Made in Tudda!
"The life, to date, of an ordinary lad from an ex-mining village with a mildly interesting twist…or two!"
Well, It all begins in a small ex-mining village, Tudhoe Colliery in County Durham. Ex, as ‘the pit’ closed in the 30’s, not the first unfortunate event to ‘strike’. Prior to this in 1882, an underground explosion took the lives of 36, many were under 17 years of age. A pertinent number we will revisit.
The community however, still retained that mining spirit long after the closure, as mining culture is woven into the DNA of that part of the world, even those that leave! Up until my generation (X), young men were not only guaranteed a job for life, they were sometimes frog-marched down the mine for life, prematurely or otherwise. The Miners Strike 1984/85 and it’s punitive response would see the ongoing and sad demise of not only the mining industry but the birthplace of the last Industrial Revolution.
“My father’s helmet sits on the sideboard—Tudhoe 1919. I slung it on my head marching to Ferryhill bridge. A bobby (police) told me take it off; I told him no. My dead are marching too.” ~ Rev. Terence Blenkinsop
I watched my dad struggle through that period which, probably influenced my indifferent tone toward the school system. We very much inherited a different and rapidly changing world to our parents. We simply weren’t given the suitable tools to deal with the new post heavy-industrial world all of my immediate ancestors knew, and maybe took for granted?
First, Tudhoe Colliery Junior School.
Anything it was possible to kick was used as a football whenever possible. Beatings were still a thing (by the teachers) as were rounds of caning by the headmaster, in between being regaled by tales of his war time exploits. He also played an active part in ‘coaching’ the football team; mainly by screaming “SHOOOOOOOOT“ at every player who received the ball. He was great and I scored a few as a result, the Sir Alex Ferguson of The Colliery!
At comprehensive school I concentrated my academic efforts on general ‘messing around’ (in and out of the woods) and not being battered. I received suitable reward, ‘next to nowt‘ but a straight-ish nose. My careers interview advisor described my career prospects as “you’ll probably end up in prison”. I met him later after that first degree, I’m not certain he remembered it like I did!
After a brief flirtation with Durham technical college which, also seemed a little fruitless given that the industrial base was being ‘rationalised’ to economic emaciation at the time. I followed up on a quid bet (One GBP) to join the British Army. My youthful exuberance just got the better of me and at 17 convinced me mam it was a great idea (I was too young to sign up). I realized it was not a great idea in about the time it took for them to remove all my hair with what looked like well worn sheep shears…“in for a penny in for a pound”!
“You′re in the army now, oh-oo-oh you're in the army now“ ~ Status Quo
My last interview prior to training was with this time, the Army Careers Advisor! He was some swivel-eyed old mustachioed artillery officer who convinced me that a career in the Engineering/Medical core(s) was “not for a young adventure seeking lad like me”…<whips out pictures of large artillery pieces>, “this is exactly what you need lad”…”Aye, aye it is yer right sir”!
6 months of tepid hell in Woolwich London, then off to frigid Dortmund Germany… to defend the Iron Curtain! One night I had to guard a side gate alone, a known political intractable from the other side of ‘The Curtain‘, waved a gun around he just pulled out of his expensive Adidas bag. Anyway, he promptly left, after a mini Mexican standoff worthy of “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly“. I then called out the guard and was then promptly interrogated and escorted to the cells for the night for not shooting him! When he was later ‘picked up’ and searched, the German police found a starting pistol. I thought at the time, that’s a crap gun mate and never really thought he was much of a threat…I could have been dead wrong also!
On a more tragic note, we had a disastrous exercise in Canada that left 4 or 5 (it was one of those, what another one moments) dead including a popular Captain from our battery'. Decapitated in a horrifying helicopter stunt gone wrong. The pilot ‘exited prematurely’ from a 360 ‘loop de loop’ and landed his rig in the middle of us as we scattered. I had a front row seat for that show. Scores of vehicles all fueled up and fully stocked with 100’s of tons of highly volatile ammunition. We exhausted a number of guardian angels that day, we could have done with a few more reserves though.
The same exercise, I was also knocked unconscious by a recoiling breach (many tons of steel travelling at an alarming rate) that should have given me more than a “Where the f*** am I“ moment. They just bundled me out the back, stuck a field dressing on me dented heed and carried on with the fire-mission, now that’s professionalism for you!
After returning from Canada the unit was about to embark on Northern Ireland Training (The Troubles), shortly before I was hospitalized with some strange agonizing ‘Pyrexia of unknown origin‘ that took some 10 months to recover from, Turns out it was a form of Lyme Disease known as Rocky Mountain Fever, from a tick bite received in The Rockies where, a few of us went for R&R (piss-up/wake). Try as they might, the health professionals never figured it out only much later did an A&E consultant diagnose it. To cap it all off, just as I was on the mend, I had an emergency appendectomy, the surgeon giving me the binary choice of “You have two options and one of them is death!” The NHS used to be fun!
During that absence a friend of mine was killed in Northern Ireland and my roommate was ‘invalided out’ after a roadside bomb launched their Land Rover over a wall near Londonderry (Derry). Both, the best soldiers and people, J seemingly ‘collected’ medals for a pastime, but only ones he’d earned. He certainly earned the last one!
“Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep“
British Soldier Slain by IRA Left Poignant Verse
After recovery, they stuck me in a ‘holding regiment’ and because I fell ill so quickly, never got a chance to say goodbye to the lads. For a while they thought I was dead, I later heard! No excuse to ransack my vinyl collection though!
I digress, so after 5 years I ‘bought my way out’. Not a matter of months out and I’m watching Gulf War I highlights on the news with my dad, sadly departed, and who should grace the screen.
Depending on your perspective, I’m either:
Lucky.
Very Fortunate.
That said, it is quite frustrating training years for a job you never get to do.
END EX
Via a few less than glamorous jobs, I landed on more ‘messing around in the woods‘ as a potential career avenue. I racked up enough qualifications and volunteer practical conservation experience to make the determination, this may be it. Whatever it, might be?
Off to the new university in Sunderland, then a 7 year-ish stretch of conservation management/ranger(ing) followed. Leading practical conservation work parties was always my favourite, everything from prison parolees to the unemployed of East Durham. Informing murderers they are doing a great job…planting that tree upside down! That kind of thing!
All the above is great and all but does not pay all the bills! In 1997 I built a web site for the woodland park I was working at; this combined with a nerdy hobby of building my own computers at the time led to the next experience. I managed to convince the head of IT (Teesside) to put me on a Masters course in Computing with no IT foundation degree. That was a hard two years and found some of the more advanced programming near impenetrable. I don’t mind saying I sought some help to get through it. I will always be grateful for that help.
Just after graduating, the dot.com bubble popped and lots of opportunities vaporized. After a few years, I ended up in Reading near London spending 3 hours a day commuting only 24 miles. I bought a bike and did it in half the time but, everyday was a near Ben Hur-esq Roman chariot race on those leafy shire lanes.
Meanwhile, after two years of applying for temporary residence in Canada they finally relented. IN THE MEANTIME, I somehow got married by mistake. This only lasted a few more years and led to the surrealist courts system where, you are not the party at fault, yet are somehow punished as such!? I took the hit and walked away with a small lump sum, all the while determined to do something positive with it. I looked around for land with my modest pouch of coin and found my little 14 acre slice of very reasonably priced Eden. For that I will be forever grateful. x
It’s hardly been plain sailing since then which, was only compounded by the Lockdowns that, vaporized one business overnight and was the catalyst for the wheels to fall off another joint venture a while later! I’ve come to view big gov/society now as a bit of a slow moving train wreck. I’ve held this position for a few decades but the above put the train on Nitrous oxide!
It just made me crave a way simpler life, way F*&^*& quicker!
After 10 plus years of clearing (more messing around in the woods), building and ferrying everything we might need over a river. We may be close to having something we can practically use on a day to day footing; without every day feeling like monk like toil!
This is an attempt to rescue some of those memories for posterity; babble about some new ones and keep me mam informed about her wayward son.
If you would like to come along for the ride (there’s a little more) you are more than welcome. Many thanks for your valuable time. x
More…
It was a rough old winter/spring where we where. In terms of both weather and work…as a result of the weather!
I made a decision in the Spring to head to the cabin. I’m looking to live here all Summer/Fall (Autumn) in an attempt to try and finish the cabin part of the project and maybe build a camping berth or some such for next year. It would be nice to be able to share this place via the blog too so please subscribe, that would be an indicator we are not boring everyone senseless.
Hopefully, I can capture some of the fun (misadventures) for posterity.
Keep on gannin’ x
PS Many thanks to the Tudhoe & Spennymoor Historical Society, they do an often overlooked yet invaluable job preserving our cultural heritage.
PPS Well done to Spennymoor Town for getting to the final of the FA Trophy recently (24-25 season) and probably emptying the town that weekend! I/we watch you from afar and me dad from above!
What I enjoy doing when the mud is frozen.
If any of you ‘newly minted Bitcoiners’ fancy buying a peasant a delicious warming cup of tea; better still a pint of mead, that would be awesome! ;-)
