[fans shouting]
PHIL PARKINSON: Come on, boys.
Relish it. We're playing at home.
Okay, we spoke about yesterday
about it being a special day for the club, okay,
and how we pay tribute to that
is by putting in a really good performance.
[announcer speaking indistinctly]
MARK GRIFFITHS: As both sides make their way
onto the Racecourse pitch, Wrexham
looking to try and make it...
CROWD: Wrexham! Wrexham!
MARK: This is a football town. It's a hardworking town.
We've been through difficult times lately,
but the mining is a massive part of that.
[light music]
We had the most horrific disaster.
And I'm not saying most
in a pejorative sense.
Factually the worst mining disaster
in the history of Britain happened in the 1930s
just on the edge of Wrexham in the Gresford mine.
And before things get underway here,
there will be a minute's silence
for the Gresford Colliery disaster.
♪ ♪
WAYNE JONES: It was well over 200 people
that perished that day.
The story of Wrexham supporters
that swapped shifts so they could watch Wrexham,
and then, sadly, the people that obviously replaced them
passed away, so it's another example, I guess,
of what the football club means to the people,
that they would swap shifts
to go do a night shift rather than a day shift
just to be able to come and watch the football club
going back all them years, you know?
So, you know, the people from the outside now that will say
the way they are, Hollywood FC and all that,
they have no idea about us as a club.
You know, they have no idea of the disaster
that was Gresford Colliery that these people went through
to be able to come and watch this football team.
SCOTT GALLOWAY: A disaster like that
in a town of that size
can literally kind of be the starting gun
for a slow demise to oblivion.
There's the economic damage.
There's the emotional trauma.
It's not a foregone conclusion that a town like this survives.
[birds chirping]
SINGER: ♪ Don't forget where you came from ♪
♪ Don't forget what you're made of ♪
♪ The ones who were there ♪
♪ When no one else would care ♪
♪ Don't be afraid to cry now ♪
♪ Even when the world comes crashing in ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Don't forget to sing when you win ♪
♪ ♪
♪ Don't forget to sing when you win ♪
[birds chirping]
ALAN JONES: Well, I've been before.
I don't know if you remember the talk we did.
It's about the coal mining industry in Wrexham,
the Gresford Colliery in particular.
Have we got any Wrexham supporters?
Wow, that's brilliant.
Anybody got the shirt?
What's the numbers on the back?
ALAN: So it's a real big remembrance of what went on.
My name is Alan Jones. This is my wife, Margaret.
I'm chair of the Friends of the Gresford Disaster Memorial.
And Margaret is the secretary, sweeper-up,
pot-washer, and everything else associated.
Now, that's a picture of the shaft when it was being dug.
Can you imagine?
It's nearly half a mile deep
with tunnels running under this area.
Very close connection to this school.
Now, we come to September the 21st, 1934.
If they'd have obeyed the new legislation,
every coalface would've had fresh air.
But because of the old legislation,
the same air was going round every piece of the colliery,
picking up dust, picking up gas,
and then eventually,
a spark or a flame ignited the gas.
[explosion booms]
NARRATOR: A terrific blast
awoke the sleeping town of Wrexham.
Explosion and fire at Gresford
was the dread message.
NARRATOR: While at the pithead, groups of miners,
their wives and children,
are waiting and fearing the worst.
NARRATOR 2: Men from the surrounding pits ceased work
and rushed to help in the task of rescue.
Already three of these heroic men
have lost their lives, and as they fall,
overcome by the dread gas, others are waiting, undaunted,
to take their places.
ALAN: The 22nd, people waiting for news.
All them people looking for their family.
Their dads, their uncles, their sons.
Men arriving, desperate to help,
whatever they could,
to do what they could on land or underground.
At one time, there were over 200 men underground
fighting the fires and trying to hold the roof up.
But it was impossible.
MARGARET JONES: There were 261 left without a dad.
[church bells ringing]
PRODUCER: And how old were you when your father passed away?
Three year old.
My father's name was William Crump.
He was 38...
When he was killed in the disaster.
But I used to peek through the window,
'cause you'd hear them going up the street in their clogs.
I remember Mum, she used to scream,
used to shout 'cause she was in so much pain.
They decided to brick that part off.
And my youngest brother, he went to work down the mine
and he said,
"I wanted to knock that wall down."
Because somebody had said that the bodies could be recovered.
There's no need for them to be down there.
They could've brought them out.
RUBY'S DAUGHTER: They wanted them to have a burial, Mum,
didn't they?
And--yeah, was-- that didn't happen.
They should've tried a bit harder that they can
get them out, you know.
Why couldn't we have Dad out?
BRYN LAW: The history is very significant
in terms of the football because
I think it's got to be important
that there were so many mining communities
around Wrexham that Wrexham took to football
almost before anywhere else.
That's why you have that 1864 on the badge.
You know, that's very, very early on
in the history of football.
Because you've got guys who are working underground,
the hardest jobs, the worst jobs,
looking for some form of recreation
when they get back above the surface.
They like a pint, plenty of pubs around,
but they want to do something as well.
And football took off massively in this part of the world.
NARRATOR: Legend has it that many years ago,
whenever a first-class football club in the North
or Midlands wanted a player,
the club manager just went to the nearest coal mine
and shouted down the pit shaft.
ROB McELHENNEY: Hi. MARGARET: Oh, hi.
How are you? Rob McElhenney.
This is my father, Bob.
BOB: Well, hello. - Hey, Bob. Big Al.
- Big Al. - I don't know why.
I can see that. I get that. [Margaret laughs]
ROB: So here we are.
You've got mining connections.
- We do. - Is that on your dad's side?
Yes, it is. My great-- BOB: Yeah, yeah.
Would it be your great-grandfather
was a miner in--
My great-grandfather was, yeah.
Right, they--first they started off in Donegal,
right, and then they came over to Milford.
You know, Glasgow. ALAN: Yeah.
[upbeat funky music]
After the First World War, industry was left--
in this country, was just left to go.
The shipyards were struggling,
the steel industry was struggling,
and it was vital for Wrexham
that the coal industry kept going.
It employed the vast majority
or involved the vast majority of the town.
Coal mining is what put the "Great"
into Great Britain.
The coal that was raised drove the ships.
It drove the railways.
It was the only real employment in the area,
and people were desperate, desperate for work.
SCOTT: The great arbitrage of the 20th century
that fueled the economy globally
was this arbitrage between fossil fuels,
turning them into energy.
Pittsburgh where there was, you know, steel mining
or Detroit building automobiles
or the town of Wrexham and mining,
but it's come at a huge cost,
and that cost is primarily to middle-class people
who are more manual jobs who aren't living in a city.
You know, there was pretty much one,
you know, buyer of your labor.
And so you weren't-- there wasn't a negotiation.
It was a decision.
Do you want to provide for your family or not?
There's this tragic life before the disaster.
This is hard living, to try and get through this.
Oh, absolutely, absolutely.
Another point.
Um, they were paid on the Friday, a lot of the men,
so when they went down the pit,
their wages were in their pockets.
BOB: Oh, jeez.
Seven shillings and three-quarter pence.
That was it. - That was per week.
- Per week, yeah.
[somber music]
♪ ♪
So they're still lying there now.
So the families didn't even get that.
ALAN: They didn't get zilch.
And the wages of the miners that died
actually stopped at...
- 2:00 in the morning. - 2:00 in the morning.
They didn't get paid for a full shift.
The time of the explosion.
The owners ruled with an iron rod.
Health and safety was-- it didn't exist.
It was get the coal out at all costs.
♪ ♪
ROB: So how long has the memorial been here?
ALAN: Uh, since 1982.
MARGARET: Which was 48 years in waiting.
There wasn't a memorial put up straightaway
after the disaster, the reason being
the vested interests of the mine owners
who wanted to avoid punishment.
NARRATOR: Nationwide interest
centers on Wrexham church hall,
where the Ministry of Mines
opens its inquiry into the Gresford pit disaster.
Miners thrown out of work by the catastrophe
eagerly queue up for places.
Many of these men were among the 480 at the coalface
when the explosion occurred, killing 264 men.
This being Britain, the upper classes win.
In the end, Bonsall and the mine company
were convicted but only for inadequate recordkeeping.
They were fined a pathetic ££140.
BRYN: I think people still know
that you've got to be very, very careful about those
who come in and profess to say, "We're gonna--
you know, you're gonna help us do this."
Rob and Ryan might have encountered it
to an extent, you know?
That was one of the hurdles that they had to overcome
because of things like Gresford.
I think it's very worthwhile that we remember
that one awfully significant event
as a part in the bigger picture
in terms of the history of the place.
So what does the colliery wheel actually do?
We'd have an engine house there, yeah,
with a rope going up
around the wheel and down the shaft.
So there'd be a cage that would
wind up and down with the men.
So this is actually how the men traveled down...
ALAN: Yeah, yeah. - Into the mine?
ALAN: Yes. Half a mile.
ROB: Half a mile into the ground?
Okay, can you take us to the other wheels that were--
ALAN: To the sister wheel?
ROB: To the sister wheel, please.
ALAN: Yeah, absolutely, yeah. It's not very far up the road.
The wheel was abandoned by the previous owners
and buried it in the ground here.
ROB: Ah.
But you can see the size.
ROB: Take a picture of it for Ryan.
ALAN: Yeah. - He'll wanna see this.
♪ ♪
It was always in the plans
when we were working with the local architects
and engineers about the design for the new Kop...
ALAN: Yeah.
ROB: That we wanted to make sure that we were honoring
the coal mining industry in any way that we could,
so as you can see with the façade of the brick
and then in the color. BOB: Mm-hmm.
ROB: And then we wanted to find ways in which
we could just be pretty overt with our respect,
and I think this would be a good way,
to take the sister wheel, to put it in a respectful place
up near the stand for the new Kop.
For this to go to the Racecourse
and be mounted up would be the--
[chuckling] Wow. The utmost pleasure of my life.
ROB: Mm. - Sorry, Mag.
[laughter]
But it would-- it's so important.
Anybody in Wrexham with a mining connection,
and there's not many that haven't,
they're gonna be so pleased.
Well, thank you so much for showing us this.
Hopefully, we can do it justice.
♪ ♪
ROB: All right, what were you saying when we got in the car?
BOB: Yeah, so we were getting in the car
and I'm just thinking--
ROB: Actually, if you hit that button here,
it'll close that so it's not so loud.
Right: BOB: This guy?
ROB: Window open? Yeah.
Yeah.
ROB: We're running sound, though, still?
ROB: So is picture running?
ROB: Okay, great.
So this is so great that
we're dealing with fog issues on the lens.
BOB: Right.
'Cause it's indicative of how ridiculous
modern life is
compared to--compared to the way it used to be.
You know, those guys would have to go to work
in these same conditions
and they wouldn't have to worry about defogging a lens
to shoot their bullshit Hollywood documentary.
They'd be going a half a mile into the ground.
Into the ground, right, just gobbling them up.
I was struck by the fact
that they were going down like that,
and I thought to myself, how unfortunate
that I never had a chance to talk to my dad
about going down into those ships, those cargo ships.
I think, as a longshoreman, that's what they did, right?
Back in his earlier days,
they would literally go down into the bowels of these ships
and get all the stuff out of there.
And I never took that into consideration as a kid.
I just figured, well, he went to work,
he brought his check home, and we--you know,
we went off to school.
But, you know, the symbolism of the wheel,
I just hope that it's just a symbol of what people were.
You know, these are the people whose shoulders,
you know, that we're standing on.
ROB: It's just a reminder that, you know,
everybody can find a connection
to what that means in their community
or in their life.
My father was talking about Vietnam,
and he was saying how everybody knew somebody
who was killed in Vietnam.
Certainly in our community.
There's something quite unifying about that.
Even though one is a vocation, one is war,
it was a very specific kind of person
that was killed in that war,
and it was a very specific kind of person
that was killed in that mine.
And I think almost everybody across the world
can identify with people like that.
BOB: The people were waiting, they're raising their family,
and now all of a sudden,
you know, your husband's not coming home tonight.
And yet they go on, right? ROB: Yeah.
Life goes on.
ROB: No other choice. - Nope. Nope.
♪ ♪
BRYN: So we get further away from it,
but the connection still remains strong.
But the football club took that up,
and it's largely driven in many ways by the football club,
that this has become a big part
of what's happened in Wrexham's recent history,
to be honest, and the football club should take credit,
I think, for reminding people
about what's gone on in this community
beyond the football club.
And if they wonder why
people have fought so hard for their football club,
then perhaps these kinds of things are the reason for that.
[band playing "Yma o Hyd"]
MARK: There's a folk song
about 40 years old and written in Welsh
that was written originally as a political song
referring to our relationship with England
that's been adopted by the football fans
in some Welsh towns, including here in Wrexham.
It has a lot of resonance for us
because of what we've been through,
like the Gresford disaster.
It's called "Yma o Hyd,"
which translates as "We're Still Here."
Because we are.
♪ ♪
There's pride in it, and even though the mines
were shut down in the '80s,
I don't think you change
from your character that quickly.
♪ ♪
[applause]
All those things are entwined in terms of the DNA,
as we might now describe it, of Wrexham.
That industrial past is hugely significant,
and football's also hugely significant.
The idea that miners are trading shifts
so they could go out and watch a match
before going back down speaks volumes
to how ingrained and how much of a part of the fabric
of culture in Wrexham this club is.
It's nothing to be trifled with.
That's for sure.
ROB: The disaster happened 100 years ago,
but those people are still here.
Miners,
porters,
painters,
bartenders, teachers--
the people who wake up every day
and put in an honest shift.
[light music]
And every Saturday, they want to come to the Racecourse
and feel victorious, so every win, every goal
is a victory for them.
And if we don't do everything on our end
for them to feel that, then shame on us,
because they deserve it.
Because Wrexham is the town that's still here.
[whistle blows]
[crowd cheering]
["Yma o Hyd"]
♪ ♪
MARK: The corner is whipped in.
SINGER: [singing in Welsh]
MARK: Oh, it's a chance! It's a goal!
♪ ♪
Jones!
Oh, it's a ricochet in!
[crowd yelling]
♪ ♪
MARK: Oh, it's a cross this time towards Mullin!
[crowd cheering]
MARK: Corner comes in again.
Hayden! Oh!
♪ ♪
It's Lee! Cuts it back!
Dalby!
♪ ♪
[all singing in Welsh]
MARK: [speaking indistinctly]
MARK: Oh, what a pass that is!
[child giggles, seagull cries]