Apologies about the shadow in the corner of this picture, which I don't have time to clip right now, but then it is a little appropriate because there is a shadow that hangs over the location. Newtongrange, once the location of not one but two collieries which are now the bedrock of The Scottish Coal Mining Museum. There is no industry anymore, at least not much to write about and as my old friend Alex Sharp told me, its now a dormitory town. And this is what has become of one of the pit wheels. For those who don't know, these things used to turn four times a day, after the pit hooter sounded. The day shift, men down the pit first thing in the morning, bringing back the night shift on the returning journey, and so on all day, back shift down day, shift up, night shift down, back shift up (although if the hooter sounded at the wrong time and there was an extra journey the whole village would know there was possibly an accident. Those were the worst days and the wives would stand around waiting to find out if it was their man (men). If anyone has read The Odour of Chrysanthemums by D. H. Lawrence, you might get some idea. But in those days, Newtongrange (Nitten as it was named locally) was buzzing with life, Newtongrange Star, the football club, the Miner's Welfare Club, The British Legion, Nitten Institute, The Bottom Shop and of course The Dean (the only village owned pub in Scotland), the Gala Day in Nitten Park. This isn't nostalgia, it was a different life and I don't really miss it, but it was the life I grew up with and made me as I am now, which is ever grateful. But we played music just like in this clip - Happy Saturday:
