I have started over again, This is my attempt at putting pen to paper to tell my story. I`m just an ordinary man, no better or not much different to anyone else. But I have enjoyed life and still do. My childhood, I would say was a very happy one overall. I had lots of freedom. Born in Chepstow, we lived in a very small house to start. My Father came down from, Sunderland with his Brother Jacob, They worked in the Ship yard up there, Both were riveters. So when Fairfield`s yard in Chepstow was declared, The first National Ship yard, they came to find work. Mother worked in the canteen there, so I guess that`s how they met. My earliest recollections was having a bath in front of the fire, a tin bath back then. We moved up to Bulwark when I was just 4 years old. Moving into a newly built council house. Four bedrooms, a luxury. plus a garden. At that time the building work was still going on, so to a little boy, standing down by our gate, seeing all this activity going on was something that would stay in my memory. Time to start school, I was 5 years old. I can remember it well. At the top of the road there was a newly built primary and infant school. That morning, Mother said, " come on David it`s time you go to School," so off we went, walking up the road, then crossing the main road that runs down through Bulwark,( that was the village were we lived.) then up a path behind, Watkins the builders workshops, across the playing field into the school. First we went into the Headmistress office," Miss Stark." she was a lovely lady. and I really soon settled in that school. Many year later when I was well into working with trees, I had a phone call to go and look at a tree over in "Tutshill" it turned out to be in Miss Stark`s garden. She still remembered me. Saying, " I always knew you would be doing something with tree`s. you were always being told to come down from climbing the tree`s in the school grounds." From that school it was down the road to what was known locally as the, Black school, That`s because it was a wooden building and was painted with a thick coat of black paint. " Mrs Meredith" was my teacher there, she taught well, I learned to write very neatly there, and always enjoyed my time. Then a few years later it was down to the bottom of Chepstow to Bridge street School. Mr Lewis, he was, Ok. from there up to Portwall secondary modern. Surprising looking back just how quick that time went by. Yes I can say, My school days overall were very Happy. It was when I was fourteen that my Art teacher, Mr Lysham came and asked my Mother if he could take me to Newport, (Gwent) to sit the entrance exam to get into Art collage. Mother agreed, So it was off to Newport, Mr Lysham, myself and Des King. That was a long day, we set out in his car at about 8.30am, There all day then home around 6.00pm. I was a good while before we got the results. But when it came, I passed, poor Des, missed out. I can remember The Headmaster making the announcement in assembly. I was the first one from that school to go into Art collage. There was only one thing. I could not start untill I reached 16 years old. So I left school at 15years old and got a job down at Severn tunnel train engine sheds. That`s was the start of my working life. I did enjoy working in the engine sheds there. It was steam engines at the time. A great bunch of lads to work with, always out for a bit of fun and a good laugh. I was only there for a year, in that time we had many interesting jobs. Like cleaning a small engine that was going to be used to Keep the Royal Train warm, whilst it stopped in a siding over night on a trip into Wales. The Royal train, carrying the Queen and all the other people that are involved in taking care of Her on their travels. The engine we cleaned had to be gleaming. From a black soot covered machine to look just like it was brand new. All the panels, the boiler, tender coupling and even the brass ring around the top of the stack. I thought we were even having to polish the coal before it was loaded, Just having a laugh. When the engine pulled out to go and keep the Royal train warm, I felt quiet proud, a job well done. Even if no one on the train being warmed even noticed. The driver and fireman jut couple up on the tail end of the Royal train, Fixing the steam pipe so as to blow hot steam into the carriage systems radiators. They would work all night long, through till morning and then un couple so The Royal train could then continue on its Journey. The days of steam aye. Other jobs included unloading sand trucks into the drying shed. This was hard work and a bit dangerous, it would not be aloud these days. The wagon was parked up near to the shed then we had to rest a plank across from the top side of the wagon, shovel the wet sand up into a wheel barrow on the plank, once we filled the barrow it had to be pushed across the plank and tipped into the top section of the drying shed . There it would be shoveled into an hopper that had a fire box, when this was lite the heat would dry the sand and it would flow down into the bottom part of the shed, ready for the drivers or firemen to bucket it into the engines brake boxes. This way used in cold and wet weather, it would dribble down a pipe fitted in front of the drive wheels to fall on the tracks and help with the grip. Often this job would take us, that is two lads about two or three days of very hard and heavy work. All the cleaners were there waiting to start their training to be firemen. Going on the main lines, keeping the engines stoked and fires blazing to produce a good head of steam to keep the engine running at speed. About two months before I left to go to Art collage, I was with a Driver and his fireman, learning the job. Hot heavy hard work for a fifteen year old lad. I did enjoy it though. Working on a banker, pushing long trains down and through the severn tunnel. Its surprising just how steep it is to the bottom of that tunnel, then the climb out . One of my memories was when we were to push a train coupled up to a Castle class engine. these were the only engines that had a speedomitter fitted. I asked my driver if I would be aloud to travel on the castle footplate. He told me to just go up to the front of the train and see if the other driver would allow it. I was a bit nervous, but the castle driver just said, " Jump up here lad, We`ll show you what a real engine runs like". Boy, was I excited. Off we went, steamed out of the siding when the signals was our way. Then onto the Main line. We are a mile or so away from the severn tunnel entrance now on the Welsh side of the river. Right, said the driver, lets give this lad a ride to remember. Opening up the valves and a full head of steam I watched that clock, 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70. I was thinking this will not go any faster, we entered the tunnel at a tremendous speed. Flying into a dark smoke filled hole. The speed increased Now we were motoring. That was one hell of a ride, the noise, smoke, sparks, no wonder it stayed with me. The ride back was worst. Being at the back of the train and pushing means you get all the smoke from the front engine thats pulling. Much better when i was on that castle in the front. S now at sixteen I leave to go to collage. Journey on.