A fighters story

Previously

…Going underground felt like a defeat — trading open skies and the work he knew for the dark, narrow seams of the earth, a hard step down for a man who’d spent his days making bricks. But he glanced at his worn boots, then at the pram waiting outside, and made his choice. He walked down the hill to Bridgend, signed his name at the colliery office, and traded his trowel and brick mould for a pit pick. As he turned toward the pit head for his first shift, fine black soot already settling on his coat, he paused to look back up at Pentland Road. He was going down into the dark, so his family could stay in the light. The real fight for their future had only just begun.