Walking in my dad’s footsteps
Since my recent visit to the coalmine in Pleasley where my dad worked as an electrician for about ten years in the 1950’s, he has been constantly in my mind. As a small child, I never realised or gave much thought as to where he went to work or what his job entailed.
I only knew that sometimes he wasn’t there when I woke up in the morning, and at other times, we had to be quiet because he’d been on ‘night shift’ and was having a few hours’ sleep in the daytime, before going to tend to the allotment which was his pride and joy. I was aware that he brought home a pay packet every Friday, which mom used to manage, to make sure that all the bills got paid, and there was usually a bit left over for the holiday fund and our ‘Saturday Sixpence’ pocket money…
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