There was grandeur for us to achieve, like the Roman who said, "I found Rome a city of brick and left it a city of marble." The spirit of building was in our blood; we took pride in the mill, and the mill owners were our captains.

They honored us for our strength and skill, they paid us and we were loyal to them.

We showed what bee men call "the spirit of the hive." On holidays our ball team played against the team of a neighboring mill, and the owners and bosses were on the sidelines coaching the men and yelling like boys when a batter lifted a homer over the fence.

That was before the rattle heads and fanatics had poisoned the well of good fellowship and made men fear and hate one another.

Sometimes the Welsh would play against the Irish or the English.