One year heavy rains fell on Wales, I mean heavier than the usual incessant heavy rains. I was staying with my Auntie Kitty & Uncle Maurice and that morning when I looked out of the window towards the shops, my eyes registered something which my brain could not interpret. "It's a flood!" my Uncle said, knocking his pipe against the fireplace. " The river Taff has burst its banks !" I got my bike and ran to the door, refusing to listen to anyone's appeal for calm. I started cycling towards our house and the water got deeper as the slope towards the front of Gabalfa Estate became more pronounced.
I passed people waving from the upstairs window as I waded waist-high, pushing my bike through the dirty, muddy water.
When I got to our street, the water was almost around my shoulders and I felt really embarressed as I passed the neighbours, and as a power-boat washed passed me up the street.
I won't repeat the language my father used when he saw me, my only suit drenched through.
The event made headlines, and many people turned out to help clean up the estate and help get lives back to normal. Seminary students from St.Michael's College, Llandaff came and scrubbed and cleaned away the mud and the coal dust from the river.
And there were generous contributions to buy new furniture and furnishings.
When it was all over, our next door neighbour was hanging out her washing and talking about "The Flood", and couldn't help boasting how much of a donation they had received to replace their things ruined by the deluge. When she heard what my father had been paid she stopped her clothes-pegging, and said in a combination of shock and annoyance : " But, you didn't have anything in there ! You hadn't a thing !" Which was to a large extent true. A boy from school had come to collect me one day, and when he came in he said : "Where's everything ? - Where's all your stuff ? You don't have much here." It hadn't occurred to me til then that a ripped rexine settee ( sofa) and lino on the floor, and an early discard period dining table and chairs and a black and white television didn't constitute "much".
It was only a flood. Like a forewarning of the tragedy which was to hit Wales a few years later.
I passed people waving from the upstairs window as I waded waist-high, pushing my bike through the dirty, muddy water.
When I got to our street, the water was almost around my shoulders and I felt really embarressed as I passed the neighbours, and as a power-boat washed passed me up the street.
I won't repeat the language my father used when he saw me, my only suit drenched through.
The event made headlines, and many people turned out to help clean up the estate and help get lives back to normal. Seminary students from St.Michael's College, Llandaff came and scrubbed and cleaned away the mud and the coal dust from the river.
And there were generous contributions to buy new furniture and furnishings.
When it was all over, our next door neighbour was hanging out her washing and talking about "The Flood", and couldn't help boasting how much of a donation they had received to replace their things ruined by the deluge. When she heard what my father had been paid she stopped her clothes-pegging, and said in a combination of shock and annoyance : " But, you didn't have anything in there ! You hadn't a thing !" Which was to a large extent true. A boy from school had come to collect me one day, and when he came in he said : "Where's everything ? - Where's all your stuff ? You don't have much here." It hadn't occurred to me til then that a ripped rexine settee ( sofa) and lino on the floor, and an early discard period dining table and chairs and a black and white television didn't constitute "much".
It was only a flood. Like a forewarning of the tragedy which was to hit Wales a few years later.
posted by Louie at 9:56 AM
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