision on this matter. Again there were pros and cons in the situation. If we remained in Llandeilo we would be still in the School area and would continually be confronted by people comparing and contrasting the old with the new. It would be preferable to make a complete break from the past.
There was another reason for my preference for this course. By this time I had become the senior deacon in Capel Newydd Chapel and also the regular announcer (if that is the right term in English for ‘cyhoeddwr’) and so expected to be present at every service. I was also responsible for seeing that contributions at the end of the year were up-to-date. It so happened that the members in my Section, Section D, were in the poorest areas of Llandeilo. They either could not afford to contribute the expected sum, or they were really absentee members, never attending any service. So the reception I received in most houses when going round to try to collect a contribution, however small, from these families was often frigid and unwelcoming. The dwindling congregations also worried me. So discontinuing my membership was another factor in my deciding to find a home elsewhere.
One of the cons, of course, would be settling down in a strange area, leaving long-established friends, relationships that had been made over a period of nearly forty years. However, Carrie concurred in the view that it would be to our advantage to live near one of our three daughters, so that we could get some support in our failing years. The choice of which daughter was made without difficulty. Our eldest daughter, Una, was married to an ambitious banker, who had already been promoted several times, and had moved to different parts of the country. Our youngest daughter, Bethan, had not yet finished her College course, and so her future was uncertain.
Our second daughter, Nest, was married to a teacher in Rhyl, whose chief interest, apart from School, seemed to be his father’s farm in Rhuallt, near St Asaph, and in the mansion, plus farm, which was being run by his brother for his father. This set-up was obviously going to keep Nest and Bryn in the area. There were attractive seaside resorts nearby, especially Llandudno and Colwyn Bay, while to the East and fairly near were Chester, with its beautiful buildings shops, and old Roman walls, and Liverpool, a favourite shopping centre with centres of cultural activity and classical concerts, such as the Liverpool Philharmonic Hall. Another big attraction was the mountains of Snowdonia, easily accessible from Rhuddlan where we had now decided to find a bungalow, only about two miles from Plas yn Cwm Lodge, where Nest and Bryn had set up home.
So Carrie and I were easily persuaded that such a move would be a wise one, but Bethan’s viewpoint was that a move away from Llandeilo would deprive her of the friendships that she had made in Llandeilo Grammar School, and that the move to Rhuddlan would be a move to a strange area where she would have no friends, although Nest’s company would partly make up for this. As it turned out, Bethan was soon to find out that her school friends would set up homes in parts of England far removed from each other. However, these friends, to their credit, have kept in touch ever since.
The decision to move from Llandeilo having been made, the first task was to sell Fronlas and then to buy a bungalow in Rhuddlan. This was rather a trying and anxious time. We realised that the selling of Fronlas might be a long-drawn-out business. It was rather a large house, and not the type that would appeal to the majority of people looking for a suitable home. At the beginning we thought that we might have a quick sale as a new Manager had been appointed to Lloyd’s Bank and was looking for a largish house, which would uphold the status of a Bank Manager. It seemed that he was favourably impressed when he came to inspect the house, but not long after we were informed by the Estate Agent that he had decided against buying.
Then came a fairly long wait, and we were beginning to despair of selling, when an unexpected customer arrived. A large family whom Carrie knew very well when she was teaching in Capel Isaac, showed a keen interest, but we thought that they could hardly be serious prospective buyers, as they were considered to be rather poor and came of a dubious background. But it turned out that they had a well-to-do backer, and a man of substance, a director of the Beechwood Construction Company, which at that time was prospering.
The asking price was £5,500 and the backer, a relative of the Moses family, agreed with the price without demur, and promised that the cheque for that sum would be in the hands of the solicitor when the agreed date of moving arrived. When our neighbours heard of the sale and realised who their new neighbours were going to be they were far from pleased. However it seems that the Moses children were better behaved than expected, and the parents became accepted members of the Thomas Street community.
A buyer having been found for Fronlas, the next step was to find a suitable bungalow in Rhuddlan. Nest had a list of bungalows and houses for sale from the Estate Agents, Jones and Beardmore of Rhyl. Carrie has always insisted on having three bedrooms, so that she could accommodate members of the family on holiday. Nowadays after reaching the 80 mark this no longer seems a necessary amenity, and also since we live near Bethan and her family, any visiting member of our family are always accommodated by her, however large the number.
Of course, we could not buy a bungalow without ourselves inspecting it. So we decided to make a quick visit to Rhuddlan to view the few that seemed to be suitable to our needs. We viewed two or three from the outside and decided against them, without going inside. Then we came to Bodrhyddan Avenue where No. 3 was for sale. The location satisfied us, being situated on a service road, parallel with a main road, which was obscured from the bungalow by a thick hedge.
When we were admitted for viewing we found that all the rooms satisfied our requirements. The outside too was ideally laid out, a pleasant lawn and flower verges in the front, and behind a suitable garden surrounded on three sides by a fairly high wall which afforded the kind of privacy we liked. The view from the lounge window was of green fields stretching towards a hill overlooking Dyserth and Prestatyn. Another attraction was the proximity of Rhuddlan Golf Course, part of which could be clearly seen from the lounge. Another plus was the absence of any hills, Rhuddlan being situated on flat ground adjoining the river Clwyd and bordering the flat coastline of Rhyl.
The asking price for the bungalow was £6,500. As usual, I was ready to make a deal on the spot, but Carrie, with her customary cautious approach, wanted us to return home in order to give time for a thorough consideration of the advantages and any possible disadvantages. On the way home we both became convinced that we could not have a better buy in Rhuddlan. So by the time we arrived home, we agreed that we should drive up on the very next day to clinch the deal.
The date fixed for the move was November 1st. If I remember rightly, this gave us about four weeks to prepare. Firstly, we had to book a Furniture Remover. The most popular remover for our area was Falconer of Ammanford. An agreement was made at a cost of about £47 or £48, a price which turned out to be a reasonable one when compared with the other Furniture Removers.
Now began the planning for the big day, with, it must be confessed, characteristic attitudes by us. Carrie decided that she had everything under control and maintained a calm and unruffled attitude throughout, while I started to panic immediately the date was fixed. My main worry was what to do with the large numbers of books and papers that I had collected. I thought that the tea chests which were to be used would be far too heavy for the removers to handle.
So, without ado, I put aside a large number of books which I decided would be of no further interest or value for me. These I was going to either sell or to burn. I had some valuable books in the pile, the most important of which had been given to me from my Uncle Gomer’s possessions after he had been killed at a very young age in a motor-cycle accident. These were Frazer’s ‘Golden Bough’. The complete set was very heavy and getting rid of it would help to lighten the load. So I decided to take them, along with some rather heavy volumes to Ralph’s Second-hand Books Shop in Swansea. After a lot of haggling all I could draw out of Mr Ralph was £10 for books which had cost about £100 several years before, and a paltry sum for the other books. Many a time I have regretted having made such a sale.
Then I took further panic measures. I made quite a pile of old books and papers at the far end of the garden, and set fire to them. Even then I seemed to have a load of books which would need strong arms to lift. In the meantime Carrie packed some of the china and crockery at leisure, while I tried to hustle her along. All this panic was the result of not having made a previous move to a far distant locality. The only more we had made was one of about a hundred yards from Brynteg, Alan Road to nearby Fronlas in Thomas Street. That move was made in easy stages, the most difficult piece of furniture, a piano, being moved with the help of neighbours and a purpose-built trolley lent by Knell’s Music Shop.
By now we have had more experience of moving and lots of advice from Una, who has had to move long distances many times. Her advice was, ‘Leave it all to the Removers’. This turned out to be good advice, for we found that the different Removers that we engaged were able to cope quite easily with all the problems without our aid. On the day of the move, even though we had been unable to make all the preparations that we had intended, the two men from Falconer’s, without any bother, loaded everything by the time for setting off in the evening. A few odds and ends left we were able to stuff into our Morris 1300. Indeed, Carrie had so much stuff packed around her that she could hardly move.
We arrived safely in No 3, Bodrhyddan Avenue, Rhuddlan, late in the evening. Nest and Bryn were in Rhyl Choral Union’s rehearsal, but had switched on an electric fire in the lounge, while all the other rooms, of course, were cold and bare except that the floors were covered with the carpets, which had been included in the buying price. The removal van had been parked in the village and the two loaders stayed in one of the pubs. When Nest and Bryn called on their way home, we accompanied them to Plas yn Cwm Lodge to stay the night with them.
On the following morning the removal van was outside No. 3 ready to unload. This they did without any difficulty before lunch time. Then immediately after lunch the rain came down in torrents - just the kind of rain that is likely to test any defects in the way of leakages. The strong wind was blowing the rain on to the front door and in no time the carpet, immediately behind the door, was soaking wet. One of the bedroom windows was leaking water on the floor. Houses are generally sold in the spring and summer, a time when these defects cannot be spotted. However we were able before long to cure these defects. Then, apart from the regular maintenance required by a dwelling, we were happily established in a well-appointed and comfortable bungalow, which was much easier to run then the large and old-fashioned house we had in Llandeilo.
No neighbours living in Bodrhyddan Avenue came to welcome us. They remained aloof apart from one who proved later to be a fund of information about the area and to be ready with his advice on financial matters. Eric Hopley was a retired banker from the Manchester area. Both he and his wife Alice were friendly people, which could hardly be said of our next-door neighbours. On one side we had neighbours who had a Bingo Hall in Rhyl and with whom we were unlikely to have any common interests. On the other side the neighbour was a Gas adviser and administrator who had been widowed the previous year and was later found to have a liaison with a young widow from Rhyl. It was obvious that he did not want his private affairs to become known. He eventually married this widow, and so Mr and Mrs Stretton developed into friendly neighbours like the Hopleys.
We had moved to Rhuddlan on a Thursday; on the following Thursday we were singing in a rehearsal of the Rhyl Choral Union. Nest and Bryn had been members of the Choir for several years and, knowing of our love of choral music, they persuaded us to join the Rhyl Choir and so we were plunged into the middle of the choir’s preparation for two important concerts, the first to sing Mendelssohn’s Elijah at the Liverpool Philharmonic Hall in conjunction with the Liverpool Welsh Choir and the pre-Christmas performance of the Messiah in St Thomas’ Church in Rhyl.
The concert in Liverpool was due in about a week or two from our first rehearsal, and since the work was unfamiliar to us, apart from one or two choruses that had been sung in our ‘Cymanfaoedd Canu’ in Llandeilo, we told Nest that we could not possibly join the Choir in the Liverpool performance. But she would not hear of it, and assured us that we would be drowned by the huge double choir of experienced singers and indeed that we could mime those parts which we found too difficult, and then her other argument was that it would be an experience that should not be missed. So we were persuaded to take part, although with some trepidation, in the prestigious Liverpool Philharmonic Hall along with the highly rated Liverpool Welsh Choir.
I had anticipated that as the Liverpool Welsh Choir was considered to be the superior choir, their singers would be in the front and that the Rhyl singers would be at the back of the choir. But the arrangement turned out to be the reverse: Rhyl in front and the Liverpool Welsh in the back, and I found myself in the very front row. The question was, ‘How was I to cover my ignorance of some of the choruses?’, but to my delight I was able to sing fairly well by reading at first sight the music as the powerful bass voices of the Liverpool Welsh just behind could be heard much better in the front than if I were behind them. So in the end everything turned out to be a very enjoyable experience, and what is more we felt after that that we were established members of the Choir and that we had set up if not close friendships, close acquaintances.
Then we had sufficient rehearsals for the Messiah concert to feel capable of singing the choruses, especially as we were surrounded by singers who had become well-familiarised with the Handelian choruses. Actually I felt confidently capable in the company of Bryn and his friends, Glyn the Post and Wilf the Chemist, all very sound and powerful singers. Carrie too had the company of Nest and her friends.
Realising that if we were to become, as it were, integrated with the people of Rhuddlan we had decided that it was our task to go more than halfway towards making friendships and acquaintances in the local community. So when we saw a notice in the local newspaper, the Rhyl Journal, that the Rhuddlan Welsh Society was holding its first meeting of the Winter Session on the Friday in the week following that when we attended the Rhyl Choral Union rehearsal, we decided that this was an opportunity not be to missed.
So, completely on our own initiative we put in an appearance at this meeting. We were among complete strangers, there was no one there of whom we knew anything; every face was a strange face. But our uncomfortable feeling was soon dispelled. In the interval of the meeting, which was in the form of a concert, coffee and biscuits were served to everyone present. A pleasant smiling young lady asked us, in Welsh of course, if we would like sugar in our coffee and when we opened our mouths to reply, she said, ‘You come from the South!’. We said, ‘Yes’, and then she told us that she also was a South Walian, actually from Kidwelly, and had married a North Walian teacher. In the meantime she informed some of the more influential members of the Society that we were newcomers from the South. One of them, Tom Charles, the Headmaster of the local school, came over to give us a welcome.
Tom Charles proved to be a man of strong personality and of much charm. He persuaded us to attend the service at his chapel, Ebenezer, on the following Sunday and that was the beginning of our becoming acquainted not only with the Welsh community, but with the members of the chapel in which we became members for the ten or so years we lived in Rhuddlan.
Why should there be a Welsh Society in Rhuddlan? There was no such society in Llandeilo, and both Rhuddlan and Llandeilo are Welsh villages. However, we soon realised that there was a vast difference in the two types of residents. Although there was quite a large number of non-Welsh-speakers in Llandeilo, they were actually Welsh, and there were only a few residents who were genuinely English and had an English accent in their speech. In Rhuddlan there were two distinctly different factions - the one truly Welsh with a good command of the Welsh language, with the majority coming from the rural areas of North Wales, the other truly English with their speech having a Liverpool or Manchester accent: they were immigrants from England. It transpired that these formed the majority of the Rhuddlan residents, although the complaint of the self-centred English was that there were ‘too many bloody Welshmen’ in Rhuddlan.
The majority of our neighbours in Bodrhyddan Avenue were English, and with the exception of the Hopleys they remained aloof from us, and it took us a year or two to establish a neighbourly attitude towards one another, and indeed the Hopleys were primarily responsible for this. Mrs Hopley and Carrie became at the same time members of the Women’s Institute. This gave Carrie an entry into the society of both Welsh and English, and since the W.I. had two sections, one consisting of the younger element who held their meetings in the evening, and the other comprising the older element who met in the afternoon, she was able to mix with women of similar age to hers, and with both Welsh and English, since at that time there was no ‘Merched y Wawr’ in the village.
I had decided when retiring to Rhuddlan that I was going to retire completely from any social activities. But my resolution was well and truly broken. First of all, Nest put pressure on us to join the Rhyl Choir. So that brought about our involvement in a musical activity. Then another persuasive person put pressure on me, but not Carrie, to attend the Chapel Sunday School and then to join a W.E.A. class with the Rev. Hugh Williams as tutor. The persuasive person was, of course, the already-mentioned Tom Charles.
Actually I was a non-active member of the Sunday School class and of the W.E.A. class. That is, I took part in the discussions, but refused to become the Sunday School’s class teacher when Tom Charles died and although I was made a president of the W.E.A. class for one year, I took no part in its administration, just presiding over such meetings as the special tea at the end of the session.
However I did take quite a prominent part in the discussions. I felt that I should bite my tongue and withhold from controversy, but the temptation to speak out and to express my opinions was too great. I am afraid that I gained the reputation of being a cynical critic of all orthodox views. The Sunday School class was composed of the older members, several of them older than I was and well entrenched in their orthodox view, whereas I was prepared to question the validity of many of the Christian dogmas, and on the whole adopted the Socratic method of questioning many of the statements of the class.
Bethan was starting her third year at Aberystwyth University when we moved to Rhuddlan and seemed to accept the change in her life-style. It seemed that she had become friendly with a fellow biology student, and as a result of his being English had become less interested in the Welsh Nationalist cause. This student had an unusual surname - Hartnup - and hailed from Kent. However, his fondness for walking in the mountains of Wales induced him to learn the names of the Welsh mountains and of the names of the towns and villages, and he acquired the ability to pronounce a name like Machynlleth with a perfect Welsh accent.
Soon after the friendly relationship between Bethan and Richard was established in their third year in College, Nest’s first son was born and it was then that we came to know Richard. They came up from Aberystwyth on a Saturday to see Nest and her first-born. They stayed the night with us in Bodrhyddan Avenue, and then returned on the following afternoon. There is a particular reason for my remembering this. I gave them a helping hand by giving them a lift for part of the return journey, that is as far as Bala. I dropped them in the main street, where the unfortunate incident, so vividly remembered, happened. The main street in Bala is lined with trees, between which cars are able to part. When I turned round I reversed the car, not realising that there was a tree right behind me. The result was quite a dent in the rear of the car. The damage, which was not extensive, was repaired at my own expense.
It is becoming increasingly difficult for me to remember the dates and the sequence of events in the last fifteen years or so. This is a characteristic of old age, I am told - remembering the long-ago and forgetting the immediate past. So in the continuation of my memoirs I shall ignore dates, just concentrating instead on topics.
The friendship between Richard and Bethan developed to the extent that before sitting their finals in 1969 they had made plans to study together for a further degree in Ecology at Durham or Aberdeen, and to get married. However, after receiving their degree results they decided to apply for jobs requiring the knowledge and expertise they had gained from their studies. They succeeded in gaining an interview with the Soil Survey of England and Wales. Richard was successful, but Bethan failed to persuade the interviewer that she was the type of woman who could carry out a job which was more eminently suitable for a man. But this was not to deter them from carrying out their plans for marriage.
So it was decided that they should get married in Rhuddlan in September. Richard was posted to Harrogate, and so Bethan decided to apply for a teaching job in that area, and in the meantime to earn some money during the summer vacation. This she did by becoming an assistant in a cake and pastry shop in Rhyl.
Arrangements were made for the wedding to take place in Ebeneser Chapel, Rhuddlan, with the minister, the Rev Hugh Williams, officiating. This was a happy occasion marred by a sad and even traumatic experience. Just as the young people were being instructed in the lounge by the Rev Hugh Williams on what would be the procedures of the wedding ceremony, Nest turned up in the kitchen through the back entrance. She burst into tears, telling us that the result of an examination in Rhyl Hospital was the shattering information that she had a cancerous growth in her breast. More of this when I have described the wedding.
Bethan and Richard’s wedding took place towards the end of September, 1969, just one months before Bethan’s twenty first birthday. To their credit, they desired a very quiet wedding - no guests apart from the immediate families, no previous announcement, no formal reception, no traditional white wedding. It was a close family affair. Nest had expressed her wish to play the chapel organ in the ceremony and in spite of having the traumatic news in the meantime, she insisted on carrying out her wish. She showed a very brave face and entered wholeheartedly into the spirit of the occasion.
In order to complete the arrangements without any fuss we booked a lunch at the Bryn Morfydd Hotel for the following guests:- Mr and Mrs Hartnup, Mavis, Richard’s sister and her friend Jan, Una Glen and their two boys, David and Iwan, Bethan, Nest and Bryn, Carrie and I, while the Minister and his wife were invited as well.
Carrie and I had had one or two lunches in the hotel previously, and so we knew that the food was good, with an extensive choice of course. In spite of our not having mentioned it, I feel sure that the manager and the waitresses had a strong suspicion that we were celebrating either a wedding or a very special occasion. However we, as the bride’s parents, had a very reasonable bill - something which we would not have had, we feel sure, had we said that it was a wedding reception. The food was excellent and so was the choice of menus, but above all there was an atmosphere of joy and happiness, with both families finding each other’s company extremely enjoyable.
After the so-called wedding reception, we all returned to Bodrhyddan Avenue for the cake and just one speech, and then the happy couple (as they say in the journalise of the local papers) left for their honeymoon - just one night in an hotel in Chester - and then proceeded to a furnished flat they had rented in Harrogate.
In the meantime Bethan had been fortunate in obtaining a teaching post in Leeds, in a Catholic Secondary School called the Notre Dame High School for Girls. So although their well-laid plans in the first instance had ‘gang agley’, all had ended well. They were both now earning quite good salaries, and were able to start their married life in fairly comfortable circumstances.