Leight Dobie

06.08.24

I was born in Murton but moved to Easington when I was seven in 1998. I didn’t experience the old
Easington school itself because it had shut down, and everyone was simultaneously moving to the new
school. The old school has been demolished now, but it was the Primary. And I went to the new school
when everyone else did.

I liked Easington growing up. I remember moving from Murton and saying to me, mam…‘Are they going to
speak like we do?’ Because I thought it was miles away but it’s only five minutes. If you take my grandad
and even my dad, I think they’ll say things my generation doesn’t say. In Murton, they say a lot of
Shakespearean terms. They’ll say thou, and my grandad still speaks like that now. You don’t get that
anywhere else; I think that’s Murton-centric.

I’ve been writing an album, so I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my childhood and youth. One thing that
struck me the most was the beach because of all of the coal, iron, copper and everything on it. It was just
black. I remember I’d never seen anything like it, which was fascinating. It took such a long time for that to
go because it was like that for years after the pit closed. Easington Colliery pit closed in 1993, and I got
there in 1998, but it was at least ten years after it closed that it wasn’t really looking black anymore. If you
go down there now, there may still be some patches of orange or copper. As a seven-year-old kid, I was
wondering…‘why is it black?’ But you can see the comparison in photos, how different it is now. It’s
amazing, really.

Crimdon was seen as the superior beach. Last year, there was a landslide caused by cliff erosion, so you
couldn’t access the beach for a certain amount of time, and they were telling people to be careful. It might
be okay now, but the steps are questionable. I know they’ve got the raid shelter from World War II, and
that’s pretty cool to look at. Even the walk across the beach banks is really nice.

I lived down Wembley, near Canada. Wembley is between the main road, Seaside Lane and Canada. I
lived there for about four or five years, and then we moved up to the Waterworks area. At that point, it was
just the same for everyone. At Wembley, everyone was either working class or, to be honest, piss poor.
But all the kids used to band together. Back then, you’d have five-year-olds in the street with 12-year-olds,
and nobody batted an eyelid. We’d look after the young ones. I used to follow my brother everywhere. I
wanted to be with him and all of his friends. He didn’t mind until it reached a certain point when he was at
school, and he wanted me to leave him alone. You don’t see that a lot now in the same way, and it would
just be all ages. I think everyone has now moved on to doing specific things.

I joined a Jazz Band when I was nine. My friend lived on the same street as me, and then I would just
knock and ask if she was coming out. One day, she said she couldn’t because she had jazz band
practice. I had no idea what it was. She said I should come along and that I’d love it. So I did, and I
became obsessed with it when I arrived. I did it for a long time. I was in Sherburn for a while, but then I
was at Blackhall. They’re still going now. Obviously, not as many as there were then, but there are still
bands out there. That was an amazing sense of community because you’d meet twice weekly to rehearse.
But from March to October, there were also carnivals every week, so you’d become friends with people in
the other bands. It was a massive community thing. I do miss it. I don’t know before the ‘90s, but they
became quite competitive when I was in them. You’d have a lot of regiment, but everyone had their place,
and nobody complained. Everybody loved it because you got to play a musical instrument, and that’s
where my love of music was born.

Peterlee Emeralds were about, but they changed their name to Peterlee Zodiacs by the time I started. By
the time it was the late ‘90s or early ‘00s, even in American marching bands, they had glockenspiels. They
started to put harnesses on them, so I was on that for a while. You have xylophones now. When I first
started, I was on the snare drum and on the marimba for a while. I loved the marimba and glockenspiel. I
did have times when I was on the kazoo but I didn’t enjoy that as much as being on the bells. It was an
amazing experience.

When I was at Sherburn, it was called Sherburn Stars and the Sovereign Airs at Blackhall. They’ve
disbanded now. Murton used to have one. In fact, every village did, in all the old mining villages and in
Wales too. I performed at the Peterlee Carnival when I was at Blackhall. You’d start doing the parade
through the streets, then do a display for 15 minutes. But there was also a Carnival in Blackhall for a
while. I didn’t know about that until I was in the Blackhall band because I never really went to Blackhall.
We used to perform at that carnival, too. It’s nice to see that some are still going. Back then, you used to
have Juvenile Bands, and most of them were. They were up to 18 years old, and once you hit 18, you
couldn’t compete in those unless you started a Senior Jazz Band, which could be any age. But now, all of
them are senior bands or any age can join in. At least half of the bands are not there now.

The band I was in had to fold because of funding. They became a senior band and called themselves
Durham Cavaliers. They were going for a while but they had to fold again due to funding. A lot of them go
through Heritage Lottery Funding. But it was dwindling, and I think fewer people cared about it. It also
became a lot more expensive. Every band would host a carnival. You can’t win your own carnival but you
do perform as a tradition. So all the other bands are in competition, and then you’d host little things in
between, like parades and displays. You’d have a little drum section competition, the bells had one, and
sometimes we’d judge, and you felt proper old.

As more bands have folded, there’s less of them hosting. I remember going to what they called the World
Championships. I think it was just to sound the biggest. It was in Birmingham, and I think I was about 14.
There were so many bands and parades, and I think it took about 3 hours to do. Everyone’s parades and
displays were put on over two days. Every band who could get there was there. We took a coach down
and slept in a little chapel in sleeping bags. It was very influential in my childhood.

They perform at very specific events now. You wouldn’t see them locally in Easington or Murton. They’re
always in Newcastle or Yorkshire. I do find it quite sad because they were around for like a lot of years
and I didn’t know, but my mam was in a jazz band. And my Nana was as well. My Nana was originally
from Murton. She met my grandad and moved to Sunderland and they had my mam. My mam’s actually a
Mackem. My dad’s family are from Murton.

There used to be a market in the car park underneath ASDA on bank holidays in the late ‘90s. Obviously,
ASDA never used to be there. It used to be where Wilkinson’s is, even though it’s not even Wilkinson’s
now, in the town centre. And then it moved to where it is now. The market was on the bottom tier, and
there used to be people setting up stalls, and it used to go all the way along and into the main bit before
Costa. And I’m sure they also used to put it on during the Peterlee Carnival.

It’s starkly different now, isn’t it? I remember when I was six and obviously still over at Murton, I fractured
my wrist because where I used to live, there was a cul-de-sac and then an entrance to the farmer’s field.
There were about 15 of us and a wooded area. And all the kids had made tree swings. I was swinging on
this little one; I fell off and ended up fracturing my wrist. It was quite far, and I was six. But everyone was
like that then, I used to walk to school myself. Even when I moved over here when I was seven. If I had
kids now, I wouldn’t let them. It was a different time. And the town is a shadow of its former self.

Even the pubs in Easington, you used to have The Shoulder of Mutton, the Mason’s Arms, The Half
Moon, Southside, The Village Inn and The Half Moon. And now you only have the Southside and The Half
Moon, even though Southside is still going strong but that’s a social club. Things have just dwindled. I
remember when I first moved to Easington, there also used to be The Black Diamond. It was a pub next to
the Co-op. It was The Black Diamond for a long time, and then my school friend, called Maya, her dad
took it over and called it The Derby. It wasn’t even open for a year, and then it was just left. It then got
demolished and Elliot House is there now. When I was a young kid, my mam and dad used to go to Quick
Save.

I remember Peterlee Carnival; it felt massive when I was a kid. It was the event of the year. I remember all
of the colourful rides. You’d have the main stage, which would have different acts on. When I went to
college, there was a lad on my course. He was in the band Twister, and they used to play a Peterlee
Carnival every year. They’ve been going for 20 years. They’ve just changed the name, though. There were
four lads, and a few were on my course at college; sometimes, they’d headline. But I don’t remember
much of the stage when I was a kid. I was more concerned with shows and candyfloss. The Dog’s Dish
ride, I don’t know how I didn’t break anything on that ride.

There were floats, and I think Walker’s was probably a sponsor. Obviously, there were a few factories
around there at the time. I remember there was Walker’s Kookaburra, which was a chicken factory. There
was Country Style, which was doughnuts, and Dewhirst. I love how nobody from our childhood went in,
but we can all remember it.

And for Bonfire night, they used to have a display in Easington, when I was a kid. I think they stopped in
the early ‘00s because they built the houses next to the colliery club. But they used to have a massive
display every year when they weren’t there. It was amazing. I went to the Peterlee one because they also
used to have a bonfire. I think many people in Easington were really annoyed because of the new housing
estate; the Easington one wasn’t going to happen anymore. And many people wouldn’t go to the Peterlee
one because they were so loyal to Easington. But I went, it was quite good. I was around 14. I think
there’s still an element of separation between Easington and Peterlee. Easington is a part of Peterlee
now, but I think many people want it to be seen as their own place. It’s the same with Murton and
Seaham; I’ve never known anybody from Murton who would say that they were in Seaham.

When I went to university in Salford, people assumed I was from Newcastle. We have many different
accents in the North East region, which don’t translate outside. I think we’re losing certain intricacies. Our
accent back in the day, some people would say it was the Pit Yacker accent. But if you were to say that
now, people wouldn’t have a clue. You naturally pick up other accents. When I was in Salford, there was
one time my mam came down with her raging Mackem accent. She started laughing when I said
something with a Lancashire twang. But when I’m around my family or someone with a heavy accent from
here, mine just comes straight back. I don’t even consciously do it. I get quite fascinated by accents. So I
just naturally start taking on others. When I was at school, you got told to say yes but I’d always just say
‘aye.’ A big Sunderland thing as well; it’s still like ma’ and da’. They might interchangeably say ma’ and
mam, but it’s granda’ or something like that. I think for me it’s more the words we extend or say differently,
but they mean the same thing. So ‘can’t’ or ‘don’t,’ I’m more likely to say ‘cannit.’

‘I cannit de it. I wunnit de it; I’m gannin there.’

That’s the way I talk most of the time. But when I’m around people, especially if they’re not from here, I’m
more conscious of saying things like can’t.

I have a love-hate thing with Apollo Pavilion. If someone had asked me 10 years ago, I probably would
have said I hated it. But I think as I’ve got older and grown more of an appreciation for art and brutalism, I
don’t hate it now. I think the majority of people in everyday existence won’t know why it’s there or what it
is. I was talking to my mam about it, and she said it was an eyesore. But it’s kind of ironic, in a good or
bad way. But I suppose if I was living on its doorstep or opposite it, I might feel a lot different and back in
the day, 15 years ago, it was worse. If you think about it, you’ve got deprived families around there, and I
don’t know what it’s like now, but 15, 20 years ago, it was like that in that area. So Apollo was an outlet for
them. Anti-social behaviour and vandalism.

I didn’t see it until I was about 16 and on the bus to college. The bus used to go everywhere in Peterlee
before going to Durham. And it went round that estate. I remember seeing it and just thinking…‘What is
that?’ And I didn’t actually know until years later.

If you think of Easington, Horden and Peterlee now. It could do with a lot more funding. Because if you
think of Seaham and the seafront with North Road and how amazing that is now compared to 15 years
ago. And that was deprived. We need that funding now. Obviously, we’ve got some stuff that’s amazing.
Like the Pit Cage sculpture, which is meant to represent the cage going down. It’s not an original cage,
but many people think it is. It’s just an installation. There are also the monoliths in Easington. It’s a
sculpture that was actually used on one of The Who album covers from the ‘70s. It’s on the old pit site,
just a concrete monolith. No one knows exactly where it is. Some reports say they stopped off at
Easington after playing a gig in Sunderland but some say Sheffield. It’s crazy that for a globally known
band, no one knows the precise location of their album cover. The photographer said they drove towards
the coast, which wouldn’t be Sheffield. But it’s just slag heaps with The Who standing in front of it with a
concrete rectangle, and you’re just thinking…‘What was that?’ ‘Why was it there?’ ‘What happened to it?’

Sometimes, artwork up here is just placed. It’s the same thing with the Pit Cage. For years, I thought it
was the original. Nobody knows. You can’t just place something with no context. I think the only one who
is kind of exempt from that is Tommy at Seaham. There are people travelling worldwide to see it, which is
mad. And it’s a soldier, so it’s obvious.

I’m 33 now, but when I was in school, we didn’t learn anything about mining heritage. The most I learned
was the legend of the Easington Hare or looking at an old map and finding out Easington was called
Effington at one point. I’ve had to find anything outside of that, and I think that’s a shame when you’ve got
people born and bred here who don’t know anything about their history or culture.

When I was a teenager, people used to go out on Friday drinking, and it was like a massive thing when I
was a teenager. Everyone sat on the church seat on the village green for a while. I didn’t go out all the
time, but sometimes I did, and we went down the Welly, the Welfare grounds. But they started locking
them after so long because there’d be 60 youngins getting pissed.

When I was a kid, I was never in the house. You used to hear people’s mam screaming for them to come
in for their tea. When I lived in Wembley and was up in Canada, I’d hear my mam screaming for us to
come home for tea. Rio, the ice cream van, is still going. My nana always had choc ice in the freezer, and
you used to feel so depressed having choc ice when the ice cream van was outside. Everyone’s mam or
nana must have said no to getting something from Rio because you had choc ice in the freezer. When I
went to school, walking home, Rio would always be down the estate because he knew the school kids
were coming out. I used to always buy something on my way home. It used to be sweets and fizzy bubble
bottles. You could pick up loads for like 50p. And Freddos for 10p. Space raiders and sherbet dibdabs.

You’d get those sugar straws, and they’d always sell them in the tuckshop at school. I loved them. You
could get really long ones. I think it’s still open, but at the Waterworks where my mam lives, there’s a shop
around there round the back of the estate it’s like a little shop. It used to be called Rita’s; I don’t know if
that was its official name. The owner was Rita, so we used to call it Rita’s. They used to sell them, and
I’ve never seen them since. I must have been about 10. They sold these crunchy bars, but they were
tango crunchies. They were only about 10p at the time and were amazing, but I’ve never seen them since.
I miss them.