In an earlier blog, I wrote of my family enduring three tragedies in three years.
The loss of my maternal grandfather (my Taid) in the Gresford mine disaster in 1934, one of the 266 men and boys, was a national event mourned by all nationwide. The second family tragedy in 1937, affected just two families, in particular, and their friends and mining colleagues.
My uncle, Tom, my mother’s youngest brother, was courting a young local girl, Betty Evans, when the Gresford mine disaster occurred. Betty and her family lived in the outskirts of Wrexham, and her father was one of the miners also killed.
Tom lost his father and his future father–in-law, and Betty lost her father and her future father-in-law. The deaths were so personal, so overwhelming for these two young people, drawing them closer together. Betty fell pregnant and she and Tom married and left the area, moving to the mining area of Staffordshire.
In the early Spring of 1937, an explosion occurred in the ‘Brymbo’ pit, one of the mines owned by a Holding Group. Tom was one of the Rescue Team and went down the pit. A further explosion occurred, and Tom was killed. His wife, Betty, gave birth to their second daughter a few days later. I was born a few months later and I carry the name Thomas.
I offer a short poem in this blog in tribute to all those brave Mines Rescue Teams. The poem is in BOOK FIVE of POEMS BY AN OLD CODGER.
COAL MINES RESCUE TEAMS
Men of great courage and special grit,
When called, stepped forward to descend their broken pit.
Never faltered, trained to rescue their fellow men,
Not knowing what was waiting in that deep black den.
A Rescue Team of Captain and six trained men
Stand prepared to do their job, accept their burden.
Find their friends trapped or lying down below,
The cage descends; the gates are opened slow.
What will they encounter as they leave the cage?
For the life of the mine, is this its last page?
Bodies rigid, bodies bleeding, in the dark,
The scene before them may be quite stark.
They know the drill as they go into gear,
Steady their nerves, hold back their fear.
Is there air supporting fire? Is there gas?
A roof fall blocking any means to pass.
Is there life, a moan, a structural groan,
Rescuing is the job they own.
To save a life can be a challenge too far,
But success should be a Medal and Bar.
Copyright 2025 Neil Davies
I hope this poem gives food for thought of those brave men who, like lifeboat crews, show no fear as death threatens and do their duty for their kin.
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Thank you,
Take care,
Neil.