’It was 18, oh aye. The Sergeant, the bobby, used to come round on a Saturday night and pop his head round the corner. Then we used to go to Jocker’s--I forget the name of it now. [The Dun Cow Inn] Opposite where I had the photograph taken. When I got to be 19 or 20 we used to go to the Colliery Inn, Spearman’s Arms, Ginger’s--the Railway Tavern.’

And he got his coal from the wagons?

’His sons, man! Why aye! They used to get over the railway and the sets used to be there. Why, at night time a couple of them, they used to get over the railings and onto the top of the trucks and chuck the coal over. There was truckloads used to go down, tons and tons of it. Roundies, big roundies like that, and they used to chuck them over, put them into bags and take them into the pub. Why nor! He never bought any coal, Ginger! He had one, two, three, four, he had five fires in that place and in the winter every bloody one was on! Aye, he was a character him! Oh, the Dun Cow, that was the one. Jocker Appleby used to have it. Big Jocker.’

You used to got to the Loco at Trimdon?

’Oh, that was me and Owen Filon. We were just getting on 18, about the same time. We used to go over there. Sometimes we used to go to Haswell.’

The Plough Inn?

’No, into the village. No, the Plough wasn’t built until 1937. I worked on that.’

Your father wasn’t keen on you drinking?

‘Keen! Yer bugger! There used to be hell on! But he packed it in at the finish and then the war came and that was it.’

Was he still at the pit when the war started?

’Oh aye.’

And then he got his job in Newcastle?

’Eeh hell. Low Fell, just going on. Just before you get to Gateshead. He went up and he saw a couple of houses there, but he dropped the biggest clanger he ever dropped in his life. If he’d have said, “We’ll buy a house in Durham,” then he could have commuted from Durham, which would have been far easier for him, then we would have gone, but I wouldn’t go, I says “I don’t want to live in Low Fell.”’

And your brothers and sisters were the same?

’Aye, well we were all working then, more or less independent. I was making good money. I says, “I’ll go into bloody lodgings first!” But if he’d have bought a house in Durham, I’d have been quite content.’

So he was still at the pit when you started work?

’Oh aye, he got that job in 1939, or 1940, I think. The Ministry of Fuel and Power and then when the Coal Board took over he got on with them. That was in ‘47. Aye, but
if he’d gone to Durham he’d have just walked up to the station.’

NEXT: More Memories of Hubert Tunney

Hubert Tunney, 1890-1974 Index Page

Having started work aged 13 at Kelloe Pit in 1902, my grandfather finally left his job at the Thornley coal face in 1941. As remembered at left, his daily commute to Newcastle from Thornley involved a convoluted detour to Easington Lane. Very few people had cars in 1941 Thanks to Owen Rowland for researching this item.
Hubert Tunney's New Job, 1941