It was very strange meeting this chap as he knew my grandad, a privilege I never had as my grandad died before I was born. In fact this chap was in the Hardwick the night my grandad died. Apparently my grandad had donned his bowler hat, he always wore his bowler hat, (I’ve got old photos of him wearing it too) left the pub and was knocked down crossing Middle Street. In them days there weren’t many lights at night and there was certainly no crossing. He was dragged quite a distance and died instantly. The only story I remember my dad telling me about him was that he had a stone laid with his name on when the Aged Miners homes were built. Unfortunately most of the stones have worn away now so I’ll never know which one and why.