Glo - National Museum Wales

Sefydliad lles
A welfare organisation
Roedd yna rywun yn ffugio rhyw salwch neu’i
gilydd ym mhob glofa, ond yn Oakdale, roedd
gennym gryn dipyn o bobl hynod ddidwyll a
barhaodd i weithio er gwaethaf anafiadau neu
anhwylderau eraill gan gynnwys clefyd coronaidd y
galon a phroblemau’r frest oherwydd y dwst. Cafodd
dynion ag anhwylderau’r frest eu cynghori i osgoi
parhau i weithio dan amodau llychlyd, ond roeddynt
am wella eu safon byw. Roedd ganddynt blant yn y
brifysgol ac ati felly bydden nhw’n parhau i weithio
yn yr amodau hyn. Wrth gwrs, bydden nhw’n gorfod
rhoi’r gorau iddi ar unwaith heddiw, ond nid felly’r
oedd hi'r dyddiau hynny. Roedden ni’n arfer clywed
hanes teuluoedd y dynion drwy’r adeg. Doedd y
dynion hŷn byth yn trafod eu pryderon, roedd rhaid
iddyn nhw fod yn wrol fel dynion go iawn, ond roedd
y dynion iau yn rhannu’u gofidiau, yn enwedig os
oedd eu gwragedd yn dost. Roedden nhw’n dod i
eistedd wrthych chi a bwrw’u calonnau. Rwy’n mynd
yn grac iawn pan fydd pobl yn dweud nad yw dynion
yn gofidio – maen nhw, dy’n nhw ddim yn gwybod
sut i ddangos hynny, dyna’r cwbl.
Roedd y ganolfan feddygol yn debycach i
sefydliad lles na dim arall. Os oedd dyn yn yr ysbyty
gyda salwch difrifol, roedden ni’n mynd i’w weld ar
ôl iddo ddod gartre. Byddwn i’n gofyn a oedd e’n falch
o fod gartre, a oedd yn teimlo’n well, ac yna byddai ei
wraig yn cerdded gyda chi at y gât a byddech yn
gofyn, ‘Sut ydych chi’n teimlo?’. A byddai hi’n dweud,
‘A dweud y gwir Sister, dwi ofn cysgu’. ‘Pam?’ ‘Achos
yn yr ysbyty mae’r holl offer a chyfarpar ar gael petai
rhywbeth yn mynd o’i le, a dwi ar ben fy hunan fan
hyn ac yn ofni y bydde rhywbeth yn digwydd.’ Felly,
roeddwn i’n gorfod bod yn gefn ac yn gysur i’r wraig
a’r teulu hefyd. Roedd rhai o’r dynion yn poeni’u
henaid am eu plant a oedd yn sâl iawn a bydden
nhw’n dod aton ni am sgwrs fach. Doedd y dynion
hŷn ddim eisiau gwybod, ond roedd y rhai iau wastad
eisiau gwybod beth oedd yn digwydd, a beth oedd
modd ei wneud i wella’r sefyllfa.
Roedd un dyn a ddoi i’r ganolfan feddygol yn
ffeiarman, ac wedi magu ei frawd iau gan fod eu rhieni
wedi marw. Roedd y ddau’n gweithio yn y pwll, a dyma’r
brawd hŷn yn cerdded i mewn un diwrnod gan ddweud,
‘Oeddech chi’n gwybod Sister fod Dai ni wedi ’whare
dros Gymru?’ ‘Dofe wir? Jiw, mae’n rhaid bod hynny
wedi bod yn brofiad gwych iddo fe’, atebais. ‘O, oedd,
bendigedig.’ Gofynnais, ‘Es ti i weld e?’. ‘Do’, atebodd, ‘es
i lawr i’w weld e’. A dyma fi’n gofyn, ‘Shwt deimlad o’dd
i weld e’n rhedeg mas ar y cae?’ ‘Dim syniad Sister’,
atebodd, ‘weles i mohono fe’. ‘Beth ti’n feddwl weles ti
mohono fe?’ Ac meddai, ‘R’on i mor browd, bues i’n
llefen reit drwyddo!’ Wel, am chwerthin!
Pan gaeodd y glofeydd, aeth llawer o’r sisters
nyrsio i weithio mewn meddygfeydd, eraill i gartrefi
nyrsio preifat ac ati. Fe wnes i ymddeol. Roeddwn i’n
55 oed, ond cafodd fy ngŵr ei daro’n wael ac aethon
ni i fyw i’r Gorllewin. Ond merch y Cymoedd ydw i
o hyd! Roedd y diwydiant glo wedi ’nysgu i sefyll dros
yr hyn sy’n gyfiawn. Roeddwn i’n arfer mynd i’r
cyfarfodydd, a byddai’r dynion yn edrych arnoch chi
fel rhyw druan fach ddiniwed, ond roeddwn i’n
meddwl, ‘Meiddiwch chi bois, meiddiwch chi!’
Roeddwn i’n barod i sefyll yn gadarn yn erbyn y
rheolwyr a’r undebau.
Mrs Iris E. Evans
Sister O'Shea o Lofa St John’s (chwith), Harry
Harris, swyddog hyfforddi yn Oakdale a Mrs Iris
Evans ar fin mynd i lawr i Lofa Oakdale.
Sister O'Shea of St John’s Colliery (left), Harry
Harris training officer at Oakdale and Mrs Iris
Evans waiting to descend Oakdale Colliery.
Every colliery had people who put it on but in
Oakdale we had quite a few genuine people
who continued to work very hard in spite of
injuries or other ailments including coronaries and
chest problems due to working in dust. Men with
chest complaints were advised not to continue
working in dusty conditions but they wanted to
improve their standard of living. ey had
youngsters in university and things like that so they
would continue to work in these conditions.
Nowadays they would be stopped immediately but
they weren’t in those days. We used to hear all about
the men’s families. e older men never spoke about
their worries, they had to be very mannish, very
brave, but the younger generation did, especially if
their wives were ill. ey used to come and talk to
you about it and they’d just sit down and tell you their
worries. I get very angry when they say that men don’t
care, they care alright they just don’t know how to
express it.
e medical centre acted as a welfare organisation
as much as anything else. If a man was in hospital
with a serious illness we’d go to see him when he came
home. I’d ask him if he glad to be home, if he was
feeling better and then the wife would walk you to the
gate and you’d say, “How are you feeling?” And she’d
say, “To be honest Sister, I’m afraid to sleep.” “Why?”
“Because in hospital there’s all the equipment if
something goes wrong and now he’s home and I’m all
on my own and terrified that something will happen.”
So I would have to comfort the wife and family as
well. We had chaps who were very concerned about
their children who were very ill and they used to
come and chat about it. e older men didn’t want to
know but the younger ones wanted to know what was
going on and what could be done about it.
One chap who came into the medical centre was
a fireman and he had brought up his younger brother
because their parents had both died. e two of them
were working in the pit and the elder brother came
in one day and said to me, “Did you know Sister that
our Dai played for Wales?” “Did he? Well gosh that
must have been great for him” I answered. “Oh yes it
was wonderful.” I said, “Did you go and see him?”
“Yes” he said, “I went to see him”. I said, “How did
you feel like when you saw him running onto the
field?” “I don’t know Sister” he said, “I didn’t see him”.
“What do you mean you didn’t see him?” He said, “I
was so proud that I cried all the way through!” You’ve
got to laugh haven’t you?
When the collieries closed down a lot of nursing
sisters went into doctors’ surgeries, some of them
went into private nursing homes and things like that.
I just retired, I was 55 but my husband became ill and
we went to live in west Wales. However, you can take
the girl out of the Valleys but you can take the Valleys
out of the girl. Being in the mining industry taught
me to stand up for what I thought was right. I used
to go to meetings and the men there used to look at
you as a poor little woman coming in, but I used to
think “Try it boys, you try it!” I was willing to stand
up to both management and unions.
Mrs Iris E. Evans
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