Parker’s Parkers

by Billy Parker

As I sit and think of the times gone o’er

My Pits and Pit Lads come to the fore

How we worked and strived and played together

Each doing his bit and helping the other.

I’d thirty years run, off and on you know

Before heart attacks did bring me low

I couldn’t work then as I’d always done

I’d none to follow me and thus carry on.

I look back and remember the Pits we sank

All around the area we drew coals to Bank

We’d Opencasts too to help things along

We rained coal out too, be it right or wrong

From twelve to six feet seams did run

My lads made it look easy and still had their fun

On top of their work you remember them well

Jackie Dunn, Lancy Baker, the Knightons and Ted,

Tommy Davies, Frank Toppin, to quote just a few

There were dozens more men all good and true

The lads on the Bankhead were just as keen

Johnny Hindmarch and Elijah and the rest of the team.

The putters were key men, they were hard and tough

Lads to be proud of, their work was rough

Harry Wilson, Tot Watson and a good many more

Young men in their prime with strength galore.

Jack Caile, Geordie Middleton, a film star in looks

With blonde curly hair like the picture books

He walked to work from his home far away

The villages en route he passed through each day.

But one day he was missing and none knew where

As he’d left home early in the morning debonair

But he didn’t arrive for three days after that

And he wouldn’t say owt, just a grin and a laugh.

It came out in the wash after quite a while

He’d dropped into a house where a newly made bride

Was deserted by husband in anger and gall

George just dropped in right, pit-claes an all.

Those times were tough, you had to be stern

From some things essential you dare not turn

Clean coal was the watchword, it had to be good

If you didn’t supply it, then others would.

You tried your best the Pits to make safe

And succeeded quite well as records do state

But you’d Pit-men to deal with and not school bairns

And some of their tricks got you quite alarmed.

Like ‘Slasher’ on night shift arrived at the Pit

As drunk as a Lord and clearly unfit

But they trammed him in bye and sat him on’t cracket

Next morning he’d filled tubs, quite a packet!

You remember quite well the days you took leg

You hired a bus and the Pits they were dead

Your lads at the Lakes enjoying the sun

You went for a ride and also had fun

Cause when they got warm the banter did hum.

Nowt wrong you gather, just light hearted chaff

The waitress in stitches through curbing the laugh

But I always remember one time it occurred

Spragger Raine got a cheese from the helpless bird.

We put paid to cheese at Brough Hill Town

Good Wensleydale cheese with beer washed down

We finished up there after all our days out

The lads had a session with beer and stout.

The music did flow, each gave us a song

Spragger Raine on the piano vamping manfully on

The Knightons could sing you a wonderful tune

George Wardle was there and gave a good turn.

Then Jimmy the deaf lad would have a go

He’d a right to a hearing, he’d let you know

Then Burlington Berty would ring out to the door

But Jimmy was tight and finished up on the floor.

You arrived back sometime, you couldn’t care less

Next morn at the Pit, you just made a guess

But one or two there were just sitting around

Just holding their heads and not making a sound.

"Gan hame man to bed and sleep till the night"

You’d tell him you’d see the money alright

"No fear," he’d say, "I’ll not gan back there!"

You could see from his eye there’d been a cold war.

And so till the next trip to the same old place

The lads did their stuff and then had a break

It was a pleasure to know them and help them along

The best time of your life, you couldn’t go wrong.

There’s just a few left who remember those trips

Getting fewer and fewer as each year flips

It all comes back when you meet one or two

And stay for a chat and a how do you do.

It won’t last long now and then the end

Life’s just for a time, you comprehend

You’re here for a while, do what good you can

To improve the lot of the working man.

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