Newport and environs

Today spoke to Newport Rotary and had lovely time! A charming group who meets at Lodge Hotel and Bistro (the Bistro part, obviously) in Newport. To R is picture of me with Terry Underwood, who is author of 8 books, composer of 8 musicals, knew Mrs. Hopkins quite well (Anthony's mother, you know), is a fascinating character in general, and, oh by the way, owns a theatre company! His 2005 book is Foul Deeds and Suspicious Deaths around Newport (book is about halfway down the page in this link). His historical investigations have led him to the information that one of his relatives (a great- or great-great-uncle) was involved quite significantly in local Charter Riots during the 1830s and 1840s --this was a time of great poverty and workers were pursuing reformation of employment and pay practices. Some of the issues in the above linked page are quite sad and unimaginable.

David Hodson (to L), who invited me to the club in the first place, was quite amused to relate to the group the riveting news from the front page of the Shreveport Times online this morning -- the very relevant issue of local refuse disposal problems... nice. Mr. Hodson has done quite a bit of geneological research and I might get him to help me do some searching (in my spare time, i suppose. we can try being optimistic.) -- there is a local Mormon geneological center in Wales, Ponty-prydd, perhaps. He also gave me the answer for so many African-Americans having Welsh surnames -- the captains of slave trading ships were significantly Welsh in number and once docked, they (and the slaves) would refer to the slaves as 'Owens's' or 'Jones's', etc. Interesting. He seemed quite pleased that I come from a Jones lineage and told me that I look rather Welsh :)

After leaving the meeting, Steve Jenkins took me to the Transporter Bridge, which spans the River Usk and is quite a unique structure (actually 1 of 3 in the UK and 1 of only 7 in the world). Kind of like a ferry, except in the air, strung along by cables. This is its centenary year, in case anyone wants to come for any of the special events! It was a little rainy and misty, so the cables might be a little difficult to see (picture to R, you can see little Welsh flag waving). We did not ride across. There seems to be no point, except as a tourist attraction. As my mother knows, I think it would be fun to climb up to the top.

Then, on the way back to Cardiff, we stopped at Tredegar House and grounds. This was the ancestral home of the Morgans, which black sheep of the family, Henry, became pirate and governor of Jamaica and after whom the rum is named (contrary to popular belief that this beverage is named after certain Ira Lee, legendary modern pirate masquerading as esteemed English professor). A more promising young man of the family was in the Charge of the Light Bridgade during the Crimean War and returned a hero. Of 600 men who participated in the charge, only 180 made it out alive; Gerald Morgan was one of the highest ranking officers who lived. He credited his magnificent horse with saving him and when the horse died, it was given almost the equivalent of a state funeral. (To R is main gate to the house as seen from stable yard, picture taken cunningly through gate; the building on the R is the stable. I could live there. Yes, yes, i could.)