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Born at West house, Broad Street, Hay in December 1901 my father’s older sisters often told mysister Ann and I, that on the day he was born there was such a severe snow storm that the familywere very worried that the local midwife would not be able to get to the house.Father’s long life was not remarkable or unusual but he lived through a period that in social,economic and technological terms, more transformations occurred than any other previous period inhistory. When he was born, there was no electricity in Hay; there were no cars and no telephones.Within the wider world, aeroplanes had not flown, the internal combustion engine was in its infancyand the only forms of transport were the horse or the railway. All this changed beyond recognition by the time he passed away in 1995.During his long life he lived only in Hay. He didn’t go anywhere overseas and because he was adedicated shopkeeper, never went away on holiday, certainly during the time he had his own business as a tobacconist and confectioner on The Pavement. When my sister and I were small,Mother took us on short breaks away but Dad never came. The business came first. The other greatinterest in his life was gardening, at which he excelled. Living and working at the shop meant wedid not have any outdoor space so he rented, over the years, the biggest allotment patches he couldfind. The first one I remember was at the top of Belmont Road and covered almost the whole areawhere Carlesgate now stands. His later patch, which he had until he and Mother retired in 1973,was the garden at the rear of the council offices. Both these gardens were immaculate and muchadmired by all his friends and local people. The home grown vegetables he produced were superband his dahlias were a sight to behold.

Broad Street, Hay at about the time father was born.West House is on the immediate left The Pugh family in 1895.This photograph was taken before Dad and his youngest sister Joyce were born. Fromleft to right are Gertrude, Grandfather John Lewis Pugh, Edith stood at the back, Hilda in front, Grandmother Mary Janeand Thomas.

Dad or ‘Billy Pugh’ as he was known to everyone in Hay and district was born into a family with afather who believed in a strict Victorian upbringing. He was the youngest of 6 children, four girlsand two boys. Discipline and respect were paramount in the home. When the two boys sat down toa meal they had to each undo their belts and no talking was allowed at the table. Disobedienceusually resulted in “the strap”. Mum told me several times that my Grandfather had been “a verystrict man”.Grandfather John Lewis Pugh was a shoemaker and repairer. He specialised in making the ladieshigh buttoned boots which were much in fashion in those days. I still have a pair of men’s’ bootsthat grandfather had made and several of his original tools. Father was just 19 when his father died.Thankfully, Dad turned out to be a placid and gentle man. His honesty and straightforwardnesswere acclaimed throughout the district.Religion also played a major part of life in the Pugh household. Father was a pupil at the NationalChurch School in Brecon Road and was a choirboy at St. Mary’s Church where he had also beenchristened in 1902. I remember Dad telling me that for a time his father became interested in the preaching of Father Ignatius at Capel-y-ffin. This also demonstrated the walking abilities of theVictorians and their forebears. Grandfather would rise very early on a Sunday morning, walk over to Capel-y-ffin to attend the service and be back in time for dinner at midday.Father was 14 and approaching the end of his time at school, when hisheadmaster Harry Morris, who father always considered a “very niceman”, entered the classroom and in tears told the pupils that his onlyson, Lieutenant Geoffrey Morris had been killed on the Somme. Yearslater I realised that he had been killed exactly 20 years to the day before I was born. The Memorial Chapel in St. Mary’s was presented by Mr. Morris and his wife in memory of Geoffrey and subsequentlythe chapel commemorated all the lads from Hay who had given their lives in the Great War.I remember Dad with tears in his eyes when we used to attend theannual Remembrance Day service together at Church. Many of theselads were his contemporaries. He was one of the few lucky ones. Hewas too young for the first war and failed his medical for the second.More details about this later. It was especially poignant, when inthose days at the Remembrance Service; all the names of those whohad lost their lives were read out to the congregation.Upon leaving school his father had arranged with a Mr. Kedwards,who had a grocery shop in Broad Street, that father would work for him as an errand boyand apprentice in the grocery trade. According to Dad, he loathed the arrangement and disliked Mr.Kedwards instantly, who proved to be a bit of a tyrant. He soon left amidst much disagreement withhis father. He was then persuaded to take up shoemaking with his father but this again didn’t work.Although during this period he did learn the rudiments of his father’s trade.At this time there was another grocer in Broad Street by the name of Hitchcox and a son of thisfamily became a great boyhood friend. His name was Eric and one of their favourite games was toget hold of some empty tin cans from the grocery shop, tie string through pierced holes and walk ontop of a can underneath each foot, held on by the string up and down Broad Street. Many accidentsensued from this pastime both to the boys and passers-by. They were performing this ‘trick’ inBroad Street one windy day when a slate blew off one of the roofs and landed on father’s head.Quite what happened afterwards I don’t know, but he had this deep scar at the top of his foreheadfor the remainder of his life.

Harry Morris. Headmaster of HayChurch School