IN the bleak winter of 1984, the mining communities of Durham stood united against unprecedented challenges during one of the defining industrial disputes in British history. For me, that Christmas became a powerful testament to community strength, family solidarity, and the extraordinary compassion of local women’s support groups.
 
At just nine years old, I experienced first-hand how working-class communities could transform potential despair into a celebration of hope and resilience.
 
The miners’ strike had pushed families to the financial brink, with my household surviving on £27 per week (Dad wasn’t entitled to any benefits from Thatcher’s government because they said the miners were receiving strike pay, which Dad wasn’t). Yet, all over Britain, a remarkable network of women’s support groups emerged that would create lasting memories of warmth and love.
 
The women’s support group in Easington, the first one set up in County Durham, led by the indomitable Heather Wood and her mother Myrtle Macpherson, became the heartbeat of community survival.
 
For me, their most memorable act of kindness that year was organising Christmas presents from the French miners for every child of a striking miner and ensuring families had a proper Christmas meal. For my family, this meant more than simple charity — it was an act of profound solidarity.
 
Just a month before Christmas, my parents faced the harsh reality many striking families confronted. They had to make the difficult decision to withdraw the modest £50 saved in my brother Ian’s and my savings accounts. In an era of financial uncertainty, every penny counted. Yet, this act was not one of defeat but of parental love and pragmatic survival.
 
Our extended family rallied around us in remarkable ways. My uncles Alan and Brian ensured we would have not just the one turkey from the women’s support group but two turkeys that Christmas — a luxury we had never experienced before. Their support epitomised the close-knit nature of mining communities, where family and solidarity were paramount.
 
My Christmas present that year was a quintessentially 1980s item: a small black suitcase adorned with red and silver stripes. For a young gymnast, this was more than just a gift — it became a cherished companion. I used that case religiously, carrying my chalk, hand grips, and slippers to gymnastics class every week, a faithful companion until I retired from the sport in my late teens.
 
It wasn’t until 2017, decades after that transformative Christmas, that I had the opportunity to personally thank Wood for her incredible work during the strike and for getting me and my brother a Christmas present. What began as gratitude blossomed into a deep friendship. Today, I am proud to call her not just a community hero but one of my closest friends and a woman of extraordinary strength.
 
Looking back, what strikes me most is not the hardship but the overwhelming sense of love and closeness that defined our family during that challenging time.

As a child, I was sheltered from the economic struggles by the collective embrace of my family and community. The strike was more than an industrial dispute — it was a moment that revealed the true character of working-class communities.
 
The 1984 miners’ strike represents a pivotal moment in British industrial and social history. It was a time of immense political tension, where communities fought not just for jobs but for their very way of life. The women’s support groups, often overlooked in historical narratives, were instrumental in maintaining community morale and ensuring families could survive.
 
Today, as we reflect on those tumultuous times, the story of that Christmas serves as a powerful reminder of human resilience. It speaks to the power of community, the strength of working-class solidarity, and the ability of ordinary people to create extraordinary moments of hope in the face of adversity.
 
For me, that Christmas was not defined by what we lacked but by the abundance of love, support, and collective strength that surrounded us. It was a Christmas that, despite the challenges, remains etched in my memory as a beacon of hope and human compassion.

Lynn Gibson is the national secretary of Women Against Pit Closures.