Close-up view of burning wood in a fireplace in winter.

Close-up view of burning wood in a fireplace in winter.   Getty image.

Fierce bombing started over again and I was evacuated a second time with the school group to Llanerchymedd, Anglesy, North Wales.

My foster parents were the Prichards who lived at Berthwn, Bridge Street.  Mr. Prichard was a miner and they lived rather modestly as blue collar workers.  The house was not large but they did take me and my friend, Reggie, to live with them.  From their house we could see the flashes from the explosions and anti-aircraft guns in Liverpool.  Reggie was not there long because he was a bed wetter, so he was sent home.

Mr. Prichard’s name was Hugh; I don’t remember hers.  They had a son, John, who also worked the slate/rock mines.  He was exempt from armed service because of a hand injury he had received in the mines.

School was much like before where Liverpool teachers held classes in church facilities.  Mr. Eaves, my headmaster from former years came with the group.  This is the same Mr. Eaves who gave me swats back in Liverpool a couple years before this.  I sometimes hung out with a neer-do-well.  One day we were shoplifting some items from a Woolworth’s 5 and 10.  The police caught us and we were taken to court.  The headmaster, Mr. Eaves, liked me, so he came to rescue us.  We were just young kids so the matter was not pursued.

There were so many students, they divided us into morning classes and afternoon classes.  One day a student became angry with the teacher and stood up using foul language at her.  He was immediately sent back to Liverpool.  I was astonished at his disrespect for her, especially because she was so nice.

I must have been in morning class because I remember fondly my days of roaming the Welsh hillsides.  Mr. Pritchard had ferrets and hunting dogs with which he would hunt rabbits.  I participated in that venture.  We would put the ferret in a rabbit hole where it would fight and kill a rabbit.  Other rabbits would flee from escape holes.  Mr. Pritchard killed them to sell in a meat market in Liverpool.  I think the company was Petty and Sons.  He gutted them out; he didn’t skin.  I used to do that myself but sold my in the village for two shillings a couple.  That was my spending money.

In the evening, Mrs. Pritchard would go down to the pub and bring back a beer for Mr. Prichard and a Shandy (a soft drink) for me.  We would sit in front of the fire and eat the roasted rabbit.

There was a thug after me.  He was a bully who harassed me.  One day he came to my house and the Prichards made me go fight him.  I don’t know what happened except that I got some bloody knuckles.  He didn’t bother me after that.

The Prichards spoke Welsh; consequently I learned some Welsh during my stay there.  I now entertain my grandchildren with “Sospan Fach” in Welsh.  Our version in English:

The hand of Mary Ann was hurting,
And David in the straw making hay.
The baby in the cradle is crying,
And the cat has scratched little Johnny.
A little saucepan is boiling on the fire,
A big saucepan is boiling on the hearth,
And the cat has scratched little Johnny.

The had me learn scriptures and Welsh songs at the Welsh chapel for which I earned some prizes.  Gentle Jesus was one of the songs I remember.

The Prichard’s were quite nice to me and made me feel a part of their home.  I remember taking over John’s bed.  I don’t remember where he went.




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Getty images: WW 2 about 1940

The bombing became so intense in Liverpool some of the schools arranged for evacuation of students.  My school went to North Wales where the war damage was not so great. Stanley Robinson was the name of my friend who was going.  My older sister, Jean, made arrangements for me to go.  Many students, the teachers, and headmaster went together.  Classes were conducted in a church facility of some kind with the same teachers we had in Liverpool.

This evacuation seemed almost like a camping trip to me.  I was used to running off on my bicycle with a friend of mine on the crossbar and we would stay overnight in a tent where my brother had hidden it on a farm pasture just outside of Liverpool at West Kirby.  A meal we had on one of those night was cabbage leaves which we stole from a cabbage field.

So I got some things together in a pillow case with a few clothes and went to the railroad station a couple miles from my house.  I had a name tag on me.  An ammunition train was later blown up at that station.

We went by train to Llanbadden Fawr.  When we got off the train we unloaded into a church auditorium where we were told to pick up a palliasse (sack), take it to a haystack and fill it with hay.  Those were our beds for the night.  Next day volunteer “foster parents” came to take us home with them.  Stanley and I went together.

We went with the Dalton’s, a wealthy dentist who lived in a big house called Brookhouse.  The Dalton’s spoke English most of the time.  Stanley and I lived in a small cottage on the property; we ate with the maid in the big house.  They had elaborate gardens with a full time gardener.  They also had a maid, Lottie.   I caught a couple fish in a river there.  Lottie fried them for me.  I don’t know what I used to catch them.  Mr. Dalton liked to fish, but I was never invited to go with him.  He did catch a big salmon one time which we all ate together.  Mrs. Dalton used to send me to a store across the street for Pall Mall cigarettes for her.

They had two sons, Patrick and Michael and a daughter named Suzanne.  Patrick was exempted from the armed forces because he was the oldest son.  Michael was a 2nd Lt in the British Army; he was killed in the Invasion of Italy in the Strait of Merssina in Southern Italy.

Looking back I think we were rather pushed onto them.  They were just doing their duty.

My sisters, Jean and May, came to visit me one time.  The first time I used a telephone was at this house when Jean called to say they were coming to see me.

After about a year the bombing in Liverpool subsided.  We all went back to our homes in Liverpool.


I flew to England in the nineties and visited Wales.brookhouse  Brookhouse was still there.  Jean, Eric, Rhea, and I are pictured at the old place.  I was unaware of who owned the place after many years.  There was also a memorial to the son, Michael.


While we were there, we stopped at a hotel close to Brookhouse, and lo and behold, the owner there recognized me as being an evacuee as a boy back in the forties.  I was astonished at this.  She did not allow us to pay for what we had eaten.

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SAM’S STORY, part 2 – WAR

sam story telling

In 1939, as I played in the streets of Liverpool, an “Echo News” runner came down the street calling out, “War Declared! War Declared!”  Some months later the first bomb was dropped about half mile from our house.  Out of curiosity my family joined others as we went to look at the damage done.

During the day we could see the British planes called Spitfires attacking the Messerschmitt 109s in the Dogfights over Liverpool.  Anti-aircraft guns also engaged shooting at them.  The German planes were on reconnaissance taking pictures in order to find the strategic targets to bomb at night, resulting in civilian deaths also.

I still roamed the streets a lot watching from curiosity.  But when the air raid sirens sounded I would run home, even through shrapnel and flying debris.  The debris was dropping all over the place.

One night Tommy (my brother) and I were blown out of bed caused by a bomb that had exploded one block away.  Soot from the chimneys was blown everywhere.  We all gathered downstairs with soot-blackened faces and laughed at one another.

My dad was an air raid warden (ARP).  He was too old for the service; he was a veteran from World War One.  One night he was opening the front door and a blast from a bomb blew the door open onto his hand and dislocated one of his fingers.  He demanded, “In the name of Jesus, come back,” as he pulled his dislocated finger back into place.  He was quite a religious guy.  He was preaching at this time also.

My little sister, Esther, was a preschool child during all these war years. And my brother, Bob, was born during an air raid.   Mother lay on the floor downstairs while she was attended by a midwife.  Mom slept downstairs while my siblings and I retired to bed.  We would watch the flashes of the bombs exploding and anti-aircraft guns firing back at the aircraft.

My older brother, Tommy, was in the YOYLI (King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry) stationed at Leicestershire.  My sister, Jean, was also in the Army (ATS, Auxiliary Territorial Service).  They both came home periodically on leave.  My other sister, May, was too young for service.  She remained in Liverpool throughout the entire bombings and worked as a stenographer at the Royal Liver Building in Liverpool.


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sam story telling

My name is Samuel Hayes—no middle name.  I was lucky to get two names being born in the 1920’s during the depression.  My parents were Thomas and Florence Hayes, lowly shop owners in Liverpool, England.

My earliest memory was playing with my bother, John, outside my uncle’s house just off Netherfield Road in Liverpool.  John later died at Netherfield Hospital of pneumonia.  I was too young to feel the hurt, but oh, how it must have hurt my parent and older siblings!  My older siblings were Tommy, Jean,  and May.

My next memory was being taken home from elementary school by my sister, May, two years older than I.  We attended the same school, Netherfield Road Public School in Liverpool.

Later I went to Andfield Road School.  We had a woman teacher because the men had to go to war.  Her name was Mrs. Price.

One day we were going to a school game at a football field a couple miles away. We were walking two by two.  Our school had school uniforms that had a special tie.  I asked my friend “What do ships do when they come into port?” and he said, “What?”  I put my finger under his tie and flipped it up into his face and said, “Tie up.”  Mrs. Price considered that inappropriate and sent us back to school as a punishment.  So we didn’t get to play football at the field that day.

Instead of going directly back to school, we decided to go home for a cup of tea since we had plenty of time.  He went to his house; I went to my house.  I don’t remember what we told our mothers!   Having that tea break got us to school quite late.  We reported to the Headmaster, Mr. Eaves, who asked where we had been so long.  Our story was unacceptable!

Mr. Eaves decided to punish us with a bamboo cane, which was about a six-foot long.   He took us to a private classroom to execute the punishment, two strokes with the cane on the palm of each hand.  Before going in to get our punishment, we pulled a hair out of our heads and placed it on the palm of our hands which we thought would kill the pain.  That was a myth!

I was the first victim.  It really hurt but not too bad.  My friend, however, moved his hand so the cane missed and hit the leg of the Headmaster, which made him very angry.  “Hold your hand out, Son” is what he would say.  He moved his hand again so the Headmaster missed again.  After the two strokes were administered, the Headmaster took revenge by hitting my friend on the legs on his way out of the classroom.   He hip-hopped out of that room as fast as he could.  I know that must have really hurt.  The Headmaster was a good guy; he was just doing what he was supposed to do.  He was an injured veteran from World War One.


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sam oneta july 20

Aberystwyth of the Hinterland

In the hills of Wales

Gave safe harbor to an English lad   

Who lived to tell some tales.  

To celebrate his birthday on July 22, I will put this English lad’s story in the cloud this week. Each post will be a picture into a segment of his life – the childhood and teen years of the man who became my husband, Samuel Hayes.  Hope you will enjoy his story.  I think you will find his story interesting.  The series will consist of six posts.


Challenge by Sammi Cox for a submission using 87 words on the prompt “Hinterland.”

Posted in Hayes family, marriage, nostalgia, Story Telling, Uncategorized, war, World War 2 | Tagged , , , , | 6 Comments




ME:  Ah, Lord God.  You are so awesome, Creator of All!  I behold your wondrous works.  What joy I get from seeing your details for our design.  Ears protected by wax and hair; nose protected by hair; mouth which can be kept closed; eyes protected by lids and lashes.  — I wonder if camels have wax in their ears.

GOD: Go check google.  So I did. 

GOOGLE:  Camels have fur in ears; three eyelids, two rows of lashes; Nostrils can close.

Scientific Conclusion:

HA!!  Same source.  Humans and camels equipped with same natural protective capabilities – hair in ears, eye lids and lashes for eyes, lips to close mouth.  They both had to have come from some other animal and adapted to their environment!

God and I laugh.  😀 


Well, God did not say out loud to me to go check google, but the thought came from somewhere.  I’ll guarantee you I would not have ask google whether camels have wax in their ears as a part of my morning routine.

Posted in Creation, evolution, God speaks, God's provision, humor, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , | 16 Comments


Oneta 84

I seldom blush anymore.  In fact I rarely see anyone blush.  When I was young I did, so did others.  I remember asking how to pronounce “t-o-i-l-e-t”.  I blushed when I was told.  I was a good reader.  I don’t know to this day why I did not know the word.  I guess because we said “outhouse.”  To this day I still won’t tell you when and where I learned that word!  I would blush!

I’ve been reading Jeremiah.  God recounts many sins against Israel.

God is greatly disturbed at the “prophets and priests” who are not speaking truth, instead they are saying all is peace, peace.  He asks:

Jeremiah 6:15 “Were they ashamed because of the abomination they have done?
They were not even ashamed at all;
They did not even know how to blush.

God makes a mockery of the people who cut out a part of a tree trunk to make an idol, then burn the rest of it.  In my words I would say, “How stupid can you be! You think you can replace me with that little piece of wood that you whittle out to make some weird little statue? I would blush at such stupidity!”

Well, God does pretty much say that.  He basically says “ask your “Tinker toy” to help you.  I’m outta here.”

This 2020 year shows us how much good some of our toys/idols are to us.  And still many “prophets and priests” are saying “Peace, peace.”

We are finding out!!!


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Gods love

Love lavished on planet

Is a fingerprint from God

You are the paintbrush.


Haiku challenge by Ronovan.  Haiku using “finger” and “planet.”

Image: Pixabay

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Sarah opened the door and stopped in horror!  Everybody was gone.  She had been left.

Yesterday an EP Leader left a message.

“Arrangements made. Exact time unknown. Be prepared. You will have six minutes to meet Escape Patrol behind lilac hedge at Fifth Lane.”

She remembered dad’s words.

“Remember we must be ready,” he had said.

“But I’m out of ciggies.  I’ll only be about 20 minutes.  See you in a bit,” she had called back.

She crumbled in tears as she felt the hand of a uniformed man.  She turned.  She had nothing to offer except a carton of cigarettes.


Friday Fictioneers Challenge one hundred word story from picture prompt.

Image:  Photo Prompt @ A. Noni Mouse

Challenge by

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Oneta 84


You have invited Jesus in so he lives in you.

Revelation 3 :20 “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears
my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.”

With Jesus in you, you will want to live your life to please him.  (I’ll return to this at a later time.)

Romans 12:1 ” … offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God-this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

If/when you do sin, ask Jesus to forgive you.

I John 2: 1 My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense–Jesus, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice,~~ for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the whole world.             –

Jesus wants you to have a good life.

John 10:10 “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the fulL” (abundantly)

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