tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43574997759648219632024-03-13T09:33:23.054+00:00A Life Inside & Outside of Politics - Mark ColeMark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.comBlogger583125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-7111304308440939992018-03-24T11:48:00.000+00:002018-03-24T11:48:19.633+00:00Eglwyswrw and the 1946 University Boat Race<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; margin-bottom: 6px;">
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #1d2129;">Today will see
the running of the 164th University Boat Race.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">But there’s a little bit of
Eglwyswrw hidden away in the Boat Race archives.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the 92nd edition in 1946
sitting in Seat 5 for the Light Blues of Cambridge was Geoffrey Cunningham
Thomas of </span><st1:place style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;" u2:st="on"><st1:placename u2:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Jesus</st1:placename></st1:place></st1:placename> <st1:placename u2:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">College</st1:placename></st1:placename></st1:place><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">.</span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">Geoffrey was born in Hirwaun,
the son of Dr Benjamin Thomas and the grandson of the Surgeon Dr Ieuan George
Thomas. His great-grandfather was Rev Benjamin Thomas, or ‘Myfyr Emlyn’ to go
by his Bardic name who was born in the foothills of the Preselis in 1836 and
who moved to Pantygarn in the village of Eglwyswrw in 1849 (his youngest
sister Anna married Stephen Lewis of the neighbouring farm Carnhuan - they were
my gg-grandparents).</span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">Young Geoffrey weighed in at
13st and 9lb - the heaviest of any of the participants in either boat on that
day, 30th March 1946. It was reported that many in the Light Blues had taken
unwell in the days leading up to the race which hampered preparations but the
race went on.</span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, times new roman, serif;"><iframe allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/bBlJ3RXx45Y" width="560"></iframe></span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">Sadly for Geoffrey and for
the family honour, 1946 would be the only race in the first 6 post-war efforts
that would see the Light Blues of Cambridge place 2nd!</span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">Geoffrey eventually emigrated
and married in </span><st1:country-region style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;" u2:st="on"><st1:place u2:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Rhodesia</st1:place></st1:country-region></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"> in
1970. He passed away on 9th September 1999 in Waterfall, </span><st1:state style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;" u2:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">KwaZulu-Natal</st1:state></st1:state><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"> in </span><st1:country-region style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;" u2:st="on"><st1:place u2:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">South Africa</st1:place></st1:country-region></st1:place></st1:country-region><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"> aged
73. To my knowledge he had no children and as an only child himself, his story
will have been lost.</span><br />
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: times, "times new roman", serif;">But he isn’t forgotten and
neither is the fact that on this University Boat Race day, thanks to my Mam’s
3rd cousin, there is a little corner of west Wales that will forever support
the ‘Light Blues’.</span></div>
Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-45296845947602117172018-01-24T21:22:00.000+00:002018-01-24T21:22:49.833+00:00The Never Ending Story...5 Years of Family History ResearchIt's been 2 years <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/a-family-history-odyssey-dedicated-to.html">since I wrote in this blog</a> about my burgeoning family history research that had been kick-started by the support of Mick Cole in Barry.<br />
<br />
I honestly don't know where the time goes but it is now exactly 5 years since I finally decided to begin researching my family and it has been quite a ride.<br />
<br />
As I stated at the time <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/who-am-i.html">here in my blog</a>, it all began with my paternal grandfather William Benjamin Cole's birth certificate from April 1899. With the help of Mick and so many other family relations, that tentative start has grown into a monster.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>A Family Odyssey</b><br />
5 years on, my paternal tree now includes over 8,700 names. It includes non-blood family from around our home stomping ground of Martletwy, Landshipping and Loveston where neighbouring family married into neighbouring family - as well as telling a personal family story, it tells a fascinating tale of a tight-knit community prior to the age of change in the face of greater transportation.<br />
<br />
My maternal family tree from up and around Eglwyswrw has in itself grown to over 8,100 in number with the same mix of blood relations going back generations, as well as the wider story of neighbouring families from around Brynberian, back to the village and into the hinterland around the Preseli Hills in all its fascinating complexity.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip59ME-CKqdsT3R_GqZlBN-2rshGCoWc7dAH8CxJftznkqCR4dnZczQKsr5Qt2eEEOOggOqmOUrlojPPaTLeopaHhlLs2uiraUaO5Dpy9LDAMcwmNRwrMPCBuyJPBrEz7bV13n3b8ct3Ph/s1600/AW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="375" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip59ME-CKqdsT3R_GqZlBN-2rshGCoWc7dAH8CxJftznkqCR4dnZczQKsr5Qt2eEEOOggOqmOUrlojPPaTLeopaHhlLs2uiraUaO5Dpy9LDAMcwmNRwrMPCBuyJPBrEz7bV13n3b8ct3Ph/s320/AW.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Annie Willoughby</b></td></tr>
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So from one single birth certificate, a combined tree of over 16,800 names has resulted after 5 years of research.<br />
<br />
As that time has moved on, the number of new relations to contact and new discoveries to find has gradually slowed down as most bases have been covered. So it's amazing when a big breakthrough is made out of the blue.<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">So it was only last week when I came across new photos of two of the greatest enigmas in my research. On my paternal side, thanks to my Dad's 2nd cousin Carole Thomas in Pembroke, a previously unseen photo album had come to light which included the image of my grandmother Maude Cole's first cousin Annie Willoughby. At the same time, my Mam's 2nd cousin Nia Roberts in Swansea had come up trumps with a first ever image of my great-grandfather Stephen Thomas Lewis' brother Griffith Alban Lewis.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YCTzojpnXnfVwIO5OEf3oT84xM7cQxP3QkgYKuUApbXrP7H2BwO8vi5WS-TkC43fp9ZQx4VjOrYKGXplPSFNRxgdND9nEuev4kMdjiw0zxxteuldWDSHVGREGZjah2DsCZ_zz7QU1dOx/s1600/GL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1085" data-original-width="1070" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YCTzojpnXnfVwIO5OEf3oT84xM7cQxP3QkgYKuUApbXrP7H2BwO8vi5WS-TkC43fp9ZQx4VjOrYKGXplPSFNRxgdND9nEuev4kMdjiw0zxxteuldWDSHVGREGZjah2DsCZ_zz7QU1dOx/s320/GL.jpg" width="315" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Griffith Alban Lewis</b></td></tr>
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Both Annie and Griffith led what can only be said were colourful lives. It is said that every family has skeletons in the cupboard and these two, on either side of my family, certainly had their fill of skeletons. So to find within a matter of days of each other, an image of both, having long given up on the idea that such images existed, was quite something.<br />
<br />
It goes to show that the research never does end - even 5 years and nearly 17,000 names later.<br />
<u><br /></u>
<u>Never give in. Keep talking to family relatives. Keep asking for photos. Keep researching. It's incredible to think what information lies out there, undiscovered.</u><br />
<br />
Where it ends, who knows, but the last 5 years have been greatly fulfilling in terms of self-exploration.<br />
<br />
So for cousin Mick, who was with me for so many of those formative trips into our family past, it goes on.<br />
<br />
<br />Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-54474672417267330242017-04-04T21:19:00.000+01:002017-04-04T21:27:49.214+01:00Time to Say Goodbye - Notes on my Political 'Retirement'The song was famously sung by Andrea Bocelli who happened to be a favourite of my late father Lance and it's probably as apt a heading to a blog post as any for what in many ways is a bittersweet juncture in my life.<br />
<u><b><br /></b></u>
<u><b>Because after much reflection and deliberation, I decided some time ago that I would not be submitting my name for re-election to Ceredigion County Council and Cardigan Town Council in 2017.</b></u><br />
<u><b><br /></b></u>
Back in 2014, I wrote <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/helping-others-10-years-as-ceredigion.html">this blog post</a> on the 10th anniversary of my election to local government which explored those tentative early steps and my progress as a Councillor in Cardigan.<br />
<br />
As mentioned, there have been many highlights, be it at a town or ward level. But as I stated then, it's those personal stories of support that never make the papers that will live with me.<br />
<ul>
<li>That 6 or so year involvement with a local resident and her housing traumas which finally materialised in her finding a new home just outside of town. She's now studying as a mature student and I'm very proud of her for moving forwards with her life despite the many knocks on the way.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Then there was the call from a desolate local resident who had suffered years of domestic abuse who found out, on his finally leaving the family home, that he had left in his wake, countless unpaid bills. This resulted in a Council Tax demand and the threat of a visit from bailiffs within the week to recoup the amount owed in furniture and fittings. I spent 4 hours of a Sunday evening listening to the horror story unfold in her front room. The fact that she technically lived the wrong side of the road from my ward did not matter. She had come to me and I had to help her. I vividly recall going to sleep that night feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders as I had never felt before. Here was a truly horrific case, the like of which I had never faced to that day or since. The next morning I called a senior officer in the Council's finance department in Aberystwyth and asked for the bailiffs to be called off and to agree a regular pay-back plan with her. With letters of support from the local Women's Aid, local chapels and the local food bank, this was thankfully achieved.</li>
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Finally, my final major piece of casework was thankfully resolved positively only last week when a year long support for two local residents finally saw them move into the home they had first been promised by Tai Ceredigion some 18 months earlier.</li>
</ul>
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These are only the tip of the ice-berg and I can look back at countless cases of support offered or guidance given in the hope that my presence and involvement has brought about a positive end result or at the very least, given moral encouragement to the one in distress in the knowledge that they are not alone.<br />
<br /></div>
<b>A Change is Gonna Come</b><br />
Over the past year however, I have felt an increasing need to press 'pause' on this life of service.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4HDxK_F0MGDer7gyJvBULcRW5GKVx_je1AP3T71Gk17C6KEC2DUF6uD7CuJ5AFqUxRxuoak5UaSaLVgr42XgXq4w-1hDbZmWn3luvEWXIEF6ul_zGTKXRz_xmBrAj6ExQtoB-YzwdIJt/s1600/Goodbye1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB4HDxK_F0MGDer7gyJvBULcRW5GKVx_je1AP3T71Gk17C6KEC2DUF6uD7CuJ5AFqUxRxuoak5UaSaLVgr42XgXq4w-1hDbZmWn3luvEWXIEF6ul_zGTKXRz_xmBrAj6ExQtoB-YzwdIJt/s320/Goodbye1.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>My seat in the Council Chamber with name tag</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="text-align: center;">Elected aged 21, I have effectively spent my entire adult life in the service of others. Whilst I have enjoyed the challenge and the opportunity to make a positive difference in people's lives in that time, I have now reached the point where I need to take a step back, reflect and gather breath. That doesn't mean that I'm suddenly going to disappear off the face of the planet! I'm looking forward to continuing in an active role in the community life of our town but with the time to concentrate on a few specific interests of mine.</span><br />
<br />
For those worried that this means a lessening of my commitment to my Liberal family and the liberal cause, have no fear. To quote Tony Benn on his retirement from the House of Commons, he famously stated that:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"I now want more time to devote to politics and more freedom to do so".</i></blockquote>
I can understand fully his feelings when he wrote that comment. I want to devote more time to politics and to support those who wish to contribute in their own way to civic life. I specifically would like to see myself in a supporting role, supporting others who wish to do what I have done. I would like to use my experience to bring forward and support new and exciting candidates who wish to support the liberal cause by being community champions in their own right.<br />
<br />
In this light, I'm delighted that in my wake, I'll be supporting excellent new candidates in Cardigan this spring. Elaine Evans is standing to replace me in Rhyd-Y-Fuwch ward and having started the 1,000 strong online petition to save Cardigan Library in its old location and with her passion for the town of her birth, she will be a great voice for her community. Likewise, Sian Maehrlein in Mwldan ward is another well known Cardigan character who wants to support her home community and will be a strong and confident voice for residents in the Council Chamber. Steve Greenhalgh meanwhile will continue as he did in 2012 by speaking up for residents in Teifi Ward with that cheeky smile and commitment to social justice and fairness that is the embodiment of his character. They will be joined by Yve O'Neill and Marilyn Farmer on the liberal campaign trail - two more women with firm opinions and a resolve to help those in need in our town.<br />
<br />
<b>Put it in Perspective</b><br />
So the liberal fight in Cardigan goes on and indeed, with 5 out of 6 of our candidates being female, we are also striking a positive blow for better representation in local government.<br />
<br />
All of this has sought to confirm my view as to the future.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioMxy6diqqjBs8FXv3FBMpT0HM4hnjmBxpzZmUdDpHZQ-fZqawnI9O7jCqDdosYB7B0GHxwR3KteLqcNRenEvYlaDqeWvDnmUNyLAy8jXQ7Wn_m6BBgCCUq7zEv1bOiSm2ZF99Q2I6ukmM/s1600/Goodbye.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioMxy6diqqjBs8FXv3FBMpT0HM4hnjmBxpzZmUdDpHZQ-fZqawnI9O7jCqDdosYB7B0GHxwR3KteLqcNRenEvYlaDqeWvDnmUNyLAy8jXQ7Wn_m6BBgCCUq7zEv1bOiSm2ZF99Q2I6ukmM/s320/Goodbye.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>That name tag in reverse...Goodbye</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
If nothing else, I've always prided myself on having a good sense of perspective and that, along with a keen self-awareness, has led me to realise that if I feel that I need a break to re-charge my batteries as is the case, then it is certainly best to stand back and to allow these new and keen candidates to come forward to take my place.<br />
<br />
I may have won 6 elections out of 6 in my local government political career to date, but that's no reason to keep on standing just for the sake of it. I'd rather stand down now whilst I'm still ahead with people asking <i>'why now?' </i>than hang on as so many do to the refrains of <i>'him again?'</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
It was Calvin Coolidge, the 30th President of the United States who said in his memoirs of the reasoning for his surprise decision not to run for re-election in 1928 that:<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 13.5pt;">"</span><span lang="EN-US" style="background: white; color: #222222; font-size: 13.5pt;">The Presidential
office takes a heavy toll of those who occupy it and those who are dear to
them. While we should not refuse to spend and be spent in the service of our
country, it is hazardous to attempt what we feel is beyond our strength to accomplish".</span></i></blockquote>
Ceredigion County Council is not the United States of America and its HQ at Penmorfa, Aberaeron is certainly not the White House! But when I read these words whilst reading up on the American Presidents during my last trip to America back in the autumn, the words struck home.<br />
<br />
The opportunity to re-charge the batteries may give me renewed energy in due course to stand for elected office once more in the future or the freedom from the responsibilities that come with the role may become a newly found friend that I may not wish to relinquish. I do not know. The future is just that. It is an untold story that has yet to be written.<br />
<br />
But for now, in the present, I feel that having spent virtually my entire adult life in the service of others, like Coolidge, I sense that now is the time to reflect and accept that the tank is empty and that I feel as if I have given everything that I have to give in elected office.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>So Long, Farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, Good Night</b><br />
So it's time to say adieu and I know I'm going to miss it. Terribly.<br />
<br />
The ability to help others is something that no money can buy. The change that can be positively made from local government, even in times of tighter budgets, can never be underestimated. For those who wish to do good, being elected as a Councillor gives a fantastic opportunity to do so and to put back into the community.<br />
<br />
But then, help and support can take many forms and I will seek to continue to do my bit for my community, just from a different angle. Dare I say it, but from a different <i>'perspective'.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
So this isn't the end. It's merely the completion of one chapter and the beginning of another.<br />
<br />
The last 13 years have been a roller-coaster ride and if I had my time, would I ride it again? You bloody bet I would!Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-10448145170235746992017-03-13T23:08:00.002+00:002017-03-13T23:23:43.308+00:00RIP the UK of GB & NI (1922-2019)<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #1d2129;">So it has been a historic day. The 13th March 2017. The
day everything changed. Forever.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129;">The day when the House of Lords
caved in and allowed Theresa May to trigger Article 50 within days and also the
day when Nicola Sturgeon called for a 2nd Scottish independence referendum
within 24 months.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #1d2129;">Of course, the two are
inextricably linked. Had England and Wales not voted for Brexit in as much
number as they did to overturn the Remain majority in Scotland and Northern
Ireland, Sturgeon wouldn't have been handed the 'game-changer' that gave her
the m<span class="textexposedshow">oral right to call a 2nd referendum so soon
after the first. I have to say it, she's right to do so.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #1d2129;">So Theresa May and those who wanted 'their country back'
will get it. That country however won't be '<st1:country-region w:st="on">Great
Britain</st1:country-region>', it will be 'Little England with <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Wales</st1:place></st1:country-region> on the
side'.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #1d2129;">Good luck to <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Scotland</st1:place></st1:country-region> as it moves inexorably
towards independence. As for <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Northern
Ireland</st1:place></st1:country-region>? I think it's time that they
seriously look to unite with our fellow Celtic cousins south of the border - as
difficult as that will understandably be for so many in the communities of the
north.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
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</div>
<div style="background: white; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIKRRjMx9zs8KQ66K8ugLYuOK6bdDtG1sYiAijoVkIy5kB6ItvADURl12F28h24CGqhSE_04PkTFw1e5bIOaPLj6MqD7NE35QeQIrQT6_pxOY35lI_9q7lIatbSriL0undKB0c6R6YAlc/s1600/Brexit+Britain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglIKRRjMx9zs8KQ66K8ugLYuOK6bdDtG1sYiAijoVkIy5kB6ItvADURl12F28h24CGqhSE_04PkTFw1e5bIOaPLj6MqD7NE35QeQIrQT6_pxOY35lI_9q7lIatbSriL0undKB0c6R6YAlc/s320/Brexit+Britain.jpg" width="320" /></a>So yes, 13th March
2017 is a historic day.</div>
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I don't say this with any pleasure. As a Federalist, I have believed in the strength of the Union of nations that has made up the United Kingdom. But the loss of our place at the heart of the European Union, for those of us who are internationalist to our bones, is a monumental blow. For those who live in Northern Ireland and Scotland who will see their country ripped out of the EU against the collective will of their own nations, it is a critical moment from which there is no turning back.</div>
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<b>A Historian's Perspective</b></div>
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As I say, it is with great sorrow that I accept that these coming truths to be self-evident. I do so as a historian, with an eye to the past as a lesson for the future.</div>
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Many who voted for Brexit will not have realised the consequences of their actions. They will not have voted Brexit because they wanted to see the break-up of the Union. <u>But their decision will result directly in that final destruction of the Union as we know it today and have known it for the past century.</u> To not accept this fact is to be wholly condescending to the individual cultural and national identities that make up the Union. It is also to be deluded.</div>
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The decision made on the 23rd June 2016 changed everything. But dependant on the Government's precise response to that narrow 'Leave' victory, the Union could've been salvaged. But by pursuing a 'Harsh Brexit' that will see us leave the single market, a Tory Government, that bastion of Unionist sentiment, has set in train a domino-effect that has gathered momentum to destroy all that it cherishes. It if wasn't so sad, it would be amusing.</div>
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Efforts to put a brake on the process by at least giving the people who voted for the departure to have the final say on the destination once the full picture is known, failed today in Parliament.</div>
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So Theresa May will now invoke Article 50 and Scotland will seek to wriggle out of the ensuing mess that will follow.</div>
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So yes, 13th March 2017 is a historic day. It's the day that marks the beginning of the end of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.</div>
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May the last one to leave the UK, please turn out the lights.</div>
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RIP the UK (1922-2019)</div>
Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-64887934450910572972017-02-06T18:15:00.000+00:002017-02-06T18:15:50.636+00:00An International Family - 4 Years of Family History ResearchOver four years of family history research has re-enforced to me how we are all one global, single community.<br />
<br />
It's incredible when you scratch under the surface just a small amount, to find so many long-lost, far-flung connections around the world all with roots back to the same place.<br />
<br />
<b>A Pembrokeshire Base</b><br />
I've been very lucky in my research in that I am based in Pembrokeshire where I can trace both my immediate paternal and maternal lines all the way back to the late 1700s at the very least.<br />
<br />
Mine is a very 'Pembrokeshire' family on all sides with all 4 grandparents, all 8 great-grandparents and 14 of 16 great-great-grandparents buried in the county. The only missing pair are Thomas and Jane Davies who are buried in Treorchy Cemetery - I'm fortunate that their daughter Elizabeth decided to move back from the rush to coal in the valleys back to her homeland where she married David Cole. Had she not, I wouldn't be here today telling their story!<br />
<br />
Going back another generation and again, all of those 32 ggg-grandparents that I have found are buried in Pembrokeshire apart from 1 ggg-grandfather who is buried in Glyncorrwg high up above Maesteg.<br />
<br />
A handful of lines can be taken back centuries earlier on the back of old research carried out over many years by others and which is well documented. The Pictons of Pembrokeshire is a classic example. The current crop of researchers in many ways are standing upon the shoulders of the giants who went before and have given us so much information to work with. Our job is to add to that store of information for future generations.<br />
<br />
<b>An International Family</b><br />
So I am very fortunate in having very firm foundations from which to explore more widely those lines off my direct branch that moved away from the county of their birth to start a new life abroad,<br />
<br />
There is a significant family presence in Australia from various lines going back generations and links also to South Africa. There is still the much vaunted but unsubstantiated links to Patagonia in the middle of the 19th century. That is one 'lost-line' of my gg-grandfather's siblings from Brynberian that I would dearly like to discover.<br />
<br />
Or did these 'black sheep' of the family not go to Patagonia after all but to North America?<br />
<br />
I don't know, but if they did, they were in a long line of family lines that crossed the pond looking for a better life.<br />
<br />
<b>America</b><br />
Many emigrated to find better employment in the burgeoning American coalmines after the coal industry in Pembrokeshire began to grind to a halt at the same time as the boom in the south Wales valleys.<br />
<br />
But whether it was the coal of other issues that brought movement, move they did and over 4 years I have found a wealth of lines living throughout that great nation. With my global membership of Ancestry.co.uk I've been able to track down a lot information on these various lines and having vaguely made an effort at keeping all of this information in order, decided to put together a map to visualise that movement. It was greatly revealing.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQG__Mhfk_y9etscJ1PFm_rQqpl98xDL4Ez8Rv9RyXRD5D2NdS4euM3KY3dpfL3co26IqOzCxnpLCF6triTjMr-jTlILwhId-eonIeljkiKPX1ukd1hlml-ewXP8ozN6_kj2c7upwFlA9L/s1600/JMC+Family+Burials+in+America.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQG__Mhfk_y9etscJ1PFm_rQqpl98xDL4Ez8Rv9RyXRD5D2NdS4euM3KY3dpfL3co26IqOzCxnpLCF6triTjMr-jTlILwhId-eonIeljkiKPX1ukd1hlml-ewXP8ozN6_kj2c7upwFlA9L/s320/JMC+Family+Burials+in+America.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Descendants in America</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This map shows that from my research to date, I am confident that I have tracked down blood relatives who lived and died in at least 23 of the 50 states.<br />
<br />
The biggest concentration focus on Kansas in the heart of America where at least 3 distinctly separate lines in my heritage converged. The same could be said for New York and Pennsylvania states. Though of all of my lines, it is the very well researched Picton line of my gggg-grandmother Elizabeth mentioned earlier in this post which has spread across great swathes of that enormous land mass.<br />
<br />
But of course it's easy for it to have done so because we know so much about this particular family. What if as much was known about all the other lines in my family story? If only! No doubt that map would almost be full!<br />
<br />
But then that's the frustration and in equal measure, great joy of family research - it never ends! As one door closes, so many more open. It is a never ending story.<br />
<br />
So I shall continue to uncover that story. There is so much more to be told.Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-50420808544008824612017-01-19T18:40:00.000+00:002017-01-19T19:11:19.827+00:00Thank You, Mr PresidentI don't believe that I remember the Presidency of George H.W. Bush.<br />
<br />
I was 10 and a bit when he lost the 1992 election and handed over the Presidency the following January to Bill Clinton.<br />
<br />
<b>Before the World Became Important</b><br />
It's odd but 1992 was a year when I seemed to become aware of a world outside of my own happy bubble at Hungerford Farm, Loveston in south Pembrokeshire. I became aware of football (and 25 years later am still saddled with being an Aston Villa fan). I became aware of F1 and delighted in roaring home Nigel Mansell to his only World Championship win that year (though I do have vague memories of the dismay as his efforts at the tail end of the previous season petered out).<br />
<br />
I'd also become aware of politics. The 1992 General Election for this then 9 year old and the battle between Major and Kinnock loomed large that spring. But the downfall of Margaret Thatcher less than 18 months earlier in 1990? No memory. The first Iraq war of 1991? No recollection. Even by 1992, the world of international politics had yet to infiltrate my mind.<br />
<br />
<b>Bill Clinton</b><br />
But things were to change. I began to realise that I had political instincts and a natural interest in the world at large, as well as local affairs, during my time in secondary school. As it happens, that 7 year period between 1993-2000 ran almost in direct parallel with the Presidency of William Jefferson Clinton.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uSrdNdyGiLfdCFX_zYAZfumHbAU59CPcr1c6GTnLTl8o5U5_UmpIf2SINbPKKORNAyk6ldUh96vooI2OE4Ae-6hbgL4tpIVKguzjeX1lorcQOQqYGQCPcGEVtfkSIiAm2l2MXra4XwfM/s1600/Clinton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7uSrdNdyGiLfdCFX_zYAZfumHbAU59CPcr1c6GTnLTl8o5U5_UmpIf2SINbPKKORNAyk6ldUh96vooI2OE4Ae-6hbgL4tpIVKguzjeX1lorcQOQqYGQCPcGEVtfkSIiAm2l2MXra4XwfM/s1600/Clinton.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Cheeky Bill</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This of course was also the era of 'Blair' in his prime. Both got on well as they sought to forge a '3rd way' in politics. My socially liberal conscience was becoming ever clearer to me but it was also evident that I was no New, Old or any kind of Labourite. No, I was firmly a liberal and by my days studying A-Levels between 1998-2000, I was aware that I was specifically, a Liberal Democrat.<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">In America though, it was a simple case of Democrat Vs Republican and my increasingly burgeoning interest in national and international politics and the beating liberal heart that was growing within me meant that as far as American politics was concerned, I would comfortably ally myself to those old Donkeys as opposed to those great Elephants.</span><br />
<br />
The Monica Lewinsky scandal of course rocked Clinton's Presidency in the latter years and yet by the end, it didn't harm his personality. He had overseen a benign economic decade in American history and his down to earth persona seemed to chime with that relaxed 90s vibe.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Al Gore, no...George W. Bush!</b><br />
I was in my opening term in Aberystwyth University and specifically, in the Pantycelyn computer room when the November 2000 Presidential election night results were coming through.<br />
<br />
Of course, it was all dependent on Florida. One of the networks called it for Al Gore. Delight! The Presidency was his and Clinton's liberally sympathetic, centrist agenda would continue! But no, of course those hanging chards had other ideas and the Supreme Court would eventually hand Florida to George Bush Jnr despite his having won less of the popular vote than Al Gore.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioUpmj3c8InmHt41D3yrRgss8cnVDZGlu4sf2utlkpqVzwvJrP7Mbn-esClzloKePCU_quMfA2-SRcaOjQ7E9IECZ0xlbVr4OlWjRmEs-XOqgwrmYquYbq57UT_8a2UjxpPm2O6j4W11LZ/s1600/Bush+Jnr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioUpmj3c8InmHt41D3yrRgss8cnVDZGlu4sf2utlkpqVzwvJrP7Mbn-esClzloKePCU_quMfA2-SRcaOjQ7E9IECZ0xlbVr4OlWjRmEs-XOqgwrmYquYbq57UT_8a2UjxpPm2O6j4W11LZ/s1600/Bush+Jnr.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Oh dear Dubya</b></td></tr>
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Despair wasn't the word but of course worse would follow. Not so much the invasion of Afghanistan following 9/11 but the invasion of Iraq in 2003, without UN international support, rocked me to the core. I was delighted that my own party leader Charles Kennedy was so clear in his opposition at that time.<br />
<br />
So when the 2004 election came around, I was desperate that a new JFK would knock Bush Jnr out of the White House after just one term, just like his father. I recall being at home in the Preseli Hills that November evening with my one and to date, only bout of tonsillitis. I was there by the Rayburn all night knowing that whichever of Bush or Kerry won two of Florida, Ohio and Pennsylvania, would win the election.<br />
<br />
Kerry took Pennsylvania but Bush took Ohio and once again, that there Florida for 4 more years with Dick Cheney ever ominously there in his shadows as Vice-President.<br />
<br />
It was a depressing 8 years for a liberal internationalist like myself to live through but hindsight being what it is, was it really all that? Probably yes. But time may just tell.<br />
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<b>Barack Obama</b><br />
In those early primaries, I planted my own support in the Obama camp from the off. I wasn't convinced by Hillary at the time though that would change, but in that young Senator for Illinois, there was a vision and a passion and enthusiasm that was infectious.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujg9FP40r6_Dx-5MQYPAXxibBvPgOYA8z-m2LfHoGQw3GiuOFwJXEWOH7Ri0toju3Nz7kFHHR18G8HeZzapM-S2Vl0bVGHPuRC5iVqKOxjLTxS-zf8yF1h7uzlRyaNMaO9rk80jKzldbV/s1600/Obama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgujg9FP40r6_Dx-5MQYPAXxibBvPgOYA8z-m2LfHoGQw3GiuOFwJXEWOH7Ri0toju3Nz7kFHHR18G8HeZzapM-S2Vl0bVGHPuRC5iVqKOxjLTxS-zf8yF1h7uzlRyaNMaO9rk80jKzldbV/s1600/Obama.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Happy Days!</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The sheer joy I felt at his election in the fall of 2008 wasn't just because of what he could bring to the plate but also as a direct result of the release from those 8 years under Dubya. Allied with Obama's victory was the Democratic sweep of Congress which meant that in those first two years of office, he made the sweeping changes to America's healthcare system with the Affordable Care Act that was so desperately needed.<br />
<br />
But of course the backlash and the emergence of the Tea Party that came from 'Obamacare' would cast a shadow over the remaining 8 years of his Presidency. Much has been said about the lack of progress that Obama made with his domestic agenda. But following the mid-term elections of 2010, it is possible to make the case that he faced the most aggressive Congress ever set against an incumbent President.<br />
<br />
What chance did he have against such an insurmountable system of checks-and-balances that is fundamental to the American constitution?<br />
<br />
But he left so much more than a disappointing domestic legacy. He brought America back in from the cold and into the international arena with a measured, sensible tone that had been so lacking under the Presidency of the previous incumbent. The gravitas and sense of intellectualism that Obama brought to the podium when he spoke was a breath of fresh air. You could see when he spoke and when he hesitated momentarily to ponder a reply to a question that he was thinking deeply about what he was about to say. Not a sound-bite, but a carefully analysed and considered response to yet another complex and intricate problem facing his administration, his country and our world.<br />
<br />
His Nobel Peace Prize was premature. It was clearly given in the belief that he meant well with what he said. Of that there can be no doubt. But as much as we desire positive change, such are the ways of diplomacy, it never was so easy in reality and on issues like conflict in the Middle East, we are possibly falling further back from the idea of a sustainable two state solution than we were in 2008. But if that is the case, the blame can not be placed at Obama's door - but at that of Benjamin Netanyahu.<br />
<br />
<b>Thank You Mr President</b><br />
His Presidency has not been all that he or we liberals had hoped. Those days of wild optimism in late 2008 were probably akin to those of early May 1997 back here in the UK. Maybe we should've known better. Life is never that straightforward as there are always the conflicting interests of conservative forces seeking to hold back the change that is always needed.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf61qNfrheivwTwqHifxmDcAjAGarS0gGf1sTbXEr5adp_uMglm-XyKKof_0aX6iyTAZGyH2ljnsAEfeMyShp6aJgPmrdfg9up49dNTHJKo4m1WtVBNGhRgZ0a9jlzTxu2_kbnzzDaMHus/s1600/Obama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf61qNfrheivwTwqHifxmDcAjAGarS0gGf1sTbXEr5adp_uMglm-XyKKof_0aX6iyTAZGyH2ljnsAEfeMyShp6aJgPmrdfg9up49dNTHJKo4m1WtVBNGhRgZ0a9jlzTxu2_kbnzzDaMHus/s320/Obama.jpg" width="320" /></a>Progressivism Vs Conservatism will always be the big battle in contemporary politics.<br />
<br />
But despite these trials and tribulations, Barack Hussein Obama and his worthy Vice President Joe Biden and fabulous First Lady Michelle, showed the way to those like myself that optimism, intellect and a liberal, progressive agenda can be pursued with humour, compassion and kindness.<br />
<br />
Whatever the future may bring, I thank Obama and his administration over the past 8 years for proving that good can be done in the world...if only you will it.<br />
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<b>God Bless the 44th President of these United States.</b>Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-14354956994439031812016-12-30T19:00:00.000+00:002016-12-30T19:00:04.034+00:00Freedom from and a big Fuckety Bye to 2016It has been a horrible year. Truly horrible.<br />
<br />
Much has been said about the political reverberations of the actions from the previous 12 months and much also about the incredible loss of well known celebrity and professional life during this tumultuous period.<br />
<br />
I will touch upon it all only very briefly in a rare blog post.<br />
<br />
<b>The Postitive?!</b><br />
Now it hasn't all been relentlessly awful. But whilst the highlights have been overshadowed considerably by a cesspit of despair, I have to mention that wonderful summer in France.<br />
<br />
As I wrote <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2016/06/a-welsh-pilgrimage-to-bordeaux-58-years.html">in this blog at the time</a>, Wales's odyssey to its first footballing finals in 58 years was something that this sports mad idiot lapped up for all its worth. Those trips to Bordeaux and to Paris will live in the memory for as long as my memory allows them too. But even above those wonderful days lurked the shadow of that vote in June. The Paris match for Wales' last 16 match against Northern Ireland fell on Saturday 25th June just two days after the Brexit vote. To say I was at a low ebb is the understatement of all-time. Even travelling back to the continent that morning I couldn't get out of my head the fact that the passport that allowed me to do so, may not in a few years time.<br />
<br />
Truth be told, the match itself was incredibly nervy and not one that I could enjoy. I didn't want to consider the impact of being knocked-out against unfancied Northern Ireland having previously hit the heights of beating Slovakia and Russia. That on top of the events of 48 hours earlier would've been catastrophic for my already rock-bottom morale!!<br />
<br />
But thankfully Wales came good and the power of football, of sport and of a command band of humanity coming together for a cause against the odds (because following Welsh football with a degree of hope in the possibility of success has always been against the odds!) was an incredibly cathartic one.<br />
<br />
We will always have those halcyon days of France last summer in our hearts and for that at least, I say thank you to 2016.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>The Politics</b><br />
But that's basically it. 2016 in all other ways has been a slurry pit from hell.<br />
<br />
It is scarcely believable that since last January 1st, we have as a country voted to leave the European Union. As a fervent internationalist, I will not budge from my belief that the decision taken on June 23rd is going to cause serious harm to some of the most vulnerable in our society for years to come.<br />
<br />
On the crest of the wave of this populist outrage, America voted (not in raw numbers but through its Electoral College) for Donald Trump over Hillary Clinton to take over the White House from Barack Obama in 3 weeks time. My head is in a spin with it all.<br />
<br />
It's as if reason doesn't count for anything anymore. Playing to people's fears seems much more productive than playing to their hopes. Spin 'em a line, reel 'em in, and let 'em drown when you've got what you want. They say politics has a bad name now - so what's happening with that extra £350m a week that will be going to the NHS? When will Trump build and then force Mexico to pay for that wall?!<br />
<br />
There's going to be a lot of anger when the politics of grievance and division that has visited us this past year doesn't pay out as promised. What then??<br />
<br />
I'd like to think that informed rational debate may come back into vogue again. But I'm not holding my breath.<br />
<br />
<b>The People</b><br />
Then there's been the scarcely believable loss of the lives of people who, through their own realm of expertise, have made an impact on the world. From the world of entertainment, science and public service/activism, it has been a year of bewildering loss.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/magazine-38418802">This BBC news website list alone</a> names over 250 such lives that have been lost in the space of 365 days.<br />
<br />
The one that shocked me the greatest was that of Victoria Wood. One of my comic idols, she has been a happy companion along my road in life since I was a teenager. To lose someone like Victoria who brought so much joy and happiness to the lives of so many, at age just 62, is heartbreaking.<br />
<br />
The loss has been relentless over this apparently festive period but for me, it's almost apt that we end a year that started with the shock loss of that musical genius David Bowie with the loss of another colossus in George Michael.<br />
<br />
Now I can't hand on heart say that I was a huge fan of either. Don't get me wrong, I respected them both and their back catalogue will stand the test of time. But despite my vague indifference to their talent, they have in my mind, book-ended in their departure, a year that has lost so much talent and potential, be it in the personal, or in the politics of where we are today and where we may be, or could've been, tomorrow.<br />
<br />
It has been striking since George's death to read of the many stories of his quiet philanthropy. It is so sad that, even if it were his will, that we did not know just how kind a man he was until it was too late to thank him for his generosity.<br />
<br />
In the same light, it is only in the coming darkness of the tortuous Brexit negotiations and the Presidency of Donald J. Trump that some may come to appreciate after it is too late, just how good things actually were.<br />
<br />
<b>Freedom from 2016</b><br />
George Michael and these 250+ listed above are now free from such concerns. They are now in another place. It's probably not a bad place to be. Indeed it was George in that early incarnation as Wham! that sang what for me was always my favourite effort to come from his impressive songbook.<br />
<br />
So here is the full 7m long version of that Wham! classic 'Freedom'.<br />
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There is still one more day to survive in 2016 but on the dangerous presumption that I can get through these next 24 hours alive and in one piece, I will be seeing in the New Year in the Gogerddan Arms near Aberporth with a Band and Buffet.<br />
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We don't know what 2017 will bring but for one night we can at least rejoice in seeing the back of 2016. When the clock strikes midnight I will raise a glass to the freedom that we will have gained from the shackles of this slurry pit from hell.<br />
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<b>Fuckety Bye 2016.</b><br />
<br />Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-57917067735571050192016-11-28T21:06:00.000+00:002016-11-28T21:06:43.315+00:00A Farming PhotographerAnother sizeable gap in my blogging can at least be brought to a close for good reason.<br />
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Earlier this month, my father Lance Cole would've been 80 years old. I had for a good year and more planned to respect his memory, by writing an article about one of his life-long passions - photography.<br />
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I wrote about this passion <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2011/08/memories-of-my-father.html">in a blog post</a> over 5 years ago back in 2011. A year later <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/preserving-dads-photographic.html">I blogged about my plan to preserve that legacy</a> with modern media. It took me another year before his 900 or so slides were finally 'digitised' but I got there in the end <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/a-new-years-resolution-preserving-dads.html">as I reported back at the end of 2014.</a><br />
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Well, as is self-evident, my blog has remained woefully quiet of late and that is most certainly something I intend to rectify sooner rather than later.<br />
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<b>Pembrokeshire Life Magazine</b><br />
But in the meantime, I have greatly enjoyed taking the opportunity when chance has arisen and time allowed, to write articles for Pembrokeshire Life magazine.<br />
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They have consisted of snippets from almost 4 years of family history research which I found absorbing and stimulating. In 4 years, I have had 4 articles published in this popular monthly publication - one in each year since 2013 as it happens.<br />
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In 2013 I wrote an article about Dad's paternal Cole line from Pisgah and the lives of my gg-grandfather Johnny Cole and his brother Benny Cole who were stalwarts in Pisgah Chapel near Carew. It was published in the October edition of that year.<br />
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In 2014, I wrote an article in memory of my extraordinary maternal grandmother on the 50th anniversary of her death. It was published in the April edition <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/an-educated-lady-from-eglwyswrw-story.html">which I blogged about at the time</a>.<br />
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In 2015 I wrote about the 1844 Garden Pit Disaster at Landshipping which claimed the life of my ggg-grandfather James Davies whilst completely coincidentally, above ground the Clerk that day was another ggg-grandfather James Cole. At Whistun, I hosted a big family reunion of descendants related down from this James Cole including family from America, at the 'Doghouse' down at Lawrenny Quay. The article on the story and the reunion was published in the November edition.<br />
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I am extremely grateful to Pembrokeshire Life editor Keith Johnson for publishing these articles to date.<br />
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<b>A Farming Photographer</b><br />
But at the back of my mind for some time was my father's upcoming 80th birthday and my desire to bring to the wider attention of the local community, the story of this farmers love of photography and many of those photos that he took in the 1960s and 1970s.<br />
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But I couldn't tell the whole story, only that which I personally recalled in the 1980s and 1990s. To go back to the beginning of his odyssey in film, I needed the recollections of Patrick Jones, a distant family cousin who more importantly, shared that passion with my father and who worked with him on many a wedding and project in those formative years.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsCXUT1-fTkahVfrLfvIfldcyw29cp-83z74DPCOjMbsbo7r0__zTNkWJxksT1h4AG-vY8F3dkTY1F7b2A_VcUMrzUHj5NepgrmT2NMjhhiR4_LnciieUmmZjC_2gFj6IPp-kvo52sX4q8/s1600/A+Farming+Photographer+%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsCXUT1-fTkahVfrLfvIfldcyw29cp-83z74DPCOjMbsbo7r0__zTNkWJxksT1h4AG-vY8F3dkTY1F7b2A_VcUMrzUHj5NepgrmT2NMjhhiR4_LnciieUmmZjC_2gFj6IPp-kvo52sX4q8/s200/A+Farming+Photographer+%25285%2529.jpg" width="134" /></a>It took some years for us to get it together, but I was delighted when it was published in its entirety in this month's edition including one of Dad's photos being used on the back page. It has been great since to have heard from so many from the area who have taken great enjoyment from being reminded of those earlier days from the photos that he took back at that time.<br />
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I have re-published the 5 pages of that article in this blog post.<br />
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In this, what would've been his 80th year, William Lance Cole's legacy lives on.Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-2067561445123256502016-06-13T20:47:00.000+01:002016-06-13T21:17:56.701+01:00A Welsh Pilgrimage to Bordeaux - 58 years in the Making!My blogging continues to be rather slack of late but a comment on an unforgettable, once-in-a-lifetime experience can not be missed.<br />
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When I started blogging properly back in September 2010, I took <a href="https://www.blogger.com/opportunity%20http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2010/09/how-paul-bodin-broke-my-heart-in-1993.html">this opportunity to lambast the woes of the Welsh footballing team</a> down through the years. I returned to the same theme on a <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2015/10/a-welsh-footballing-odysseyto-france.html">wonderfully happier note only last October</a> when Wales qualified for their first major footballing tournament for 58 years.</div>
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<b>Bordeaux</b></div>
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Well this weekend, I was one of around 25,000 fans that made the pilgrimage across the water to see that history being re-written as Wales not only made its debut in the European Championships, but went and won against Slovakia with style, passion and plenty of guts and determination to boot.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Road Trip!</b></td></tr>
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A gang of my old University mates had decided when the tournament draw was made that we'd have to make every effort to get tickets for the opening match. Not only was it a favourable opening tie against Slovakia, but it was also in equally fashionable Bordeaux but critically, was on a Saturday which meant we could work around our work commitments to make it so.</div>
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We had been fortunate to draw 2 tickets out of the FAW draw allocation and purchased 4 others from those selling tickets online when their team had not been drawn to play in that particular fixture. So a hire car arrangement saw 6 of us drive down on the 900 mile, 17 hour drive through France to reach our literal goal on Friday night/Saturday morning. It included an unplanned, SatNav detour through the heart of Paris at 3.30am - at least the roads weren't too busy at the time!</div>
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Arriving at 9.15am, we had a McDonalds breakfast whilst keeping a close eye on a narrow defeat for Wales in the rugby against the All Blacks and after checking-in early to our hotel, made our way down on the 4 or so mile walk to the town centre. It became quickly apparent that the reds of Wales were clearly going to be outnumbering the blue and whites of the Slovakian supporters and as we made our way towards the centre, enthusiastic local French drivers kept beeping their horns in encouragement and support - it's a good thing they won in the opening match of the tournament the night before otherwise they may not have been so welcoming!!</div>
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On arriving in the town centre, we went to the huge 'Fanzone' for some early drinks, to sample the building atmosphere and to watch the first half of Switzerland Vs Albania. It was very quickly apparent that there was a great sense of camaraderie between the Welsh and Slovakian supporters who were mingling freely with each other throughout the Fanzone and indeed the entire town, with no hint of concern for any potential flare-ups. For me, it was simply a privilege to be able to mix with our European cousins as Wales dined at the top table of European football in a way they had not done since that World Cup in Sweden in 1958 when Pele famously broke our hearts in the Quarter-Final.</div>
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So we took it all in and I took the opportunity to contact and catch-up with a number of old friends who were also making the trip - so many it was too easy to lose track of who was in Bordeaux this weekend!</div>
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<b>The Tram!</b></div>
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We set off after 3.30pm to get to the stadium on time in a crammed tram - despite the French's best efforts to scupper our plans by hosting a series of public transport strikes over the weekend, extra trams were set aside to deal with the volume of transporting over 40,000 fans to the stadium some 5 miles north of the city centre.</div>
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Singing was the order of the day and en-route, I managed to easily coax a tram full of Welsh fans into song by starting up both <i>'Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau' </i>and <i>'Calon Lan'</i>. Whilst they were fewer in number, we also applauded and welcomed the intervention of our Slovakian friends as they also gave us a song! The locals on the tram meanwhile, seemed to be willing to put up with this heady, joyous outpouring of mild mayhem with an amusing look of bewilderment!</div>
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Because these are moments you can't script. You can't make them up. They were just the the reactions of Welsh football fans delirious at the prospect of watching something that had been promised so many times before but that had cruelly been snatched away from our grasp each time. The match against Romania in 1993 and against Russia in 2003 obviously stand out in my mind but for those from an older generation, the match against Yugoslavia in 1976 and against Scotland in both 1977 and 1985 as well as the failed folly against Iceland in the run-up to the 1982 World Cup and again against Yugoslavia in 1983 added to the list of glorious failure that had become frustratingly synonymous with Welsh football. </div>
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<b>The Match</b></div>
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We arrived in good time at the stadium to take in the carnival like atmosphere and to prepare ourselves for what was to come.</div>
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From our fantastic vantage point in the corner directly opposite the main bulk of Welsh fans, we saw a great opening display before the teams arrived and the opening strains of 'Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau' could be heard around the stadium.<br />
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It is difficult to put into writing the enormity of the feelings that came over me when a stadium so full of Welsh fans sang our national anthem in such passionate, full voice. This remember, was the first time that it had EVER been played in a major footballing tournament - in 1958, the team led by John Charles, Ivor Allcurch et al were introduced each time by God Save the Queen. It was spine-tingling and many shed tears at that moment. I confess that none of the tears were mine - I was too focused on singing our anthem out as loudly and as proudly as I could, Which I did!</div>
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On kick-off, any nerves that we had amidst the excitement came to the fore when a 3rd minute goal-line clearance saved us from an early disaster. But it didn't take long before anxiety turned to jubilation as a Gareth Bale free-kick in the 10th minute put our Cymru into an incredible early lead. ABSOLUTE PANDEMONIUM!!!! I was hugging all those around me - whether I knew who they were or not mattered not one jot!!</div>
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It settled our nerves and dared us to dream of the icing on the cake - an opening match victory?!?! Surely we're not that lucky - we're Welsh!! But confidence grew and an assured first half saw us retain that lead at half-time despite having had a stone-wall penalty appeal turned down during that period.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>In the Stadium!</b></td></tr>
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The match turned though on the hour when a shrewd Slovakian substitution and some uncharacteristically poor Welsh defending led to the equalizer. Despair. Here we go again. So close, but not quite good enough. Suddenly, it was the Slovakians in the ascendancy and for a good 15 minutes, holding onto the draw and an opening game point seemed like a more than reasonable result for us now. But then Chris Coleman played his aces and brought on Ledley and Robson-Kanu and the new energy that they brought to the pitch saw another swing in the pendulum. It was now at this time with about 15 minutes left that the fans sought to lift the boys on the pitch with an impromptu rendition of <i>'Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau'</i>. Yes, I joined in, but not as vociferously as I had shortly before kick-off - my nerves were in shreds and I had to rely on the lungs of my compatriots to sound out that war cry to give those 11 on the pitch the strength and encouragement to carry on!</div>
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It must have worked because within 5 minutes, Ledley's precision ball to Ramsey found its way to Robson-Kanu who beautifully scuffed the ball into the back of the Slovakian net! 2-1!! PURE ECSTASY ONCE MORE!! Cue more hugging of those same nearby strangers!!</div>
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Yes, the dream was back on and despite Slovakia's late striking of the post, we weren't to be denied this time. Because this Welsh team have got a belief and confidence in themselves as an unit, having qualified in the first place, that was missing from those squads past. The resolve and sheer bloody determination that got them to France to begin with, now saw them through to 94 minutes with that newly won back lead still intact.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>What a result!</b></td></tr>
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<b>FULL TIME - VICTORY!!</b></div>
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It took 58 years for Wales to get back to where they left off in 1958 and having earned that chance, the boys weren't going to just show up for the party. The commitment shown by the whole team, backed up by a fanatical, ecstatic support, saw the Dragons in red ROAR their way across the line for a win that will go down in Welsh sporting folklore.</div>
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The 3 points now puts us firmly planted with one foot in the last 16 of the competition. But then, there lies complacency. Another point is needed against England or Russia to make sure but that is for this coming week.</div>
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The hear and now saw us march back to town (by foot, the entire way!) with thousands of likewise jubilant Welsh fans, revelling in what we had just witnessed. Did that really happen? Was this for real? Oh yes it was!!</div>
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We could only stay in the Fanzone for a few hours to watch Russia equalize in injury time against England before we had to make our way back to the hotel ready for an early start back home. So whilst our compatriots drank into the night, we had a relatively alcoholically relaxed time of it as time was pressing against our 24 hour flying visit. What was clear though as the weekend developed and into the following Sunday was that the Welsh fans had been wonderful representatives of their nation. Full of beer? Without doubt. Full of song and good humour? Without question.</div>
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Bordeaux turned red this weekend in what was a Welsh celebration of footballing redemption. No-one was going to spoil the party. The result just made it an even more special atmosphere than it already was!</div>
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<b>Homeward Bound</b></div>
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We set off after a light breakfast at 9.30am on the Sunday, barely 24 hours after we had arrived. We were back in Folkestone via Rouen at 6.30pm and we were back in Wales before midnight.</div>
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It was a whirlwind, rollercoaster 72 hours in my life that will remain indelibly marked in my memory. Whatever happens now, those ghosts of Welsh footballing pasts have been well and truly dispelled with. It shouldn't be another 58 years before we qualify for a major footballing tournament but hell, even if it is, there will be 25,000 Welsh fans who will be able to say, to quote Max Boyce, that <i>'I was there' </i>when Wales did actually strut their stuff with the best of the best and showed that we were in good company.</div>
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The best night in Welsh footballing history? Quite probably so. A night and weekend to remember? Without a shadow of a doubt!</div>
Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-66312932081998105942016-02-28T22:04:00.001+00:002016-02-28T22:04:36.018+00:00A Pembrokeshire Mongrel - Mwngrel Sir Benfro (2)As I mentioned <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2016/02/a-pembrokeshire-mongrel-mwngrel-sir.html">in my last blog post</a>, I was pleasantly surprised to receive from the Carmarthen Journal at the beginning of the year, an offer to contribute to their expanding Welsh language content with a column of my own.<br />
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Having published my initial column in January, I'm glad to report that the Journal have seen fit to keep this new arrangement going by publishing column number two!<br />
<br />
My initial column came in at about 650 words in length but I've managed to bring this second effort in at about 550 words which will be my target for future columns.<br />
<br />
<b>A Pembrokeshire Mongrel</b><br />
Again, whilst the lay-out is slightly altered to the first one of a month ago, it remains eye-catching and I'm pleased with how it has been set out.<br />
<br />
So, having again re-published it here in the original Cymraeg, I also do so in English below for those who do not have the good fortune of speaking the language of heaven...<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">A Pembrokeshire Mongrel (2)<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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It’s a pleasure to have the opportunity to write a regular
column for the Journal with my views and opinions from the vantage point of
being a Councillor and former Mayor of Cardigan but also from being a
‘Pembrokeshire Mongrel’ – born and raised in my paternal homeland ‘below the
Lansker’ around Martletwy but with my maternal heritage ‘above the Landsker’ at
Eglwyswrw in the Bro Preseli. All in the language of the ‘wes wes’ (west Walian
Welsh dialect) of course!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>A Chance Lost for
Cardigan Library<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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The news that Ceredigion Council has decided to downsize
Cardigan Library has frustrated many. The frustration lies in the fact that the
Council had been offered an opportunity by the owners of Canolfan Teifi where
the library has been located for the past 20 years, to remain there rent free
for a minimum of 5 years. Efforts to call-in the Cabinet decision for greater
scrutiny and to fully consider the offer made, failed however and the authority
are now set to move the library from its current location, despite a great
amount of anxiety expressed by users about the effect that it will have on the
service.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Goodbye to the Rain!<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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I mentioned in my first column last month about the persistent
rain that had well and truly put Eglwyswrw on the map. Since I wrote that
column, our little village has gone global – as far as <st1:country-region w:st="on">Australia</st1:country-region> and <st1:place w:st="on">New Zealand</st1:place>! I even found myself
giving a live interview on Dutch Radio about our predicament and in all
fairness, their pronunciation of Eglwyswrw was to be commended! But all things
come to an end and finally, the weather eased - after 85 days of rain, we had a
dry day in the village. We should’ve celebrated really but in fact, there was
almost a new sense of frustration abound because we ended up just 4 days short
of breaking the near 100 year old British record of 89 days of constant
rainfall. They say any publicity is good publicity and it seems that the
residents of Eglwyswrw well and truly took to that mantra by the end!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>Thank You to Robin
Lewis<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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During my year as Mayor of Cardigan in 2009/10 and
particularly when I chaired Ceredigion County Council in 2012/13, I would often
find myself in the presence of Dyfed’s Lord Lieutenant Robin Lewis. Not only was
he and Mrs Lewis good company, but we also had much in common. His business
contacts took him to Whitland, where I was schooled for 13 years and they live
in Cresswell Quay near Carew which is only a matter of miles from where I was
born and grew up.</div>
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So I was really pleased, some years later, to receive an
invitation for Alyson and myself, to his recent retirement reception in <st1:place w:st="on">Carmarthen</st1:place>. It was a good opportunity to catch-up with
fellow members of the ‘chain gang’ but more importantly, it gave me the chance
to personally thank Robin for his commitment and duty to his role over the past
decade and more. But more than that, the fact that he did so with such good
humour! Best wishes to Sara Edwards who is known to many of us through her
career in journalism, as she steps into Robin’s very sizeable shoes.</div>
Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-91245263238009871562016-02-13T13:33:00.001+00:002016-02-24T19:06:50.834+00:00A Pembrokeshire Mongrel - Mwngrel Sir Benfro (1)At the beginning of the year, I had an unexpected but pleasant communication from the Carmarthen Journal, looking for new contributors to help expand their Welsh language content.<br />
<br />
I've always had a great enjoyment in writing. Indeed, if I could have my time again I may have done a post-graduate degree in Journalism instead of plumping for the safe choice of history which I eventually choose. But due to my political activity over the past decade, the opportunities for me to write freely have been limited.<br />
<br />
One of the few opportunities that I have had in that time was when I wrote an article on the historic coming together of the DUP and Sinn Fein in Northern Ireland in May 2007 having made the trip to be in the grounds of Stormont that very day. Having been a pupil of history with a great love of all things Irish, it was a great moment in my life to see this unlikeliest of partnerships come together in person and to subsequently have an article on that experience printed in the Carmarthen Journal.<br />
<br />
<b>A Pembrokeshire Mongrel</b><br />
So when that very same newspaper approached me looking for a regular column on topics of my own choosing, how could I say no? Doing so in the Welsh language would also give me the chance to brush up on my written Welsh.<br />
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So last month, my first monthly column was published in the Journal. I must admit that I was very pleased with the format and presentation of that first column as put together by the Journal staff and I hope that same format will be retained for future columns.<br />
<br />
As a Pembrokeshire boy, born and bred in my paternal homeland in the English-language dominated south but with firm roots in my maternal Welsh-language dominated north of the county, I offered the column name 'Mwngrel Sir Benfro' which translates as 'A Pembrokeshire Mongrel'. It may sound odd but I've always taken great pride in my split Pembrokeshire heritage and how better to embrace the history of both than my taking on that very title?!<br />
<br />
I have re-published it here but for those who do not have the good fortune of speaking the language of heaven, I have translated it into English below...<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: 16.0pt;">A Pembrokeshire Mongrel<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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It’s a pleasure to have the opportunity to write a regular
column for the Journal. I will be doing so with my views and opinions from the
vantage point of being a Councillor and former Mayor of Cardigan but also from
being a ‘Pembrokeshire Mongrel’ – born and raised in my paternal homeland
‘below the Lansker’ around Martletwy but with my maternal heritage ‘above the
Landsker’ at Eglwyswrw in the Bro Preseli. All in the language of the ‘wes wes’
(west Walian Welsh dialect) of course!</div>
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<b>An Eisteddfod for
Cardigan…in Pembrokeshire?!<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Ceredigion will be hosting the 2010 Eisteddfod and
expressions of interest from different communities have been requested. The
strict criteria for land that is suitable for the size of such an event limits
the possibilities but there’s one location that ticks all the boxes. Cardigan
looks set to put forward land at Llantood as an option though some eyebrows
have already been raised at the fact that the site sits a mile the other side
of the Ceredigion border…in Pembrokeshire! But with the re-opening only last
year of Cardigan Castle, the birthplace of the Eisteddfod in 1176, there is a
strong sense locally that it would only be right to see its return for the
first time since 1976. <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Cardigan</st1:placename>
<st1:placetype w:st="on">Town</st1:placetype></st1:place> Council has already
written to local community councils throughout south Ceredigion, north
Pembrokeshire and north-western Carmarthenshire seeking support for a bid and
hopefully by the end of March deadline, Cardigan and district will be
green-to-go. As for the site being a mile the other side of the Ceredigion
boundary? Well that makes it a mile closer to Eglwyswrw so I support it
wholeheartedly!</div>
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<b>Eglwyswrw – or E-gwlyb-wrw?!<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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It’s been a wet winter. No getting around that. But in
Eglwyswrw, where I’m the manager of the family’s Dyfed Shire Horse Farm, it has
been particularly so. Now, Uncle Howard who has lived there at Carnhuan for all
of his 73 years, is a force of nature…when it comes to talking about the
weather! But it was still the shock of my life last weekend when Uncle Howard’s
face stared back at me from the Western Mail, being interviewed about the
village’s 90 year record of over 80 consecutive days of rain since late
October! Before we knew it, he was being quoted online with the Daily Mirror
and BBC Wales News were on the ‘phone expressing their interest! It’s not
exactly the best reason for the village to make the news. Having said that, it
was amusing to see many English people try and pronounce the word Eglwyswrw!</div>
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<b>West…was nearly Best!<o:p></o:p></b></div>
Many racing fans from west <st1:place w:st="on">Wales</st1:place> would’ve been shouting for
Bob Ford from Rebecca Curtis’ stables in Dinas in the recent Welsh Grand
National at Chepstow. Not only was I one of them, but I was there cheering him
on from the stands…in the rain! Why? Because one of his owners John Rees from
Llanboidy happens to be my father-in-law! Now, our Bob’s form is consistent in
his inconsistency! If he isn’t winning, he’s likely to be pulled up but he
likes heavy ground and boy, it was heavy that Saturday! Against high calibre
opponents, he gave it his all and was in the leading pack throughout before
slipping back and falling, for the first time in his career, a handful out. He
was fine thankfully but despite the fall, he can hold his head up high. As for
his form? Well, it’s be a pleasant change, for the only time hopefully, to see
a ‘F’ instead of another ‘P’ amongst those ‘1’s’!Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-85883992838537164612016-01-24T20:09:00.000+00:002016-01-24T20:09:01.742+00:00A Family History Odyssey - Dedicated to the Memory of 'Cousin' Mick Cole<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Time passes by quickly. Too quickly more often than not. But pass by it does all the same.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Exactly 3 years ago to this day on the 24th January 2013, I wrote <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/who-am-i.html">this blog post</a> about finally making the leap into exploring my family history after years of prevarication.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Since then, those tentative first few steps into my own genealogy have turned into a project so vast and never-ending that it has become a significant and very happy part of my life. Shamefully, I have not committed as much of that research and learning down in writing in this blog as I should have, save for the odd irregular article over the past 36 months. I hope to put that write and blog more about this research as time continues moving on.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">But 3 years on, it's important for me to remember and commemorate the man who started it all off in the first place.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">'Cousin Mick'</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">As that initial blog post of 2013 stated, it all begun earlier via a photograph of Martletwy Church that my father had taken in Easter 1962 and which I posted <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/martletwy-church-easter-1962.html">here in my blog</a> on its 50th anniversary in April 2012.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Read the comments to that post from April 2012 and you will see that within 2 days, it had garnered a response from a Mick Cole in Barry. Who was this? It was all new to me but I replied days later.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">On the 15th April 2012, I wrote...</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #484848; font-size: 13.5px; line-height: 18.9px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"I'm hoping to catch-up with a distant cousin Max Cole in Carew who I gather has a family tree of Benjamin's side of the family and am keen to follow that up with a catch-up with cousins on Maud's side who now live in the Loveston/Begelly area".</i></span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">Of course, like all good intentions, it never happened but then my reply went </span><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">unanswered for over 9 months and no doubt I would have forgotten about this fleeting connection and been distracted by something else to excuse finally making the leap into the research.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Then, as our conversation thread in the comments re-commenced on 19th January 2013, it turned out that Mick had met my Dad's sister, my Aunty June, down in Martletwy previously. Suddenly, I was alert and intrigued! He not only spoke a good game about Cole family links back to my homeland, but he'd clearly made an effort to make those connections a reality.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;">So when Mick asked how my own research had been progressing since our previous communication 9 months earlier, my reply was...</span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #484848; font-size: 13.5px; line-height: 18.9px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>"The research hasn't really got going yet such has been the pressure of work commitments but your contact has spurred me on again to look into it".</i></span></span></blockquote>
This time, there was no prevaricating. I started asking my mother questions on Dad's family and thanks to Mick's contact, I was spurred into signing up with ancestry.co.uk within 48 hours, on the 21st January 2013. My first blog post was to follow 3 days later after initial research had been completed.<br />
<br />
<b>Researching with Mick</b><br />
So it's absolutely bang on the money to state that it was Mick's contact that finally pushed me into researching my family links. The comments in the thread mentioned above give a reminder of that and the timescale says so.<br />
<br />
But Mick didn't just start the research off - he became an integral part of it.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ubDDsdKJxKowuSgh8J8-BvYKhM3x7K_GJ9sIESsosCOSosm2M23449jw6wIeSema8XNQTCc7q8I69oLTAjyIGzy6E7HZXoqgWlMeOlIyTb2qdBksXstgyvUjwx726r2JQHhQYdtOUPG8/s1600/Mick2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ubDDsdKJxKowuSgh8J8-BvYKhM3x7K_GJ9sIESsosCOSosm2M23449jw6wIeSema8XNQTCc7q8I69oLTAjyIGzy6E7HZXoqgWlMeOlIyTb2qdBksXstgyvUjwx726r2JQHhQYdtOUPG8/s320/Mick2.jpg" width="320" /></a>He had been doing his own research for some time and was keen on more visits back west to Pembrokeshire where he had spent some of his youth around Manorbier. <span style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;">So he did and over the next two and a half years, we would regularly meet up in west Wales to chew over the latest piece of research - to lock our heads together to see if we could make a breakthrough and to visit the locations of our shared heritage.</span><br />
<br />
We first met within a few months in the spring of 2013 on the occasion of Wales Vs England in the 6 Nations Championship decider. We met at the Carew Inn for lunch with Mick's lovely wife Nikki and we moved on to Tenby where we'd all booked in for the night. We watched in absolute delight in the Crown Inn on Lower Frog St, as Wales thrashed the English 30-3 to not only end their Grand Slam hopes, but to steal the championship from under their noses! The Guinness flowed, the banter did likewise and a life-long friendship was well and truly formed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC2YdpPSgx3dnYFlbB_6jvyIFqGgy7sD3qDP_M1y0OagaIcez63543EB9YQqGgxXkaczf16qoh2mx34DmdyIOI03Ccpghk4WiFMEwcQybcn-sN9qwVfhyL9jTu5T994phV55F7McH_HPzK/s1600/Mick1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC2YdpPSgx3dnYFlbB_6jvyIFqGgy7sD3qDP_M1y0OagaIcez63543EB9YQqGgxXkaczf16qoh2mx34DmdyIOI03Ccpghk4WiFMEwcQybcn-sN9qwVfhyL9jTu5T994phV55F7McH_HPzK/s320/Mick1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
When we weren't together, we'd send e-mails back-and-forth as we tried to make more progress. Mick was brilliant. He would come up with crackpot theories about what may have happened with various 'lost' family members. I'd learned with the research over time having made my own mistakes along the way, to treat everything with caution. Half the time, Mick's theories turned out to be as crackpot as they sounded. But the other half of the time, he struck Gold. Certificates would be purchased to prove what he believed to be be correct time and time again but his best find was to make a contact with a very distant Cole relation to a family now living in America. His proof was good but I just didn't see it stacking up. I was very cautious and kept batting away his firm opinion on the matter. That was until I found a travel document back to Wales in the 1920s for one of this American family's descendants and it saw her return to the very address in Pembroke Dock where her maternal aunt had lived for decades. Unbelievable - Mick was spot on all along! We since made contact with a living descendant, Ted Wilson in Kentucky who was delighted at our research and connection. We are now firm Facebook friends.<br />
<br />
Over the following visits, we'd trudge our way through cemeteries and graveyards, enjoy the odd curry and sup a good pint or three as we spoke about not just old family, but our own families, sport and politics. He'd often rib me about being an Aston Villa fan - couldn't blame him!<br />
<br />
Most of our visits centred around Pembroke Dock. Having barely set foot in the place since I was a child, I came to greatly look forward to our get-together's there. At the heart of it were our regular visits to the <i>'First and Last'</i> and the <i>'Welshman's Arms'</i>. Beer, live music, banter with the locals and in the latter, Henry the huge Irish wolfhound wondering 'round the bar - what more could you want?! Perfik!<br />
<br />
<b>A Lawrenny Family Reunion</b><br />
Throughout all of our discussions, we'd always had the idea of organising a family reunion of our family back in Pembrokeshire. As the research developed, it was clear that it would take time to organise something of note.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5MjVNNQQ4nEWBt9LVxsEtG5PUKamXP0xHHTx7F6yXDsr95HirHy4J2-Az36wCp60iWyWJdpBH5D1IXeCZBz3QiL8DLAV_t35S1LtqkP49ofvelMgxttp7ohZibX9_oSuYpByVqdGv-1BQ/s1600/Pembrokeshire+Life+Article+%2528Family+Reunion%2529+%25281%2529+%2528Nov+2015%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5MjVNNQQ4nEWBt9LVxsEtG5PUKamXP0xHHTx7F6yXDsr95HirHy4J2-Az36wCp60iWyWJdpBH5D1IXeCZBz3QiL8DLAV_t35S1LtqkP49ofvelMgxttp7ohZibX9_oSuYpByVqdGv-1BQ/s200/Pembrokeshire+Life+Article+%2528Family+Reunion%2529+%25281%2529+%2528Nov+2015%2529.jpg" width="138" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhKJFz-zNMpLAWfs7pVRy1k_nUT8dpoGo4BBuqgfCJUfdvHeBs_0_nkaKwEQwCRZFgUohyphenhyphenl08jbCH2zT1fV5pZp6fzWE_LJzI9XG3Xj-ypMDom1Kf5kHFaajxAoZGMStrTMo6WDLmUAjV/s1600/Pembrokeshire+Life+Article+%2528Family+Reunion%2529+%25282%2529+%2528Nov+2015%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhKJFz-zNMpLAWfs7pVRy1k_nUT8dpoGo4BBuqgfCJUfdvHeBs_0_nkaKwEQwCRZFgUohyphenhyphenl08jbCH2zT1fV5pZp6fzWE_LJzI9XG3Xj-ypMDom1Kf5kHFaajxAoZGMStrTMo6WDLmUAjV/s200/Pembrokeshire+Life+Article+%2528Family+Reunion%2529+%25282%2529+%2528Nov+2015%2529.jpg" width="133" /></a> By Xmas 2014 we had set Whitsun Bank Holiday weekend aside for the venture and booked the marquee at the Lawrenny Arms. Sadly in the interim, Aunty June passed away peacefully aged 79 in the March.<br />
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But in her memory and for all of those who had gone before, we continued with the plans and we had a great time as over 30 family members travelled west to meet for the first time in decades if not for the first time ever. New photos came to light and new, unknown corners of the family story became evident as a result. This was particularly so for our Mick.<br />
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The two page article republished here is that which I wrote for Pembrokeshire Life on the back of that successful get-together.<br />
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<b>Goodbye Cousin Mick</b><br />
It came as a great shock when I received an e-mail from Mick on Armistice Day last saying that he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and had only been given 6-12 months to live.<br />
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He remained upbeat and was even talking of 'one final trip' back to Pembroke Dock in the New Year. Sadly, it was not to be. Mick passed away peacefully at home in Barry just 7 days later aged 65. I've lost close and dear family members during the past year but losing Mick so suddenly was numbing. The article which I had written for Pembrokeshire Life had just been published in the November edition. I had told Mick of this by e-mail but I never got to send it to him to read in person.<br />
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We'd not even known each other 3 years but when it came to the family research, we were as thick as thieves. We were a double act, bouncing ideas off of each other and helping the other with their research. With hardly any warning, he was gone. All of those plans of further joint escapes, were not to be.<br />
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His funeral mass in Barry was a lovely service and Nikki and his boys Sam and Jack did him proud. He always spoke so highly of them all when we were together and it has been great to have got to know them all over the past 3 years as well. Sam and Jack spoke movingly and amusingly of their father at the service. I give them immense credit for doing so because when I lost my father suddenly aged 20, there was no thought that I could say something in his service. But not only did Sam and Jack speak of Mick, they also touchingly mentioned his and my friendship over recent years in their eulogy. It was truly humbling to know through them, that their father took as much enjoyment out of our joint ventures as I had done.<br />
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To 'Cousin Mick', I miss you greatly. The family history research that began so tentatively after your initial contact has now swollen to make a family tree containing over 11,000 names.<br />
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But..you didn't just make it happen, <b>you made it fun</b>.<br />
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It won't be the same without you Mick boy but I will continue as we would have done and everything I do now, I do so in your memory.<br />
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Thank you Mick.Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-69623937197267189132015-10-17T13:59:00.001+01:002015-10-17T13:59:45.751+01:00A Welsh Footballing Odyssey...to France Euro '16! (Paul Bodin...all is forgiven!)One of my earliest blog posts spoke of the long-running heartache of being a Welsh football fan - the pain of which could be encapsulated in the <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2010/09/how-paul-bodin-broke-my-heart-in-1993.html">Paul Bodin penalty miss in the crucial Wales Vs Romania qualifier for USA '94</a>.<div>
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Reading it back now, it does come across with a rather bitter undertone - one of a fan looking for a scrap, just a scrap of light at the end of an interminably long tunnel.</div>
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<b>France Euro '16 Qualification!</b></div>
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Well, now we have it!</div>
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It was with some incredulity but utter delight that I watched Wales qualify for our first footballing finals since the days of John Charles and Ivor Allchurch back in Sweden '58! Come next summer in France, Wales will line-up with the continent's best for the first time in 58 years since that summer of '58!</div>
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There was hope at the start of the campaign. But then of course, there always is. It's the quick extinction of that hope early on in qualifying campaign after qualifying campaign that has made the whole art of watching our national team so frustrating and wearisome over the years.</div>
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This time round it was almost extinguished in its infancy in the most embarrassing way possible. Only a late winner from Gareth Bale overturned a 1-0 reverse to a 2-1 win at minnows Andorra. But it was a win. Dim hope remains.</div>
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Then an early double - a stoic 0-0 home draw against top seeds Bosnia and days later, a gritty 2-1 win against Cyprus despite being down to 10 men for much of the match. I was away in Amsterdam at this time and recall taking time out from my first wedding anniversary get-away to get as many updates on the Cyprus match as possible. The 0-0 against Bosnia had given more hope of sniff at a top 3 finish but that would be extinguished without a win against the Cypriots. The dogged resistance shown by the team meant that as early starts go, hope remained. Always that hope.</div>
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That doggedness saw us through what should've been our toughest encounter. Another stoic performance in Brussels saw a 0-0 draw against Belgium. Watching it in Aberystwyth, the rear-guard action and subsequent clean sheet was one of the best I had seen from a team in red. Suddenly, 8 points out of 12 and unbeaten having played each of the top two seeds gave us something to really hold onto. Couldn't shake off that hope.</div>
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<b>Israel & Belgium</b></div>
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Then a winter break before a tough match away to group leaders Israel who were 3 out of 3. Another point would be good here. Listening to Radio Wales from our farm in Eglwyswrw, I was bouncing around the cafe as Wales secured a massive 3-0 win. Suddenly, mild optimism was turned into genuine hope. That bloody hope again.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Gareth Bale celebrating a qualification <br />game-changer against Belgium!</b></td></tr>
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But next up was Belgium at home in June. Again, a draw would be fantastic here and keep the unbeaten start to the campaign going. Watching from home in Cardigan, I erupted as Gareth Bale pounced on Belgium defensive uncertainty and scored what proved to be the only goal of the game. UN-BEL-IEVABLE JEFF!</div>
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Now with 4 wins and 2 draws from 6, this thing was now most certainly ON - but whisper it very, very quietly. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. We are Welsh after all.</div>
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<b>One Foot in France</b></div>
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Summer was taken up with talk of what could now be. Wins against Cyrpus and Israel in September would guarantee a top two finish and the exotic highlands of final tournament play in 2016. But a defeat to either let alone both would bring utter panic back to proceedings!</div>
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Watching the match in Nicosia from my Aneddfa sofa in Cardigan, I was hoping that we could take 4 points from the two matches to put a foot in France. With the same coming to a close at 0-0, I was resigned to what was a good, albeit slightly disappointing, point. Then, again...GARETH BALE! When his bullet header struck the back of the net with minutes to play, my roars woke up everyone upstairs!</div>
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What a result! A win at home to Israel would seal the deal and in preparation, I bought a very last minute ticket for the final match against Andorra. As far as I was concerned, the win in Nicosia had basically done the job. Only a tragic run of results could continue our ruinous qualifying run spanning back decades. Even we weren't that unlucky...surely?!</div>
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It was clear from their performance days later that early pace-setters Israel had accepted that we were going to qualify despite the fact that a win for them would've put them right back into the mix. They parked the bus looking for a point to boost their play-off hopes and duly achieved that end. But qualification was only minutes away later that evening when Belgium themselves scored a late winner in Cyprus. The champagne was put back on ice. </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">The End-Game - Qualification</span></div>
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So it came down to two matches with only one point needed for qualification. A tricky away tie in Bosnia against a team scrapping for a play-off berth and the match against Andorra in Cardiff that if necessary, would surely be enough?!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Celebrating Qualification in Tenby on 'Super Saturday'!</b></td></tr>
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It was 'Super Saturday' with my old University friends and I watching Wales Vs Australia in the Rugby World Cup and then the Bosnian match in Tenby Rugby Club. The Guinness flowed, the atmosphere was superb and the tension as ever, sky high!</div>
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After 58 years of pain, it was probably only apt that it could only be us Welsh who would eventually triumph through defeat! Wales lost in the rugby and Bosnia inflicted a first qualifying defeat on our brave Dragons with a late 2-0 win. But it mattered not! The biggest roars of the day in Tenby Rugby Club were on the two occasions when Cyprus came onto our screen with goals in Israel!</div>
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Wales had lost - but we had qualified! AT LAST!!!!</div>
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<b>Party Time!</b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Time to party at Wales Vs Andorra!</b></td></tr>
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Back in September, I'd bought one of the final few tickets still available for the final match in Andorra. A win in Cardiff against Israel a month earlier would've secured qualification in front of a raucous home crowd but it wasn't to be. Instead, it was the hard-core of long-standing Welsh fans who would travel the world to see Welsh away matches who deservedly started the party in Bosnia, despite the defeat on the pitch that evening.</div>
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But the first home-coming celebratory match for our conquerors would be against Andorra - and I had a ticket! I've seen Wales play in qualifying campaigns for Euro 2000, Euro 2004 and Euro 2008 in Wrexham and Cardiff (oddly, I've never been to a World Cup qualifying match) and for over 20 years, had kept a close but sad eye on misadventure after misadventure. So I wasn't going to miss the party to end all parties for anything!!</div>
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The match was an anti-climax. Andorra parked their bus and reached Half-Time for the first time all qualifying, at all-square. But the celebrations really kicked off with Ramsey and Bale's 2nd Half efforts. The 33,000 strong sell-out crowd gave their Welsh Dragons a wonderful reception throughout and the after-match celebrations were akin to winning a Premier League title or FA Cup! It was a magical atmosphere!</div>
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Post-match, it was back to the city for more celebrations and in the good company of old friend and adopted Welshman, Northumbrian Matt Close. We went back to Clwb Ivor Bach where the Welsh fans congregated and celebrated into the early hours in style! Player anthems were sung with gusto and hits from the Ska/Reggae era blared out in glorious technicolour. The highlight for me was easily the many emotional renditions of Andy Williams' Welsh anthem from that failed 1994 campaign, 'Can't Take My Eyes Off You' in memory of Gary Speed. I took a few moments out of that mad, mad night of celebration to record this clip to give a sense of that raw euphoria that after decades of pain, could now be released in joy unbound!</div>
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<iframe width="320" height="266" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/E9meRVT8FtQ/0.jpg" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/E9meRVT8FtQ?feature=player_embedded" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>
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It was truly a night to savour. One of those <i>'I was there' </i>events which as a long-suffering Welsh football fan, I couldn't, couldn't miss.</div>
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I finished that melancholic blog post in 2010 with the following words...</div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #484848; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;"><i>"As </i>a friend mentioned on Facebook last night after the result, </span><em style="background-color: white; color: #484848; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;"><strong>'A World Cup or a Euro Finals once in my lifetime, that's all I ask Wales'. </strong>So</em><em style="background-color: white; color: #484848; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 14.85px; line-height: 20.79px;"> wept a whole generation of Welsh football fans last night".</em></blockquote>
Well dear friends, last week, a whole generation of Welsh football fans wept once more. But this time, they were tears of joy! We're going to have our moment in the sun in France 2016 and whilst we're going to bring colour and music to the party, we're not going to do so just to make up the numbers - we're turning up to ruffle a few feathers!<br />
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Paul Bodin...all is forgiven!<br />
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Wales? I love you baby!Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-21370399304855764092015-06-03T20:52:00.000+01:002015-06-03T22:34:55.750+01:00Charles KennedyBereft. There's no other word for it.<br />
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When the BBC News app shot through with the breaking news on my mobile just after 6am yesterday morning, I found myself lying in bed for an hour just stunned beyond belief.<br />
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I didn't really believe it. It couldn't be true. I turned on my laptop after 7am and of course, sadly, it was and is.<br />
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Charles Kennedy was leader of the Liberal Democrats when I joined as a green but enthusiastic new student in Aberystwyth in September 2000. I was struck by his youth, his enthusiasm, his internationalism...and his accent. He didn't sound like a politician. He sounded like a normal person. Of course, that's because that's exactly what he was.<br />
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<b>Iraq</b><br />
His leadership and indeed his political career could probably be encapsulated with his courageous decision to vote against the war in Iraq when the prevailing consensus was overwhelmingly in favour.<br />
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I recall doing my first ever media appearance for the party in the 2003 Welsh Liberal Democrat conference in Swansea which happened to fall on the weekend after we went to war in Iraq. I recall the morning of war (was it a Thursday?) and I was walking around the University concourse in a daze in shock at what my country was about to take a part in. I was clear in my mind in that first ever interview, live on Radio Wales that my leader was absolutely correct in his stance. History of course, will treat him kindly for his principled stand.<br />
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<b>Meeting Charlie</b><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisIK2s3PrALYUtVdpM8Tc1G3H6aLLH6xAp0aKV6V9i6KixFKHuH_n-lC3LQAKJngppBQTY-nPhOjIa7EL8wAup-eW1ghqW39mxZ_vyfnlb2lgO8I_5OCF4iCpbRbJfGocO4R_xzWm6dW3J/s1600/Charles+Kennedy+Letter+%2528June+%252704%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisIK2s3PrALYUtVdpM8Tc1G3H6aLLH6xAp0aKV6V9i6KixFKHuH_n-lC3LQAKJngppBQTY-nPhOjIa7EL8wAup-eW1ghqW39mxZ_vyfnlb2lgO8I_5OCF4iCpbRbJfGocO4R_xzWm6dW3J/s320/Charles+Kennedy+Letter+%2528June+%252704%2529.jpg" width="226" /></a>It was with great excitement that friends and I from the Aberystwyth University student society got to meet with Charles in the Welsh conference of spring 2004 in Mold where he presented us with our 'Best LDYS Student Branch in the UK' award. He spoke to everyone and had that famous common touch that made us all feel relaxed in his company. Exactly what I would want in a leader.<br />
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He then amazed me just months later after I was first elected to Ceredigion County Council in June 2004. Aged 21, I was one of Wales' youngest Councillors and awaiting me in my pigeon hole before my first meeting in the Council Chamber was a House of Commons envelope. Who was this from? Lembit Opik I rememeber presuming as he was Welsh Liberal Democrat leader at the time. No, it was from Charles Kennedy. A beautifully handwritten note reminded me that being the youngest elected was no bar to future success with particular reference to David Steel, Matthew Taylor and Sarah Teather. Typical of Charles, he didn't mention himself in that exulted list!<br />
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<b>Alcohol</b><br />
His resignation in early 2006 after leading the party to its greatest House of Commons representation since the days of David Lloyd George was a blow but rumours within the party of his fight with alcohol had been abound for some time. Even as a young member, my student colleagues and I weren't immune to the rumours but that was all they were. I vividly recall the 2004 spring federal conference in Southport when, looking gaunt, Charles sweated profusely throughout his main conference concluding speech. I remember leaving the auditorium and the clamour from the media was for comment on his health. I recall particularly, Sky News looking to track down a young activist to give comment and having now been a member for a few years sensed a trap for newer members so I leapt in and offered myself to say a few words. I honestly accepted the formal statement that Charles was not well. There may have been rumours, but I couldn't believe them. Of course in hindsight, his core team were shielding him the best they could. But the media wouldn't relent. Clearly not getting the response from myself that they were looking for, they cleverly changed tack and asked who I believed may be the next leader after Charles in the future. They were clearly digging for the names of rival leadership candidates and I recall momentarily considering the question before responding, out of nowhere, that the future leadership of the party after Charles Kennedy hadn't even crossed my mind as it was years down the road. It was snappily good response and Sky News gave in on their interrogation. Apparently, my comments were part of a package of responses that were relayed on a news loop throughout the rest of that day on Sky News.<br />
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<b>The Future</b><br />
The birth of Donald was greeted with joy from the party faithful but sadly, the marriage was dissolved and as the years went on, concerns continued to be raised as he had now opened up publicly to his demons. His recent and sadly, final performance of BBC's Question Time showed that he was still not well and with the death of his father in April, I was personally very concerned about how he may respond to a defeat in May in a Nationalist SNP landslide. I therefore made the rare decision of directly supporting a candidate outside of Wales in the election campaign. I donated £50 to play my part in the hopeful re-election of a man who I admired so deeply. In return, I received another handwritten letter of gratitude for my contribution. It was written in the same hand-written scrawl as the letter that I received over a decade earlier. Again, that personal touch went such a long way.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMNxFBq03n00d8j1U9A-OUSj7adbrWs5RPX4ww9o3ruB4cs1p5S-bJGDDiR8UzLTXDLOu8RvH-Ab8mlHY92eBAaoMXhMnAQHCvkk015mPzUQeud4AiLygVEuYS5m26NFK_rsc83WLhPWw/s1600/Charles+Kennedy+Letter+%2528April+%252715%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZMNxFBq03n00d8j1U9A-OUSj7adbrWs5RPX4ww9o3ruB4cs1p5S-bJGDDiR8UzLTXDLOu8RvH-Ab8mlHY92eBAaoMXhMnAQHCvkk015mPzUQeud4AiLygVEuYS5m26NFK_rsc83WLhPWw/s320/Charles+Kennedy+Letter+%2528April+%252715%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
The tsunami that swept the party's parliamentary representation away in the early hours of the 8th May left only 8 in its wake. Sadly, Charles was not one of them. Yet in his speech, his typical humour shone through. He seemed to have taken it so much better than Danny Alexander had taken his defeat in the neighbouring constituency.<br />
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He spoke about his intention to contribute in the forthcoming referendum debate on Britain's involvement in the European Union. As a fellow staunch internationalist, I was looking forward to his passionate contributions over the coming 12 months. Sadly, it will not be.<br />
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Even more sadly, he leaves young Donald and his family to mourn the loss of a much loved father and family man.<br />
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With a third increase in membership of over 16,000 to over 61,000 since polling day and an imminent leadership contest vote just weeks away, the party that he so proudly led will move on.<br />
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But it will do so without one of liberalism's most passionate advocates. As a good and close friend of mine succinctly put it:<br />
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<i>"I didn't think it was possible for liberals to wake up to worse news than the results on 8th May. I was wrong".</i></blockquote>
Rest in Peace Charles. Your work here is done and you have left a lasting legacy of love, humour, action and commitment to the progressive cause. Sleep well brother.<br />
<br />Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-39922182060652533272015-01-16T20:17:00.000+00:002015-01-16T20:17:05.087+00:00"Somehow...he's got to the fluke the yellow..." - Rocket Ronnie's Masterful MomentI've mentioned <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2011/01/id-rather-be-watching-darts-down-at.html">previously</a> of my desire to visit the that sporting Mecca the Alexandra Palace or the 'Ally Pally' as it is lovingly known to its many fans.<br />
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But when I visited last Tuesday, it wasn't for the darts (but that day will come) but for the snooker.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA1Ct-4WXC4yCwNaZYAkhjdH59AGPF8VFK13vixygZwFIn_KoPMyZgkfv6YzTTXxAWy-IOpiHrin6j9z7aD4Jj2qwQbL47YagwwaFHo_Vur0Y_svTy0TuZgtvdlPFTs5jjzLLgGtP7hb2k/s1600/Mark+@+Masters.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA1Ct-4WXC4yCwNaZYAkhjdH59AGPF8VFK13vixygZwFIn_KoPMyZgkfv6YzTTXxAWy-IOpiHrin6j9z7aD4Jj2qwQbL47YagwwaFHo_Vur0Y_svTy0TuZgtvdlPFTs5jjzLLgGtP7hb2k/s1600/Mark+@+Masters.jpg" height="320" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Joy!</b></td></tr>
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Having been a snooker fan since I can remember (the 1991 World Championship final between John Parrott and Jimmy White is my earliest recollection), it has been a sporting dream of mine to watch it live. But never did I realise I would witness a little bit of snooker history before my very eyes at my very first attempt.</div>
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But before the history, the context...</div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>'Ally Pally'</b></div>
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The Crucible in Sheffield is the Holy Grail but before Xmas, I finally made the effort to buy tickets for arguably the most prestigious snooker tournament after the World Championship - the Masters.</div>
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So it was with no little amount of excitement that I made the hike up the hill from the train station towards the Palace in eagerness for a day of snooker action.</div>
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If any player could challenge the records set by 7 time World Champion Stephen Hendry, then it's Ronnie O'Sullivan and when I bought my tickets last month, I did so knowing that this tormented genius and reigning Masters champion would be playing his first round match on the day in question.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQGS735oPKXROyz17dp50H81cw1WbDz2qn36xDT4iMQM_grduZCGg_96PhvWmJgo694MNEveRunOKc-QH6GP-SzaYVTANy9NS3i0JKjkTCvnxOW8ag01AeQELKNiUr1Bu8g26tYWilcWD/s1600/Rocket+Ronnie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQGS735oPKXROyz17dp50H81cw1WbDz2qn36xDT4iMQM_grduZCGg_96PhvWmJgo694MNEveRunOKc-QH6GP-SzaYVTANy9NS3i0JKjkTCvnxOW8ag01AeQELKNiUr1Bu8g26tYWilcWD/s1600/Rocket+Ronnie.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>An Eagled Eye snap of Ronnie O' Sullivan preparing <br />for his introduction to the arena.</b></td></tr>
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From my vantage point in the very back row of the audience, I had a great view of the action and the 1,800 seat arena which was packed out for the afternoon session. But because I was in the back row, it meant I could also lean over from a great height and see the mercurial <i>'Rocket' </i>prepare to being introduced to the arena by the MC Rob Walker. A unique sight.</div>
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I lapped up the sights and sounds and in particular, the soft voices of 6 time World Champion Steve Davies and John Virgo commentate through the ear-piece that was purchased out in the foyer. Dead, reverent calm and quiet whilst the two gladiators went into action with only the sounds of Davis and Virgo cutting through the tension.</div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<b>Ronnie O'Sullivan Vs Ricky Walden</b></div>
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From the outset, the match was tense with a scrappy opening session being won by Ronnie 3-1 against Ricky Walden. After the mid-session interval, Ronnie was on target for a century. I went into the day presuming that he had 770 career tons to his name, a full 5 behind the all-time mark left by Hendry. Even Ronnie couldn't possibly score 5 centuries in a first to 6 encounter I thought so had no consideration of watching a piece of snooker history that day. For once, my sporting stats were out-of-date and as he moved towards the century mark, the commentary made it clear that this would be his 774th. Suddenly, I realised that I may be in the box seat to watch snooker history in person. But the commentators curse struck as John Virgo noted how incredible it would be for Ronnie to equal, if not beat the mark on Stephen Hendry's birthday. For with his next shot, Ronnie missed and the break ended on 91. But any disappointment at this near miss was relieved when Ronnie scored a 100 break in the very next frame, putting him 5-1 ahead and within 1 century of equalling the record.</div>
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But this put me in a quandary. I wanted to see a Rocket win but to equal the record, he had to score a century in his final winning frame so every time a frame broke down, I wanted to see Ricky clinch it to give Ronnie another chance for that century. Ricky started well by scoring a 100 break of his own to reduce the arrears to 5-2. He then won two more including one after Ronnie broke down on a break of 66 which left Ricky needing two snookers. It looked as if the game was all over but Ricky kept on fighting, laid a snooker which Ronnie missed and then left a free ball. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Ricky was right back in it and I was quietly pleased. Not only did it mean even better value for money for me and my £10 ticket but it also meant that Ronnie wasn't going to fall over the line, one short of the record.</div>
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But at 5-4 it was now getting very close! Ricky had a chance after a Ronnie foul to pot a tricky red into the middle pocket. But he missed and let the Rocket in. Ronnie made light work of what was on the table and moved towards a frame and match winning position. It was now simply a matter of whether he could cap a workmanlike win with that record-equalling century. It looked odds-against as the yellow and brown were both tight up on the baulk cushion.</div>
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<b>Century Number 775</b></div>
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Ronnie cleared the reds and on a break of 82, had the final black from which to manoeuvre himself into those troublesome yellow and brown balls. He failed.</div>
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Whispering into our ears came the voice of John Virgo who said what we all knew...</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<i>"Somehow...he's got to the fluke the yellow..."</i></blockquote>
As the Youtube clip here can testify, there was a ripple of laughter around the auditorium as we all forlornly acknowledged to ourselves that this historic finale was probably beyond even the Rocket's abilities.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/ANjmLfoLiA0" width="560"></iframe><br />
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Then...he swung his cue, hit the yellow and as it rebounded off 3 cushions, we could see it careering towards the centre pocket. It didn't even rattle in the jaws - it went straight in!<br />
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Pandemonium!! Suddenly, this quiet and respectable snooker audience were now more akin to the one that had been witnessing the darts two weeks earlier! We were all going barmy and I was leading the encore! What was more remarkable was that having fluked the yellow, he was easily on the green and the brown had rebounded out towards a similarly comfortable position. The century making, history levelling blue...was merely on its spot! He went on to clear the pink and black for a 116 clearance!<br />
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This must've been akin to watching a 147 maximum break or a 9-darter. Absolute sporting hysteria!! Wonderful scenes!<br />
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<b>Get Carter</b><br />
We now had a 2 hour plus break before the evening session and to be honest, we needed it to calm down after that incredible excitement! Some food and some drinks later and we returned to our seats to watch Ali Carter Vs Barry Hawkins.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_qnYoUbMFNJ5pnPhKGtB8bsbUZ4qZNVSl-QZ39-U8RxtAzLlJp4GbxdVSWufLTVaHqxtKUniqpgNQthSiEGpSjN2PZOEitVyQhCAKlSV69Rx7QSYSr72FArswkRtqOZd5am3VGMai6odo/s1600/Mark+@+Masters+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_qnYoUbMFNJ5pnPhKGtB8bsbUZ4qZNVSl-QZ39-U8RxtAzLlJp4GbxdVSWufLTVaHqxtKUniqpgNQthSiEGpSjN2PZOEitVyQhCAKlSV69Rx7QSYSr72FArswkRtqOZd5am3VGMai6odo/s1600/Mark+@+Masters+2.jpg" height="238" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>A wonderful vantage point to see the action.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Emotion was high as the crowd gave Carter a standing ovation on arriving in the arena after he was given the all-clear from lung cancer before Xmas having previously survived testicular cancer. I questioned whether his lack of match-fitness might make him ring-rusty against the very well regarded Hawkins. But no, it was Carter who came out of the blocks playing as if he hadn't had a months long lay-off and eventually cruised to a 6-1 win against a disappointing Hawk. His penultimate frame 130 clearance was a highlight.<br />
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At 10pm, the lights were being turned out and we made our way back to Alexandra Train Station and it gave me time to look back over a remarkable debut in the world of live snooker.<br />
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In snooker, the fabled 'Triple Crown' consists of the Masters as well as the World and UK Championships. Perhaps as a fan, I need to attempt to complete my own Triple Crown by visiting the latter two in the future.</div>
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But if I do, I doubt I'll be able to top that day in 'Ally Pally' when, with a slice of luck but with a great amount of skill, we watched Ronnie O'Sullivan equal Stephen Hendry's record of 775 century breaks...and on Hendry's birthday!</div>
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<br /></div>
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Seriously...as live snooker goes, I'll never top that!</div>
Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-53708337004725567282014-12-31T14:10:00.000+00:002014-12-31T14:10:18.188+00:00A New Years Resolution: Preserving Dad's Photographic Inheritance - 50 Years OnIt was some time ago that I blogged <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/preserving-dads-photographic.html">here</a> about my long-overdue intention to preserve my Dad's photographic collection from the 1960s and 1970s.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgemQG6p931lTWESi_0qnQX-ymPafuRg4UdIRlrUym6K9bFZlJ8RFiIDysno0R3lmNoQaynXUGwBbyBx5nEUdhVQA2aCa-XWKsyyFiTvELOeFs_ZEOQqxlt3UI9_qqJgFq7QTZ_x4nY_wa/s1600/Setting+Potatoes+(2)%2B1961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgemQG6p931lTWESi_0qnQX-ymPafuRg4UdIRlrUym6K9bFZlJ8RFiIDysno0R3lmNoQaynXUGwBbyBx5nEUdhVQA2aCa-XWKsyyFiTvELOeFs_ZEOQqxlt3UI9_qqJgFq7QTZ_x4nY_wa/s1600/Setting+Potatoes+(2)%2B1961.jpg" height="132" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Potato Harvesting in south <br />Pembrokeshire in 1962</b></td></tr>
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Almost 1,000 slides depicting family and social life in south Pembrokeshire had remained in boxes for the best part of 20 years. These were photos which he had developed himself in his own dark room back at our Hungerford Farm and we are now 50 years on.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfih_JXyYUZprlcz5DYdU-3zQCpT1HssaaG0fxHfqdVAmlCwMu1wfWPewQfWfMOMfNGNy4xCTt5aiyKmJiCBqWB_HlI1V0HmvRC2Vgbywki4iZH9dCERgc2glHyAadxrOh9jYmILQSfwc/s1600/Potato+Harvester+(1)%2B1964.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEfih_JXyYUZprlcz5DYdU-3zQCpT1HssaaG0fxHfqdVAmlCwMu1wfWPewQfWfMOMfNGNy4xCTt5aiyKmJiCBqWB_HlI1V0HmvRC2Vgbywki4iZH9dCERgc2glHyAadxrOh9jYmILQSfwc/s1600/Potato+Harvester+(1)%2B1964.JPG" height="132" width="200" /></a>The job of transferring them to modern media was only finally completed by myself, after initial help from Scolton Manor, last year in time for the 10th anniversary of Dad's death in June 2003. I have however not given them the wider attention that is available to me with modern media and I plan to put this right.<br />
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I therefore cast my <b>New Year's Resolution</b> to showcase more of those photos through my blog to remind us of this bygone era. Photos that will show that in some ways, so much has changed in 50 years and some in contrast that show the contrary.<br />
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<b><u>Potato Harvesting</u></b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2tOJSfRg41SWgkkkYn00CiYL6cMMTzlT8H7DUdeoeFQ1i7zivbEgLBo3OOdUp5xntziqNqvN_5YW3AI35ONxl8TewezPNYHLLt-aAiuG4XLQs58g2HadZRXzMYoEDzUevvmDbOVsln5I/s1600/Having+Dinner+Martin+Hill+1961.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2tOJSfRg41SWgkkkYn00CiYL6cMMTzlT8H7DUdeoeFQ1i7zivbEgLBo3OOdUp5xntziqNqvN_5YW3AI35ONxl8TewezPNYHLLt-aAiuG4XLQs58g2HadZRXzMYoEDzUevvmDbOVsln5I/s1600/Having+Dinner+Martin+Hill+1961.jpg" height="132" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Work and play!</b></td></tr>
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I begin with a throwback a full half-century to the early 1960s and to the communal rural activity of potato harvesting.<br />
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Here we see neighbours helping neighbours with what was a routine but necessary and time-consuming activity.The necessity could at least be turned on its head and made into a social occasion as neighbouring families would help each other out each year with their crop.<br />
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Men, women and children would do what was required and here we see such examples in south Pembrokeshire. The first and third photos are taken at Martin's Hill Farm near Martletwy.</div>
Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-46516755261080453542014-09-10T21:07:00.000+01:002014-09-10T22:03:03.830+01:00The Legacy of Anna Thomas of Pantygarn, Eglwyswrw (1840-1907)On September 10th 1864, two neighbouring Eglwyswrw families in north Pembrokeshire, the Lewis and Thomas families of Carnhuan and Pantygarn respectively, joined together in holy matrimony.<br />
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150 years later to the day, the same family live at the two farms in question, Carnhuan and Pantygarn and are now 3rd cousins. In 21st century rural community life, this is rare feat of endurance.<br />
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<b>The Year? 1849</b></div>
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Stephen Lewis was my gg-grandfather and he moved to my maternal family farm at Carnhuan aged 27 with his father Thomas Lewis and grandparents Stephen and Eleanor Lewis in 1849. Anna Thomas meanwhile moved with her parents David (Dafydd) and Elizabeth (Leisa) Thomas as the youngest of 8 children, to neighbouring Pantygarn in that very same year of 1849 as a mere 9 year old. Anna was 18 years younger than her future husband, Stephen.</div>
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<b>The Year? 1864</b></div>
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15 years later, these two families would join together when Stephen married his much younger neighbour at Cardigan Registry Office on 10th September 1864. On the marriage certificate however, it gave Stephen's age as 32 and not 42, as was in fact the case. They went on to have 6 children - David, Margaret, Elizabeth, Stephen, Griffith and Harry.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYzexk4ftGkocOu6V-lQ7X0r_RNq5AIHbFuu6id90fDAUf9MFauxGFHyQX4MToh3b1brMLFc8TNDap7szSpa_SiG58rkla7frk8tpnl6tgQd0nrjEyAaAC9vZK985uTDBV_SnY4Wyipk5/s1600/Stephen+Lewis+&+Hannah+Thomas+Marriage+Certificate+(1864).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYzexk4ftGkocOu6V-lQ7X0r_RNq5AIHbFuu6id90fDAUf9MFauxGFHyQX4MToh3b1brMLFc8TNDap7szSpa_SiG58rkla7frk8tpnl6tgQd0nrjEyAaAC9vZK985uTDBV_SnY4Wyipk5/s1600/Stephen+Lewis+&+Hannah+Thomas+Marriage+Certificate+(1864).jpg" height="176" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>A copy of Stephen and Anna's Marriage Certificate<br />from 10th September 1864. Stephen was 10 years older <br />than stated.</b></td></tr>
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Stephen Thomas Lewis, born 1870, was my great-grandfather and he would go on to farm Carnhuan after the death of his uncle Griffith (his father Stephen Lewis' older brother) in 1895. The farm then continued in the family through his son John Rees Lewis (1909-1991) and to this present day with his son, my Uncle Howard Lewis.</div>
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The family of the youngest of the 6 children meanwhile, Harry, would go on to farm the maternal farm at Pantygarn through his son-in-law Daniel Morgan. Daniel's grandson Harry Lewis Morgan (see what they did there?!) now runs the farm with his young family.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXOqjPcqpCyd5Y6JYIYrTGrAIwmaAzTnrutHiW_Z5EisNFUblInCh19h1_TxBHLAa3mbFa4N0ZYZlBgb91dnpkw5io3kx7t_foivqfVUG38VM-XS760UTwznPqxa-L9DWm5J6uUrLa3rkC/s1600/Anna+&+Stephen+Lewis+Pantygarn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXOqjPcqpCyd5Y6JYIYrTGrAIwmaAzTnrutHiW_Z5EisNFUblInCh19h1_TxBHLAa3mbFa4N0ZYZlBgb91dnpkw5io3kx7t_foivqfVUG38VM-XS760UTwznPqxa-L9DWm5J6uUrLa3rkC/s1600/Anna+&+Stephen+Lewis+Pantygarn.jpg" height="251" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Anna Thomas (1840-1907) & Stephen Lewis 1821-1924)</b></td></tr>
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What then happened to the original pairing that gave us today in 2014 the owners of these two neighbouring farmsteads?</div>
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Stephen went on to live to the grand old age of 102. Born in late December 1821, he died in April 1924. His obituary referred to him as the <i>'Grand Old Man of Pembrokeshire'</i>.</div>
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<div>
His much younger wife Anna however had predeceased him by over 16 years in December 1907 after 43 years of marriage. But despite her relative youth compared to that of her husband, there was no doubting the boss in this relationship.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Bethabara Baptist Chapel</b></div>
<div>
Because Anna was the daughter of a staunch Baptist family. Her parents had started up the local Sunday School from their Ty Rhos home in the foothill of the Preseli Hills in the early 1820s before her father Dafydd, a mason helped to build the local Baptist Chapel, Bethabara at Pontyglasier near Crosswell in 1826.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The children were all brought up with the faith with two of Anna's brothers going into the Ministry - Stephen Thomas and Benjamin Thomas were well regarded Baptist Ministers and the latter a well known Welsh Bard who worked under the Bardic name <i>'Myfyr Emlyn'</i>.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Stephen's family were Anglican - he was baptised in June 1822 at Eglwyswen Church - within half a mile of the soon to be founded Bethabara Baptist Chapel. By 1864, now living in Eglwyswrw, the local village church was just down the road from the farmsteads of Carnhuah and Pantygarn. Bethabara Chapel meanwhile was a further distance away but to which were the 6 children sent?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yes, Anna wore the trousers here and David, Margaret, Elizabeth, Stephen, Griffith and Harry were sent to chapel...and not to church.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The main two protagonists moving forward, Stephen Thomas Lewis and Harry Lewis, were deacons at Bethabara, long after their parents were both buried there in the shadows of the main building and within a short distance of Anna's devout parents Dafydd and Leisa Thomas who died in 1874 and 1864 respectively. The former passed away on Christmas Day and the latter just 6 weeks before the marriage of her youngest child.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>The Legacy of Anna Thomas</b></div>
<div>
I knew that sometime, somewhere, I would be baptised. My simple but quiet faith has over the years been tested but deep down, it was more a matter of when, not if.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I attended Martletwy Sunday School in the south of the county and with my paternal grandparents interred there, I always believed that the same would be said for me. But when my father passed away and on his instructions was interred at my maternal chapel home at Bethabara in the north of the county, it made me re-consider everything.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
After many years of thoughtful consideration, my family history odyssey of late, with the exceptional influence of Anna Thomas in the forefront of my mind, finally helped me make up my mind.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So it was in early July this year that I was baptised in the external baptismal pool in the cemetery grounds at Bethabara, within a small distance of the final resting places of my father, my maternal grandfather John Rees Lewis and his wife Sarah Anne Morgans, his parents Stephen Thomas Lewis and Martha John Rees and his parents of course, Stephen Lewis and Anna Thomas. Not forgetting her own parents Dafydd and Leisa Thomas.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I felt as if I'd come home and as I moved from the chapel towards the vestry for some light refreshments, I planted a kiss on the headstone of old Stephen and his dominant wife Anna.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Had their families not have moved to Carnhuan and Pantygarn respectively in that year of 1849, it is highly unlikely that they would have married 15 years later on this day, 150 years ago. In which case of course, I would not be here now, telling you their rather unique story.</div>
Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-40537794451307677232014-06-30T15:34:00.000+01:002014-06-30T15:34:59.237+01:00Rolf Harris - GUILTY of Child AbuseDevastated isn't the word.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I adored Rolf Harris. Didn't we all?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I loved the man. Loved his art. Loved his humanity with animals. Loved, absolutely loved, his eccentric musical career.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As the court case progressed, I became increasingly uneasy at what was coming to light.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
His letter written to the parents of one of his accusers many years ago told us of a dark side to Rolf Harris that none of us knew about. He had kept it so well hidden.</div>
<div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Also, his claim to have never been to Cambridge, only for archive TV footage to be found that showed him in a 'It's a Knockout' style programme from Cambridge that was hosted by Michael Aspell.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The jury had been out, considering its verdict, for over a week. The longer they were deliberating, the more I became sure that some guilty verdicts may be returned.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigOKehB0TCEzCqJKUVJkTCdHiB2KugtwFx3-wwBgCNqxb2OSDLKcTCGLzEZVNtWUpH674FnxzhChYXop2U1D-r5HgRzcKuDmhoNH_1wsiVthTtEmh_9Cvlo6lLgPE4mayGPTFNLMoiPXw-/s1600/Rolf+Harris+CD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigOKehB0TCEzCqJKUVJkTCdHiB2KugtwFx3-wwBgCNqxb2OSDLKcTCGLzEZVNtWUpH674FnxzhChYXop2U1D-r5HgRzcKuDmhoNH_1wsiVthTtEmh_9Cvlo6lLgPE4mayGPTFNLMoiPXw-/s1600/Rolf+Harris+CD.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
But for a clean sweep of 12 verdicts of indecent assault to be given against him still came as a shock. He remains on bail before he returns to court on Friday to be sentenced. Surely, it will be a custodial sentence. He deserves nothing less and his victims deserve nothing less.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I am just left feeling lost that a happy part of my childhood has been wiped out as a lie. Just as it was with Jimmy Saville.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For generations of us, this collective memory has failed us and episodes of past vintage television programmes now will be destroyed or hidden into the dark recesses of the media archives.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As I said, I particularly loved his music and despite gentle ridicule from friends over many years, proudly claimed ownership of his 'Best of'...' album. <i>'Jake the Peg'</i>, <i>'Tie Me Kangaroo Down', 'Sun Arise' </i>and his iconic 1969/1970 Number One, <i>'Two Little Boys'</i> were just a few of the favourites. I adored them.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now, I have destroyed that CD as a result of this afternoon's verdicts. Just as he has destroyed a part of my childhood. Just as his own reputation has been left in tatters.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My thoughts and condolences are with his victims at this difficult time.</div>
Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-41177026154312574482014-06-10T20:16:00.000+01:002014-06-10T20:16:20.019+01:00Helping Others - 10 Years as a Ceredigion County Councillor<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The 9th of June 2003 was the worst day of my life as my father departed
this life and left a bereaved family in his wake.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeehpdMe3-aJ45Wun1_FOPOD7MmePx_-sYiNqcA8xriwvt6dUsbCr44sl_eslKjgjyVzF_U7xLMLCaKRVak1xv2Q12gQ7EY-Ru-_6qyXHq7z_VsNADoYoZVgzJDq_QD-gzApKQmd8bRQQk/s1600/2004+Cardigan+Election+Communication.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeehpdMe3-aJ45Wun1_FOPOD7MmePx_-sYiNqcA8xriwvt6dUsbCr44sl_eslKjgjyVzF_U7xLMLCaKRVak1xv2Q12gQ7EY-Ru-_6qyXHq7z_VsNADoYoZVgzJDq_QD-gzApKQmd8bRQQk/s1600/2004+Cardigan+Election+Communication.jpg" height="320" width="147" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>My 2004 election<br />communication.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The following year was particularly tough. His first birthday, the first Christmas, the first New Year after his passing - they're always the toughest. It accumulated in the first anniversary of his loss a year later. Which made the following day, significant in an additional way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">For the 10th of June</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> 2004 saw me standing in front of Cardigan
Guildhall, welcoming voters to the polling booth in the traditional Cardigan
way, alongside other Cardigan town candidates in the local authority elections
of that year.</span><br />
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1k6ZlqoyNSbrxLIh5L1T0sJw3K_jin4lOSdN0d-OM8F0vANtwDvlmgD09VDFs_mDiH-aCWrcJLFWEWs4TIRCgQDg-p-LaBrjXV6EZ6fqo3xeeLaxSDU46dichGs-vnSoFqtztxmvA81En/s1600/June+2004+%2528Tiy+Side%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1k6ZlqoyNSbrxLIh5L1T0sJw3K_jin4lOSdN0d-OM8F0vANtwDvlmgD09VDFs_mDiH-aCWrcJLFWEWs4TIRCgQDg-p-LaBrjXV6EZ6fqo3xeeLaxSDU46dichGs-vnSoFqtztxmvA81En/s1600/June+2004+%2528Tiy+Side%2529.jpg" height="259" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Head-to-Head - The Tivy Side article on the eve of the <br />election in 2004.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I was only 21 and despite living in Aberystwyth at the time (where I
also stood for Aberystwyth Town Council), I had ventured over the previous 3
weeks to knock on every door in what was the newly created ward of Cardigan
Rhyd-Y-Fuwch. I had no expectation of winning but wanted to give local
residents a choice - and it was a choice between myself or my 73 year old Plaid
Cymru opponent Melfydd George.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The count itself that evening was an emotional one. My mother, as well
as her cousin Beatrice Davies and my eldest brother Huw all came along and in
the emotional context of this being 366 days after the death of William Lance
Cole, the last thing our nerves really needed was a nail-biting finish in the
ward count - but that's what we got. In the end, amidst some tears and an
over-riding sense of fatigue, that then green 21 year old squeezed home an
unexpected winner with the wafer-thin majority of 18 votes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVNToY-BuU7qZTSWiubdvn1KnSyQ2NMlRoCJhGqHt7yAzBJ3HcbqRzubwkTHzXgp2EGaal4mEdxICxFM_DV6kKzc7gU6V_eV-WwPr4vcffkjXF8hK-pixb6P1lO5GIlnBIKMyAbgBf6BZO/s1600/June+2004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVNToY-BuU7qZTSWiubdvn1KnSyQ2NMlRoCJhGqHt7yAzBJ3HcbqRzubwkTHzXgp2EGaal4mEdxICxFM_DV6kKzc7gU6V_eV-WwPr4vcffkjXF8hK-pixb6P1lO5GIlnBIKMyAbgBf6BZO/s1600/June+2004.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Cambrian News article from the <br />17th June - except I was actually only <br />the 4th youngest Welsh Councillor!</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The Chains of Office</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It has been the greatest privilege over the following 10 years to have
served the residents of my ward to the best of my ability. This was made much
easier when I moved permanently to live in town in the December of 2005. Until
then, I combined my commitments with those of also being an elected Town
Councillor in Aberystwyth (by a 19 vote majority!) - as Charles Kennedy the
then Leader of the Liberal Democrats called it in a personally hand-written
letter to me the week after the election, <i>'a veritable double whammy'!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br />
</span></i><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">I stood down from Aberystwyth in 2008 and stood for Cardigan Town
Council to better compliment my county council duties and at the latter level,
was returned with 86% of the vote and within a year, was being sworn in as one
of Cardigan's youngest-ever Mayors at age 26. Come 2012, re-election with 76%
of the vote quickly followed with my being sworn in as Ceredigion County
Council's youngest-ever Chairman at age 29.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Cardigan</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Throughout those years, I have kept resolutely to a philosophy of being
approachable and open to the residents of my ward (and sometimes beyond!),
working without favour and regardless of politics. Over the years, as a
community we have resolved the troublesome 'Tesco Junction', seen Cardigan
Castle slowly emerge from the shadows and watched as the Bathhouse and 'balls
on the river' sagas nearly tore our town in two. We continue to fight for
proper in-patient beds in our new 'Hospital' and we await news on whether
Sainsbury's will actually move into Bathhouse after all...or not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFyfq-jcFIdK8zFHGZbT_WhkhY1VLqWq_6IeEy4ru45NZCx2ajiEOVaZoneclmOFDOD9f4TyzJSowId5llHwIhDqfL3-B07413SWf7I_jKHUNuaQip0ALLD9IL7eMSuOe2rDMlfAi1b99/s1600/June+2004+%2528Western+Mail%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxFyfq-jcFIdK8zFHGZbT_WhkhY1VLqWq_6IeEy4ru45NZCx2ajiEOVaZoneclmOFDOD9f4TyzJSowId5llHwIhDqfL3-B07413SWf7I_jKHUNuaQip0ALLD9IL7eMSuOe2rDMlfAi1b99/s1600/June+2004+%2528Western+Mail%2529.jpg" height="259" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Western Mail article from 14th June 2004 - except I <br />was actually only the 4th youngest Welsh Councillor!</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">In the meantime, as well as these bigger things, I've continued to the best of my ability to help with
those little things that make a big difference to the quality of life of those
living in our community - fixing those pot-holes, mending those broken street
lights, and getting the grass cut. It may not be sexy politics, but it's what
counts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It's a matter of remembering that the role of the local Councillor is to
be <i>'the voice of the community in the Council'</i> as opposed to
being <i>'the voice of the Council in the community'</i> which
inevitably is what many Councillors become after unwittingly <i>'going
native' </i>after many years on the Council.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Within that Council, based in Aberaeron, I have had good relations with
colleagues of all political colours. Indeed, only today <span style="background: white;">an external advisor from the Centre for Public
Scrutiny, reporting back on his observations of Ceredigion's scrutiny process,
stated that...</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><i></i></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><i>
</i><span style="background: white;"><i>"Relationships between Cabinet and Scrutiny
appear to be generally sound and there is evidence of mature attitudes,
goodwill, mutual respect and good personal relationships".</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_1drdKMIf-RCkJxOfJSrfvc9B7ggxD9nMTQJTgRjlWbpC-MaKg0-Il4a_tgFUtsu5l0gCYCuX71OBoZuNnMbHWJJcIBtb6PkQYvx6CWvng9AjCfRSLoZQbHZ2v85UEhDRkzs3hAmHckzQ/s1600/Charles+Kennedy+Letter+%2528June+%252704%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_1drdKMIf-RCkJxOfJSrfvc9B7ggxD9nMTQJTgRjlWbpC-MaKg0-Il4a_tgFUtsu5l0gCYCuX71OBoZuNnMbHWJJcIBtb6PkQYvx6CWvng9AjCfRSLoZQbHZ2v85UEhDRkzs3hAmHckzQ/s1600/Charles+Kennedy+Letter+%2528June+%252704%2529.jpg" height="320" width="226" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The hand-written letter from Charles<br />Kennedy MP, then leader of the<br />Liberal Democrats.</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">This is pleasing to read because, as boring as it may sound, this is
actually the case. Despite political and policy differences, I have always
found working with my Council colleagues to be more a pleasure than a burden.
We get on well individually and as a result, the scrutiny relationship between
executive and legislature is more productive.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="background: white;"></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="background: white;"></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><span style="background: white;">But it's the residents back in Cardigan that matter most.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">The Future</b><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">It's a wonderfully fickle thing, the future.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Losing Dad aged 20 on the eve
of my graduation in Aberystwyth University forced me to instill in myself
a steely resolve to live my life to the full and a life-long desire to help
others and make a difference in life flowed naturally from that.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 13.5pt;">Whatever the future may hold, I can look back with pride at having,
above all else, served the wonderful residents of Cardigan Rhyd-Y-Fuwch Ward on Ceredigion County Council for over a decade.</span></div>
Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-76908207252453795732014-04-03T19:17:00.001+01:002014-04-03T19:20:34.093+01:00'An Educated Lady' from Eglwyswrw. The Story of a woman I never met - my grandmother Sarah Anne MorgansMy blog has laid fallow for some time but I return on the back of my growing genealogical research to commemorate the life of my maternal grandmother Sarah Anne Lewis (nee Morgans) of Nantyrhelygen Fawr and latterly of Carnhuan in Eglwyswrw, north Pembrokeshire.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVnIp9V7f6iKumz1gFAaZ8Q6yhQenIuHgwG70oaTPEcYqwyXRUF863BnU3w0Y6-e6wQFWN2IpGXs9VDGfGp_8VEw2CA6nLvPxnzOTEOr_niZiyb7zlgi9VEgkBgROKMiov8ud_jXiOZul/s1600/'An+Educated+Lady'+from+Eglwyswrw0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVnIp9V7f6iKumz1gFAaZ8Q6yhQenIuHgwG70oaTPEcYqwyXRUF863BnU3w0Y6-e6wQFWN2IpGXs9VDGfGp_8VEw2CA6nLvPxnzOTEOr_niZiyb7zlgi9VEgkBgROKMiov8ud_jXiOZul/s1600/'An+Educated+Lady'+from+Eglwyswrw0001.jpg" height="320" width="219" /></a>Sarah Anne (or 'Sal' as she was known to friends), passed away suddenly on 4th April 1964 - today marks the eve of the 50th anniversary of that sad day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcX3QzbUOVSBEjrMt6KBzwjLC3FaI5i6ZPByC1n4mgcgUS7vDSqkpOiS20CX1JoJ0RiLe9hKFLRwRBTn_r21B2vNxXiKgZZvjy7OmW-4LF1ufjQqnae3TMqvkpAqYpYZNpLXnehX8Qw5l1/s1600/%2527An+Educated+Lady%2527+from+Eglwyswrw0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcX3QzbUOVSBEjrMt6KBzwjLC3FaI5i6ZPByC1n4mgcgUS7vDSqkpOiS20CX1JoJ0RiLe9hKFLRwRBTn_r21B2vNxXiKgZZvjy7OmW-4LF1ufjQqnae3TMqvkpAqYpYZNpLXnehX8Qw5l1/s1600/%2527An+Educated+Lady%2527+from+Eglwyswrw0002.jpg" height="320" width="209" /></a>I never knew my grandmother (having been born in 1982 myself) but relatively recent family discoveries have shone a light on a rather incredible life.<br />
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It was a life that stretched far beyond the boundaries of the community where she was born and in which she would return to marry and nurture a young family. It was a life that her own children knew next to nothing about until over 30 years after her death. It is one that deserves the recognition of a wider audience.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKB1SOzU5mq5j0xpuguBZv8Uonah5yYYzXt3hLcFyug8nW96Q07XjLjb4Ddwr93vU4ac8dWQZ5sV6dMz0bO7xIrJhEQ2BhHhzUJwqLM95wOpHclWydzHbZk5XUJcBahjbYZeDLu0rf0eA5/s1600/%2527An+Educated+Lady%2527+from+Eglwyswrw0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKB1SOzU5mq5j0xpuguBZv8Uonah5yYYzXt3hLcFyug8nW96Q07XjLjb4Ddwr93vU4ac8dWQZ5sV6dMz0bO7xIrJhEQ2BhHhzUJwqLM95wOpHclWydzHbZk5XUJcBahjbYZeDLu0rf0eA5/s1600/%2527An+Educated+Lady%2527+from+Eglwyswrw0003.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a>I am therefore incredibly grateful to Keith Johnson, the editor of the popular <i>'Pembrokeshire Life'</i> Magazine for publishing my 1,500 word article along with illustrative photos and historical documents on Sarah Anne's life in this month's April edition in time for this poignant anniversary.<br />
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It is the second time that he has published an article of mine in the space of 6 months and I sincerely thank him for that.<br />
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I publish here then, this most recent three page article and in so doing, pay my respects to a woman I never met but to whom I have great affection and to whom I owe a great deal.<br />
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Cysga'n dawel Mamgu.<br />
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<br />Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-66374682736221046902013-10-29T17:00:00.000+00:002013-10-29T17:25:00.015+00:00Wearing a Wedding RingApologies for the lack of attention to this blog of late but work and personal commitments have well and truly taken over.<br />
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Primarily of course was the big day last month when Alyson and I wed at Cardigan's Guildhall.<br />
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It was a beautiful day and the fine weather was only bettered by the wonderful company of family and close friends as Alyson and I made the marital leap after nearly 4 years together.<br />
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The Guildhall was a magnificent venue and gave us ample room for 120 guests. The order of ceremony was I would like to think, unique! As a civil ceremony, no hymns or prayers were allowed so we opted for poems in Welsh and English and some memorable songs for the congregation to sing - ABBA's <i>'I Have A Dream'</i> and to close, Morecambe & Wise's <i>'Bring Me Sunshine'</i>!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd9ip0YM6fx1zvFiooeArSS6WgnXqMfIGr3X0fC4-ntIH6ItOfDiq07-SASSbEdI7H2YHftL_Jp_sLcCshrLyGuecXODtKsZBkXbGntvsxNz8taotx8HQkTQSQucZ6kOLcxus9xD0vAh4-/s1600/Mark,+Alyson+Wedding+&+Santes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd9ip0YM6fx1zvFiooeArSS6WgnXqMfIGr3X0fC4-ntIH6ItOfDiq07-SASSbEdI7H2YHftL_Jp_sLcCshrLyGuecXODtKsZBkXbGntvsxNz8taotx8HQkTQSQucZ6kOLcxus9xD0vAh4-/s320/Mark,+Alyson+Wedding+&+Santes.jpg" width="230" /></a>We were greeted on our exit after the ceremony in the Guildhall Courtyard by a throng of well-wishers and Santes the Shire Horse from the family's Dyfed Shire Horse Farm. She stood perfectly still for 45 minutes as photos were expertly taken by Helen E. Davies and Tracey Rees (and many others!) before she led us both through Cardigan town centre.<br />
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The wedding breakfast and evening party was held at Nantyffin in Llandissilio and it was great fun! The welcome and the homely food was everything locals have come to expect of this popular venue. Carwyn Tywyn welcomed guests with his Harp and in the evening after everyone had ate and the speeches had been delivered (no problem for me but then I had to take the embarrassment from Best Woman Liz!), Alyson and I arrived at the dance floor to a triple-medley first dance - the anthemic <i>'Also Sprach Zarathustra' </i>by Richard Strauss brought us to the floor ready for Elvis Presley's <i>'The Wonder of You' </i>before we then upped the tempo with Sham Rock's <i>'Tell Me Ma'</i>!<br />
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Meanwhile, for those not so keen on the 60s/70s/80s/90s wedding party disco, we had in the foyer running all evening, some of Dad's old farm videos that he had filmed and edited, so even in his absence 10 years on, we could still hear his voice on my big day. It was a popular draw with many Eglwyswrw residents who were making to leave at 10.30pm still sitting down on the sofas in the foyer nearing midnight! Also, I gather Emyr our security doorman was also a fan!<br />
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<b>Honeymoon!</b><br />
With a week's break to relax after what was a perfect wedding day for us both, we went to New York and Washington DC for a 10-day Honeymoon. I had visited New York before but saw so much more this time. My visit to DC meanwhile was a first and I adored it. For Alyson, America in its entirety was a new experience and she had a great time too!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKAhYPWrFFZBB2jdGDp_ggMZl2FxISxZIxYk5rS_1oui3n48xQwunR8rp2FHUPL9k6aytSYR0Ajol08r0AdFckkdaJS3HvNlG4V3SNC3tA4hwambBbH7VmsL7Y-m0skDyZyFlbsYV7QTwm/s1600/280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKAhYPWrFFZBB2jdGDp_ggMZl2FxISxZIxYk5rS_1oui3n48xQwunR8rp2FHUPL9k6aytSYR0Ajol08r0AdFckkdaJS3HvNlG4V3SNC3tA4hwambBbH7VmsL7Y-m0skDyZyFlbsYV7QTwm/s320/280.JPG" width="320" /></a>We stayed in Downtown New York within just 2 blocks of Wall St and the World Trade Centre complex whilst in DC, we stayed on 14th St overlooking Franklin Square - just 4 blocks away from the White House. Good planning Coley!<br />
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A wonderful holiday finished with cocktails at sunset in the roof-top bar of Washington's <i>'W' </i>Hotel overlooking President Barack Obama's official residence in the company of my 3rd cousin Lauren and her husband Antony whose local knowledge guided us to that wonderful venue! Brilliant!<br />
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We would like to sincerely thank everyone for their best wishes and greetings of great joy for us both.<br />
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As for the wedding ring? For one that has never worn or been keen on jewelry of any kind, I've taken to it like a duck to water!Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-5326973272595183262013-08-15T21:48:00.000+01:002013-08-15T21:48:23.527+01:00A love of Roy Orbison...and George Harrison...and Neil DiamondAnyone who knows me, knows that I am fanatical about my music. Indeed, any regular reader of this blog will have struggled to have failed to notice the many blog posts dedicated to my musical loves.<br />
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But what I find amazing about my musical life odyssey is that every so often, I'm introduced to an old sound that suddenly grows on me. Often I have found myself listening to music that I had long derided for not being to my musical pallet to find all of a sudden, out of the blue...that actually, it's bloody brilliant!<br />
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It has happened before. There was a time when I actively detested the Bee Gees. In particular, their single <i>'You Win Again'</i> deeply grated with me every time I heard it. What happened and when I can't recall but as time moved on and my musical tastes mellowed I suddenly found myself appreciating the Brothers Gibb and yes...my favourite Bee Gees song is <i>'You Win Again'</i>. I couldn't make it up.<br />
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<b>Arise Neil Diamond</b><br />
In recent months, I have similarly found the revelatory road to Damascus with the music of Neil Diamond. Don't get me wrong, <i>'Sweet Caroline' </i>is and always will be a dance-floor and karaoke hit but until recent months, I never gave him the light of day beyond that. But now I must admit to being a bona-fide fan and hear are a mere few samples of his musical genius...<br />
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From 1970...<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/s6FfjlxZLTk" width="420"></iframe><br />
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From 1976...<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/_Y-gr6ghEwg" width="420"></iframe><br />
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<b>Arise George Harrison</b><br />
My love of Roy Orbison is already well documented. Indeed, he easily makes my highest list of pop artistes alongside Elvis, Freddie Mercury and Johnny Cash.<br />
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What I loved with <i>'The Big O' </i>was that his talent clearly transcended down the generations and was appreciated by those who came after him. So clearly was this the case that in the late 1980s, the super-group <i>'The Travelling Wilburys'</i> was formed by Bob Dylan, George Harrison, Jeff Lynne and Tom Petty...oh and of course, Roy Orbison himself.<br />
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The great heartbreak to the story is that just weeks after their first album was released to popular acclaim on 18th October 1988, Roy died of a heart attack on December 6th. The band continued and released a second album in October 1990.<br />
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Amidst everything, the band put together some wonderful music and at the heart of it was George Harrison. I'll admit now to being one of those that has underestimated the '3rd Beatle' in his post-Beatles 1970+ solo career and yet I've always had a soft spot for a number of his solo efforts. But only in recent weeks and months has that become more than a fleeting appreciation.<br />
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What sealed it was when I came full circle and realised to my amazement that a song that I had heard on a handful of previous occasions but which had instantly resonated brought me back to the <i>'Travelling Wilburys'</i>. I instantly recognised the lead vocal as being that of Harrison and when I investigated further, found that the single was not his but in fact, that of this super-group.<br />
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<i>'End of the Line'</i> is a gorgeous song but what grabbed me was the video when the haunting vocal of Roy Orbison came back from the grave mid-way through the song. As it did, the band filmed the video to show in tribute, a picture frame of the man himself and alongside them, a rocking chair rocking away with <i>'The Big O's' </i>guitar sitting on it.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/cwqhdRs4jyA" width="560"></iframe><br />
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That got me and it simply moved George Harrison up into that select group of musicians that I love...which of course includes Roy Orbison himself (and also as it happens...Jeff Lynne!).Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-29060246653779067602013-07-09T22:14:00.000+01:002013-07-09T22:14:05.668+01:00Guest Blog: Happy Birthday Tom Hanks!I have been approached many times by requests to write guest posts for my blog but this time, I've agreed.<br />
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The request came from Chicago to celebrate the birthday today of a screen icon, Tom Hanks. I'm happy to allow Spencer Blohm to contribute in this way below as I have always had a particular soft spot for Tom Hanks. Not only has he played iconic roles in films that spanned my childhood and adolescence, but he also, quite marvelously...an Aston Villa fan!!<br />
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So, take it away Spencer...<br />
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<span lang="EN-US">When Tom Hanks comes to mind so do the many
iconic characters he has portrayed over his more than 30 year long career. The
man has proven to be talented and versatile with roles as legendary as Forrest
Gump to voice work as clever as Woody the Cowboy from Toy Story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Hanks’ film career started in 1980 with a
low-budget movie called He Knows You're Alone. Hanks moved to New York City to
be a part of the film. Not long after this Hanks was able to get his first
leading role on a television show called Bosom Buddies. Unfortunately his first
big show was cancelled after only two seasons in 1982. Tom's first big
breakthrough in movies took place two years later in Splash, a box office smash
directed by Ron Howard. This success led to more offers for bigger roles and
Hanks’ career started into its upward trajectory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">On December 14, 1985 Hanks was honored to
host Saturday Night Live for the first time (he would eventually go on to host
the show seven more times and make two surprise guest appearances). Continuing
on with the comedy gold, Hanks landed the lead role in the smash hit Big in
1988. The film, which established Hanks as a major talent in Hollywood, remains
a favorite of many fans to this day. Hanks won a number of awards for his role
in Big, including the Golden Globe for Best Actor in a Musical or Comedy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Hanks began to step into more serious roles
as time went on, and he was very successful in them, eventually shedding his
comedic image and becoming known instead as a “serious” actor. The 90s were some
of Hanks's best years, and this is when he began to collect a string of awards
for films A League of Their Own, Philadelphia, Forrest Gump, Saving Private
Ryan, and Apollo 13. Possibly his most well-known film, Forrest Gump and its
titular character are both major pop culture icons to this day. The film even
spawned the restaurant chain “Bubba Gump Shrimp Company”, named after a
fictional business. Hanks wasn’t the initial choice for the role. Actors Bill
Murray, John Travolta, and Chevy Chase all passed on the role. Travolta even
admits passing on the role was a mistake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">After the huge success of Forrest Gump,
Hanks was reunited with the director that gave him his big break. Ron Howard’s
Apollo 13 was another box office winner. In addition to being a critical
success, the film also allowed Hanks to explore his childhood dream of being an
astronaut. Hanks claims he gave up the dream because he “didn’t have the math,”
but the truth is that Hanks is simply too tall to be an astronaut (he’s 6’1”
and the cut off is 6’). Following his
major dramatic successes, Tom made the unlikely move to children’s animated
films in 1995. He has provided the voice for Woody in the Toy Story franchise
for 18 years, helping to establish a whole new fan base with the younger generations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">More recently Hanks was in Cloud Atlas,
which came out in late October of last year. Hanks also portrays Walt Disney in
Saving Mr. Banks, which is scheduled to
come out later this year right around Walt Disney’s birthday and the
anniversary of his death in December. Continuing with his past successes, Hanks
will once again play the lead in a true story that was a front-page news item
at the time when he plays Captain Richard Phillips in Captain Phillips. The
film is about the 2009 hijacking by Somali pirates of the US-flagged MV Maersk
Alabama, the first American cargo ship to be hijacked in two hundred years. The
film will also come out later this year in October. There have also been rumors
of a Toy Story 4 although little has been confirmed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Hanks has grown from a small-time comedic
actor into an Oscar-winning leading man right in front of America’s eyes. His
talent has entertained viewers and inspired up and coming actors for the past
three decades and it doesn’t look like he is going anywhere anytime soon. Happy
Birthday, Tom Hanks!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Author Bio: Spencer Blohm is a television
and movie writer for <a href="http://www.direct4tv.com/">Direct4TV.com</a> who
writes about everything from new releases to classics from early days of
cinema. He has been a huge fan of Tom Hanks since Forrest Gump. He lives in
Chicago with his cat.Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-3534153532882252252013-07-07T18:23:00.001+01:002013-07-07T18:23:43.739+01:00The greatest British sporting weekend?!I have mentioned the long wait for a British Wimbledon champion in this blog many times.<div>
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I also <a href="http://johnmarkcole.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/we-just-won-olympics-my-2012-top-10.html">mentioned last December</a> how 2012 was surely the greatest year for British sport and that it will surely never be repeated.</div>
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Well this weekend, Andy Murray's spell-binding straight sets final win followed barely 24 hours after a famous Lions Test Series win in Australia.</div>
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After a 77 year-long wait since Fred Perry's win in 1936, I suppose we couldn't begrudge a few more minutes of delay when Andy failed to convert his first 3 Championship points and then had to fight off break points for his great rival.</div>
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But what a delay! The thought that having pulled himself to the brink of history, he may lose his service game was just beyond thought. Would he lose the game and then possibly the set and be sucked into a war of attrition with Djokovic?</div>
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I screamed and I shed tears of joy, particularly when he climbed to reach his supporters and gave his mother Judy a hug.</div>
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The current US Open Champion and Olympic tennis singles champion will be a shoe-in for the BBCs Sports Personality of the Year award and is now being hotly tipped for a Knighthood.</div>
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The Lions also rose to the occasion as they ran riot in the 2nd half of their deciding rubber against Australia to win 41-16 to seal a first series win in 16 years.</div>
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Heroes they are one and all and their names will go down in the pantheon of great British sporting moments. The fact that both of these results have occurred over the same weekend is quite incredible.</div>
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The greatest weekend in the history of British sport? It's right up there!</div>
Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4357499775964821963.post-64303465964126994302013-05-20T20:02:00.000+01:002013-05-20T20:46:40.098+01:00The Eagle Has Landed! My 13,000ft Sky Dive Experience...It was a gorgeously sunny and calm day yesterday afternoon on the south west coast of Wales. 13,000ft above sea level, somewhere above Swansea Airport, I was sitting hunched up in a 'plane, ready to free-fall back to Earth!<br />
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As I have mentioned already in this blog, I was doing it to raise money to buy defibrillators for our rural communities here in mid-Wales as a part of the British Heart Foundation Cymru's two-year £200,000 appeal.<br />
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I was also doing it in memory of my Dad Lance Cole who died 10 years ago next month and who survived open heart surgery when I was a child.<br />
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<strong>The Jump</strong><br />
As eagle-eyed viewers will have noticed, my jump had been postponed twice the previous weekend due to poor weather but this Sunday, it was thankfully, 3rd time lucky!<br />
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I arrived with Alyson at 4pm yesterday afternoon at Swansea Airport where we were joined by one of her best friends Sarah and also my brother Stephen, sister-in-law Anthea and their children Seren, Jacob and Mared who were on their way home to Pembrokeshire from a weekend in Cardiff. We were also latterly joined by good friends Nick Tregonning and Claire Waller. It was great to have them all support me and Alyson during the coming hour!<br />
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For on our arrival we were told that there would likely be a 45 minute wait until my turn to take instruction. This didn't worry me and I was quite happy to wait a while. Suddenly, within a matter of minutes, the public announcement system called 'John Cole' back to reception to say that they could squeeze me on the next flight!!<br />
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So it was that I was given a crash-course in everything I needed to know (which, because I was doing it tandem with a qualified instructor, wasn't much!) and within half an hour of arriving on site, I was jumping into the 'plane with another 3 'students' and their instructors!<br />
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It was a leisurely, relaxed ascent to the spectacular height of 13,000ft where, because of the beautiful weather, we could see right across Swansea Bay. It was a majestic setting.<br />
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So how did I feel? Well for one who isn't keen on heights, surprisingly relaxed...up to a point! The whole thought of being thrown out at that height wasn't worrying me all that much. What? How come you ask?! Well because in my own head I had long prepared myself for it by suspending the reality of the situation and exchanging it with the logical reality of what was about to happen. I had at the forefront of my mind of course the memory of my Dad and also the hundreds of people who have so generously donated to my appeal to see me thrown out in the first place! <em>So backing out was not and indeed was never an option.</em> So in that regard, I already knew I was going to do it and it was just a matter of getting my head into a place of ease with what was about to happen.<br />
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Yet whilst throwing yourself out of a plane isn't a normal every day occurrence (unless you were my instructor Mick who answered my question in the 'plane of his experience with the throw away response that he had done <em>"over 3,000 jumps"</em>!!), I just logically moved myself to the place which said that for these experts, it actually really was. There are normally it turns out between 20-40 jumps a day each weekend in Swansea when the weather allows and I've never heard of one there having gone wrong! Indeed, a friend who sponsored me who had himself Sky Dive'd before told me that he was told on his day that the safest thing statistically that he would do that day was the jump - he was more likely to have an accident on the road getting to or from the airport or in the plane on the way up, than he was on the descent! For a logically minded chap like myself, these were good statistics!<br />
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So it all helped me to prepare myself for what was to happen and to allow myself, as much as possible, to enjoy the ride without becoming over-run by a complete fear and panic on lift-off!<br />
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The only issue I did have as I was waiting to leave the 'plane at 12,000ft, were to remember the hastily arrranged instructions that I had been told just minutes earlier on the ground. <em>'Head back, chest out, legs back and crossed at the knees...like a banana'</em>. Oh, and when tapped on the shoulder by instructor Mick, to let go of the straps and to wave to the camera!! Easy hey!!<br />
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Thankfully, the logical side of my brain kept the thought of panic in check and on being hauled out to the edge (and just to compound matters, as well as being the last into the 'plane, I was the first out!!), I just readied myself to remember these few basic, simples instructions.<br />
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<strong>The Free-Fall</strong><br />
The free-fall was surreal! We were apparently dropping for some 40 seconds without a parachute at the rate of 125mph. It was going so quickly that I almost couldn't take in the enormity of the numbers. It's like flying in a plane at 30,000ft when you know that you're travelling at around 600mph but because everything is so far below you, it feels as if you are serenely gliding across the sky!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>The Sky's the Limit!</b></td></tr>
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The rush was incredible but I was indeed able as instructed to enjoy the fall, lift my head up and wave and <em>'thumbs up' </em>to Ant our similarly free-falling camera-man!!<br />
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Then at around 6,000ft, the parachute was deployed and it was quite a <em>'pull-back'</em>. Then all-of-a-sudden, we were just floating down gently on what light wind there was back down to Earth. Mick did some turns which gave a great panoramic of the wonderful Gower Peninsula and I could just take it all in after the rush of the free-fall, before we made a perfect landing (with my legs hitched up high to allow Mick to take the hit as instructed!).<br />
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It was over so quickly. Indeed, when I landed and met up with everyone who had to come to watch, I found to my amazement that it was only 4.50pm! It had all been done and dusted in less than one hour!<br />
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<strong></strong>Would I do it again?! Oh come on folks...hell yeah I would! But having said that, I'm not one to push my luck and will happily give others an opportunity to go first before I go again!<br />
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<strong>The Fundraising</strong><br />
But what it all meant was that everyone who has so kindly sponsored me to the tune of over £4,200 (which rises to over £4,700 including Gift Aid), have indeed got what they paid for! Indeed, I'm told by Ant that he has some 70 still photos of the fall as well as the filmed DVD which I paid for. They will all be sent to me in the post hopefully by this weekend but in the meantime he has sent me this one photo that you can see here. Not the most flattering photo in the world maybe - but when you're flying at 13,000ft, some things just have to be taken on the chin!!<br />
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Thank you most sincerely to everyone who has donated so far and if you haven't yet done so (or indeed, are happy to do so again as many have!) then please donate here at the link below to help me reach a final grand total of £5,000 before I close the appeal on Friday 7th June.<br />
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<a href="http://www.justgiving.com/John-Mark-Cole">http://www.justgiving.com/John-Mark-Cole</a>Mark Colehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17030479655275524928noreply@blogger.com0