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I was 6 years old and remember it well. I was wide-eyed as my mother couldn't open the back door of the house, so great was the weight of the accumulated snow. The front door opened, though, and I was out of there like a shot, hugely excited by the snow. I was wearing shorts, and mum yelled at me to get back in and get dressed properly.
Snowball fights, sleds, snowmen.
It was a rough time. People died. But for a kid, oh what a time.⛄️
61st anniversary surely
The coldest winter for 200 years and for a lad of 8 it came as a bit of a shock. We had only moved to Llanrumney from Adamsdown the year before and prior to that I'd only ever seen sleet.Originally Posted by jimmyscoular
On the morning of the snowfall I walked downstairs and noticed that halfway up the opaque window at the foot of stairs it was completely white. When I opened the front door I couldn't believe my eyes. Drifts of several feet blanketed the front garden but it was the shapes of buried cars that took my breath away. I too went out in short trousers and was in a lot of pain when the feeling returned. They don't make winters like that anymore !
Helping my father shovel the snow from the path.
Frozen milk in bottles
Sliding down the hill in Thompson s park on a piece of wood
Carrying shopping home from Canton for my mother
Frost on the inside of the bedroom windows
Clothes stiff and frozen hanging on the washing line
Chilblains from warming wet freezing feet in front of the fire
We didn’t have a television then so we had our updates from the radio
…but we were happy
Yes, I suppose so. Now that you mention it. The winter of 1962-63. Maths has never been my strong point, as Edgar Welch at St. Illtyd's would testify were that great maths genius still with us, and if he still remembered me, which is highly doubtful.
Llanrumney me, too. I don't remember much other than that amazing first morning and the snowball wars that followed. It must have been like an arctic exploration just making it up to the top shops. What did we kids know? Or care? It was a wonderland out there and mum made sure the hot porridge was in the bowl just the same as ever.
God bless her.
I remember as we had spent Xmas of 1962 at my grandparents in London and, on 29th Dec, my father’s birthday, we drove back to Cardiff in worsening weather in a 1946 Sunbeam Talbot and got back in about 11 hours. You also mention Edgar Welch, at that time an Edgar Welch lived over the road from me in Whitchurch. The same person I wonder ?
To my knowledge, what was amazing was the ferocity and duration of the winter wasn't even predicted. Heads would roll nowadays.
This is him:
Edgar Welch.jpg
I must admit it’s a long time ago and I can’t really remember what he looked like but him being a maths teacher rings a very faint bell
Storm name
Warnings to your phone
24/7 news about climate records
schools shut down
Transport shut down
Kay Burley dramatisation each night.
To end on a positive.
The Lycra clad brigade still being their annoying best.
Supermarket shelves completely empty a fortnight before the big fall predicted. Drakeford reduces the speed limit to 5mph in all built-up areas.
FFS! i'm way too young for this thread. But climate has changed. when i came to southern Sweden in the 80's it was ice and snow. The last 20 years it's been grey and rain
I was 8. lived in Garnlydan at the time - about as far up the Ebbw valley you could get.
Our house was end of terrace, there was a bit of side garden, then a high wall, the over the road was the school field.
The snow was whipped up in the gap between the garden wall and the side of the house, resulting in a drift that reached the roof!. When it froze, we dug a tunnel, big enough to walk thorough. The back gardens all had gates into a lane - we had to dig a trench inside the fence to stop the mountain ponies walking over looking for food.
The crazy thing was that the snow came down over Christmas/ New Year, lasted for ages, then when it finally melted away we got a second heavy fall!
Somehow, despite there being steep roads to get to the estate, the milk was always delivered(albeit frozen), and the shops always seemed to have food to buy, - and the school stayed open throughout!We were later given a a day off as reward, as one of only 3 schools in the county that did.
A few flakes these days and the whole country stops.
Think you’re a bit late it was beginning of ‘63
I can remember Edgar, chinning Brother Adrian, something to do with his own brother Paddy.
This was at the new St Illtyds not the proper school in splott.
My bad, his brother was Pedro, Paddy was Paddy Power the sports teacher
Yes. My innumeracy has already been pointed out
Unlikely to be two people by the name of Edgar Welch. He's probably your man.
Good story and a nice memory.I was 8. lived in Garnlydan at the time - about as far up the Ebbw valley you could get.
Our house was end of terrace, there was a bit of side garden, then a high wall, the over the road was the school field.
The snow was whipped up in the gap between the garden wall and the side of the house, resulting in a drift that reached the roof!. When it froze, we dug a tunnel, big enough to walk thorough. The back gardens all had gates into a lane - we had to dig a trench inside the fence to stop the mountain ponies walking over looking for food.
The crazy thing was that the snow came down over Christmas/ New Year, lasted for ages, then when it finally melted away we got a second heavy fall!
Somehow, despite there being steep roads to get to the estate, the milk was always delivered(albeit frozen), and the shops always seemed to have food to buy, - and the school stayed open throughout!
A few flakes these days and the whole country stops.
Of course it only takes a few flakes, regardless of the weather, to bring any country to a screeching halt.
The thing I most remember about that time was helping my Dad collect snow from the attic (yes, from inside the attic!) in buckets and passing them down through the trapdoor to my mother who emptied them out of the bedroom window! We lived in a typical Cynon valley terraced house on the side of the mountain and there was no felt under the slates, hence the wind had blown the snow into the attic. If we had left it, it would have thawed and brought the ceilings down - not ideal. The snow got mixed with the black dust that lined the attic floor (lathe and plaster ceilings of course) so not only was it very cold up there, it was a filthy job to boot!
😮 Scariest memory yet. How well I remember those council house attics with their ceiling trapdoors. Kid me used to be so impressed the way my dad lifted himself through the trapdoor hole. Had to be careful up there, though. No flooring. One wrong step and through the ceiling you went.
My parents got married on Boxing Day 1962. The pictures are crazy
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