A figure stands in the fog smitten burial yard. They have coming looking, for something but they aren’t sure quite what it is. Guided here by a sense that that missing thing could be found amongst the stones, perhaps the pews? They make their way around to the front of the Chapel, feeling a little overawed, unsure if they should be there, they creep to the door and listen. It’s open, why shouldn’t they go in? A door crashes open, and they freeze, they are about to be caught and then a friendly voice says, “Hello, welcome, come in out of that weather. Are you looking for something?”
“A name” The figure says,. “I was looking for a name.”
“Ah, I see, well we can certainly help you there….”
The figure moves inside, looks up to the pulpit, amongst the pews, and they know. This is the place that they have been looking for. Hireth.
The strength of the Chapel’s identity comes from the three hundred years of the people that brought it to every next moment. Three hundred years of donations, fundraisers, concerts, teas, bazaars; of sermons, services, funerals, marriages and baptisms. We are of the Chapel; the Chapel is of us.
Writing a Social History of such a beloved, important place as the St Just Miners Chapel is like opening a treasure chest. Photographs, artefacts, memories, hopes and dreams come tumbling out and demand to be organised, to be celebrated. It is impossible to end.
A figure stands in the fog smitten burial yard. They have coming looking, for something but they aren’t sure quite what it is. Guided here by a sense that that missing thing could be found amongst the stones, perhaps the pews? They make their way around to the front of the Chapel, feeling a little overawed, unsure if they should be there, they creep to the door and listen. It’s open, why shouldn’t they go in? A door crashes open, and they freeze, they are about to be caught and then a friendly voice says, “Hello, welcome, come in out of that weather. Are you looking for something?”
“A name” The figure says,. “I was looking for a name.”
“Ah, I see, well we can certainly help you there….”
The figure moves inside, looks up to the pulpit, amongst the pews, and they know. This is the place that they have been looking for. Hireth.
The strength of the Chapel’s identity comes from the three hundred years of the people that brought it to every next moment. Three hundred years of donations, fundraisers, concerts, teas, bazaars; of sermons, services, funerals, marriages and baptisms. We are of the Chapel; the Chapel is of us.
Writing a Social History of such a beloved, important place as the St Just Miners Chapel is like opening a treasure chest. Photographs, artefacts, memories, hopes and dreams come tumbling out and demand to be organised, to be celebrated. It is impossible to end.