SHE was a war baby and became a face recognised by thousands of pubgoers in Newport. But now Elaine Stock has pulled her last pint, as DANIEL MARTIN reports.

SHE has greeted generations of customers in a little part of what she calls 'old Newport'.

For Elaine Stock, many things have changed about her home town since she was a girl.

Elaine was born in 1942 but remembers little of Newport during the war, except the bombing of Archibald Street and her sweet ration.

Her memories after the war are more vivid and she remembers growing up in freedom and safety.

Elaine laments on the lack of freedom and security Newport children have today, with parents paranoid about letting their children out.

The usual example of people being able to leave their doors open cropped up, yet she fondly remembers the local bobby catching her playing knock-a-dolly.

Elaine said: "Well not everyone left their doors open, obviously, but it was an option.

"The bobby who caught me knew my name, where I lived and would even have a word with my father if I were really out of order."

She was one of three girls but unlike her sisters left school at 15-years-old after completing her basic education.

She said: "I was never very keen on the books and in those days jobs were relatively easy to come by, so I started work at a shoe shop."

But not everything was good in the old days: her father, like many men of that time, worked for a chemical factory and later died of emphysema at the age of 76.

It was an avoidable death and as usual no compensation was paid out to his family by the company, so Elaine carried on working.

Not soon after the death of her father another man entered her life. Glyn Lewis swept Elaine off her feet at just 18-years-old and married her in 1961.

She said: "Glyn had just come out of the Army and was a very hard worker but he contacted kidney disease very early on in his life."

In 1977 Elaine left work to care for Glyn and there was hope he would pull through, but six weeks after a routine operation he died.

At that point Elaine had been out of work for a long time and because there was no financial support for widows she had to find another job.

Elaine started working for the Waterloo pub as a cleaner, but a friend soon got her a job at Ringland workingman's club.

"I was very nervous because Iíd never worked behind a bar before but it was a great experience, and the characters were something else."

It was a trip the Ringland club embarked on to Barry Island where Elaine met her second husband, over a plate of chips.

"We saw him sitting on his own nursing a plate of chips so me and my girls went over to join him, and we've never looked back since," she said.

Soon after marrying Bernard in 1983 Elaine took a job as a barmaid at The Lamb in Newport city centre where she remained until last Friday, when she pulled her last pint. She decided to call it a day because of leg pains.

Elaine will be sorely missed by both the punters and the landlord, Trevor Lewis, who has told her he recons she'll be back.

But she said: "When I started their was less competition, now there's the Walkabout and Wetherspoons who can afford to sell alcohol cheaper."

But its not all bad according to Elaine: "The Riverfront Theatre is something to be proud of, and the city is definitely on the up."

She also cites the different nationalities now in the city as an indicator of change.

She said: "Newport today has a different mix, I don't mind but you can't say that today's Newport is the same. Because it's not."

According to Elaine The Lamb is the last bastion of old Newport, where there's continuity and regular punters you know, trust and can enjoy a pint with.

She said: "Newport used to be beautiful because of its simplicity. At the moment it's a bit too complicated."