I work in conjunction with the two local Universities and several care homes seeking ways to assist those living with dementia. Part of my work entails using drama and the written word to address thoughts and feelings as expressed by those with whom I work.
Over the past month I've completed a poem which records the emotions of Avril on the day her weeping father dressed her ahead of the official closing of North Wallbottle Colliery. It was of course the day he lost his job. It had never crossed my mind that such an event could continue to impact so heavily across the generations but Avril opened my eyes to the reality with her thoughtful words.
She made me recognise that for some, as the poem concludes, "there will be no closure".
(1959)
I could sense the tension
barely suppressed emotion
properly expressed elsewhere;
a sense of sadness
father beside my bed
laying out my clothes;
an unfamiliar order.
My mother's job not his
for he was a man of picks,
of shovels, of coal and of shafts.
A man's man
a mine's man,
now in decline
his tears extracting mine.
Pegswood to North Walbottle:
a life divided
to be divided once again,
unalterable change
we both grow cold
both grew old
our cheeks with tears stained.
Youth solemnly prepared
for a mournful event
the clothing of the child
emotion running wild
working men exiled
politically reviled.
The clothing of the child
the closing of a life
the close.
Mike Jones January 30th 2016
On behalf of Averil Dawson, her family and the miners of North East England.
The best photo I can find though is on the Alamy website (which chages for use of its photos) so I only link to it here. The photo from Mirrorpix was taken on 18th May 1949 and is titled: It's almost 10am and the day shift men enjoy a last smoke and a chat before descending the Betty Pit of North Walbottle Colliery to commence their day's work.
Mike's second version of this poem dated November 30th 2016 is slightly different. It recalled, not the closure of the collieries, but the ever-present dangers of a coal miner's life, and the devastating injuries that can also end their working lives. The 3rd and 4th verses in this version are changed as below:
one injury for every single year
until reprieve and celebration.
Then a broken back.
Lives rearranged,
unalterable change.
We both grow cold
both grew old
our cheeks with tears stained.
Youth solemnly prepared
for a mournful event
the clothing of the child
emotion running wild
a human being exiled
working life defiled.
Over subsequent weeks and indeed months Averil and I met to discuss and alter the poem according to her wishes. Sadly, due to progressive dementia, she remained confused as to the precise events which had led to her distress. Family, she said, had observed that the facts as written were not accurate. We altered the material on a regular basis yet could not resolve the mystery until a chance meeting between myself and Averil's younger brother Fred. He was able to explain that their father, William Henry Spry, had worked in the coal mines of Northumberland between 1935 and 1957. Each year he had experienced an accident. Celebrations were in order when he managed to survive the whole of 1958 without injury. Tragically however the following year he broke his back while in the colliery and was never able to undertake this work again.
Averil, Fred and I discussed what should be done with the poem. We recognise that, although inaccurate, it nevertheless captured experiences which were relevant to the lives of so many across this region. At the same time the poem's own history reflected upon a very modern day concern, that of dementia, as epitomised by Averil's attempts to capture her father's story with accuracy. Furthermore her moving account and emotional use of words underlined how significant events, as perceived from childhood, can impact powerfully in later life. Ultimately therfore it was felt that the work still retained validity and should be sent to the Miner's Institute for their information.
It was also suggested that alterations be made to the original in an effort to, while retaining its general structure and sentiments, reflect the actual events of this part of William Henry Spry's working and domestic life. I hope that together the two works, with their interesting origins and anomalies, do justice to his memory and to the memories of all miners and their families.