[Richard W. Morris wrote his memoir in 1972. The listening experience is part his of memories of ‘good music to be heard everywhere’, including chapel choirs, in the pit villages of his boyhood. There is no indication in the memoir that Morris or his family had any specific religious affiliation]

Some of the chapels had very good concert parties as well, and an enormous amount of pleasure was given, not only to the members themselves, but to all those who went to hear them. It was by such efforts that the chapels paid their way. It must be very sad for the old members of these denominations to see these old places of worship now being used as Bingo Halls, and in the case of our old primitive methodist [sic] chapel, now being used as a motor repair garage. Nostalgia? Yes, maybe, but all these people worked hard to make our lives well worth living, and to brighten our days with good music, when there was so much to complain about because of the harsh conditions under which [miners and their families] lived. When I think of the nauseating, nonsensical rubbish to which most of us are continually subjected almost throughout the twenty-four hours of each day, today, no one can wonder that my generation mourns the passing of a period in our history when good music was made by the people themselves.