Post by howardthomas on Sept 27, 2008 15:18:08 GMT 1
The Merthyr Diaspora (or The Baby Boomers' Betrayal)
Seated one day at the laptop
With my hiraeth (and homesickness too)
I decided to enter 'Old Merthyr'
To ask it a question or two.
What happened to dear old Dowlais
With its chapels and pubs and great school
From where many were launched on life's journey
With learning - that wonderful tool?
And where are 'Ienctyd Y Castell'
The ones who went off far and wide
Abandoning poor old Merthyr
'The Town', R. S. Lee wrote, 'That Died'?
Then all the ghost places came tumbling
Penydarren, Heolgerrig and Twyn
Pontsticill, Treharris, The Gurnos
And, out of the town, Ffynon Dwyn.
The chapels strode out of the shadows
Bethania and Hebron as well
Though their pews are now all almost empty
They still have a story to tell
Of a time when revival was widespread
And the rafters would echo with praise
And souls, feared lost, were recovered
To serve God the rest of their days.
From the laptop the pubs came staggering
(They were 'full' to the rafters as well)
The drinkers, too, singing God's praises
So loud they'd not hear the last bell.
The spectres of industry summoned
To remind me how once they were great
Until the owners, the scourge of The Valleys,
Consigned everyone to their fate.
'Characters' drifted towards me
Sid Hill (from The Lamb), Peter Gall
'Teacher Bessy' and others, so many
The laptop could not save them all.
The ghosts of Cyfarthfa then called me
(Not Crawshay, nor even his wife)
But the teachers and those who were with me
For the formative years of my life.
The photos propelled themselves at me
Lloyd-Williams, May Treharne and Dan
Whatever their failings and foibles
They helped shape the man that I am.
The ghosts of the pupils were there too
Robert Lynne, Philip Madoc and all
So many in different vocations
I don't know how they all heard the call.
The laptop could not give me answers
Though its stimulus guided me through
My reflections towards explanations
Which, to some extent, I always knew.
Dowlais will be Dowlais for ever
Though its chapels and pubs are now still
The people still care for each other
Through good times or bad times or ill.
And as for the 'traitors' who left there
From Cyfarthfa (and other schools too)
I know that Merthyr will forgive them
For doing what they had to do.
Enlightened by Merthyr's experience
And encouraged to go their own way
They each tread their different pathways
But always remember to say
'I'll never forget where I came from
Or what my home town did for me
How its people, it love and its culture
All helped to set my spirit free'.
Howard Thomas
September 2008.
Seated one day at the laptop
With my hiraeth (and homesickness too)
I decided to enter 'Old Merthyr'
To ask it a question or two.
What happened to dear old Dowlais
With its chapels and pubs and great school
From where many were launched on life's journey
With learning - that wonderful tool?
And where are 'Ienctyd Y Castell'
The ones who went off far and wide
Abandoning poor old Merthyr
'The Town', R. S. Lee wrote, 'That Died'?
Then all the ghost places came tumbling
Penydarren, Heolgerrig and Twyn
Pontsticill, Treharris, The Gurnos
And, out of the town, Ffynon Dwyn.
The chapels strode out of the shadows
Bethania and Hebron as well
Though their pews are now all almost empty
They still have a story to tell
Of a time when revival was widespread
And the rafters would echo with praise
And souls, feared lost, were recovered
To serve God the rest of their days.
From the laptop the pubs came staggering
(They were 'full' to the rafters as well)
The drinkers, too, singing God's praises
So loud they'd not hear the last bell.
The spectres of industry summoned
To remind me how once they were great
Until the owners, the scourge of The Valleys,
Consigned everyone to their fate.
'Characters' drifted towards me
Sid Hill (from The Lamb), Peter Gall
'Teacher Bessy' and others, so many
The laptop could not save them all.
The ghosts of Cyfarthfa then called me
(Not Crawshay, nor even his wife)
But the teachers and those who were with me
For the formative years of my life.
The photos propelled themselves at me
Lloyd-Williams, May Treharne and Dan
Whatever their failings and foibles
They helped shape the man that I am.
The ghosts of the pupils were there too
Robert Lynne, Philip Madoc and all
So many in different vocations
I don't know how they all heard the call.
The laptop could not give me answers
Though its stimulus guided me through
My reflections towards explanations
Which, to some extent, I always knew.
Dowlais will be Dowlais for ever
Though its chapels and pubs are now still
The people still care for each other
Through good times or bad times or ill.
And as for the 'traitors' who left there
From Cyfarthfa (and other schools too)
I know that Merthyr will forgive them
For doing what they had to do.
Enlightened by Merthyr's experience
And encouraged to go their own way
They each tread their different pathways
But always remember to say
'I'll never forget where I came from
Or what my home town did for me
How its people, it love and its culture
All helped to set my spirit free'.
Howard Thomas
September 2008.
