In August 2000, Andy Welch (centre) and his friends enjoyed a holiday in Malia, Crete, captured in a memorable photograph. Pictured clockwise from top left were Dean, Andy, David, Nathan, and Lee. This image, a composite courtesy of Andy Welch and Guardian Design, represents a time of youthful innocence before tragedy struck their close-knit group.
The Pub That Changed Everything
For Andy Welch, The Crown Bard in Rhyl, Denbighshire – which closed permanently in 2017 – became an unexpected sanctuary during a period of profound personal loss. Located on the main road out of town, the pub had always been a local fixture, yet Andy had never ventured inside during his teenage years despite living just a five-minute walk away.
Local folklore suggested it was the domain of rugby enthusiasts, while the establishment directly opposite catered to the football crowd. However, it was not sport that drew Andy to the Bard for the first time, but what he describes as "shattering grief."
A Community in Mourning
At the age of 23, Andy faced the devastating loss of Lee, one of his closest friends. Lee, along with his twin brother Dean, had been a constant presence in Andy's life since childhood. They grew up as neighbours, attended school together, and shared countless hours playing football and tennis. As they matured, their bond deepened through nights out drinking, PlayStation sessions, and holidays abroad.
Tragically, Lee's life was cut short outside a hotel on the opposite side of Rhyl. After being punched, he fell onto stone steps and never regained consciousness. In the immediate aftermath, Andy's friendship group, already tightly knit, found themselves gravitating towards the back room of The Crown Bard.
This space became their unofficial headquarters, a place where they commandeered the pool table, dartboard, and jukebox. For weeks and months following Lee's death, much of their time was spent within those walls. No formal arrangements were needed; they simply knew they could drop in and find someone there. If not, they would wait patiently until others arrived.
Insulation from the Outside World
Meals became routine – a baguette for lunch, followed by a mixed grill for tea, served on a sizzling metal tray that felt "all fancy." Though the back room was not particularly comfortable, with its threadbare benches and dark green panelling, it offered something invaluable: privacy and seclusion.
Andy reflects on the claustrophobic nature of small-town life after a local tragedy, where gossip mills churn and it feels as though "all eyes are on you." The Bard's back room provided a protective bubble, entirely insulated from time, intrusive questions, and speculative chatter. Within that space, no one began sentences with "Well, I heard that..." – they all knew what had happened, and it was the last thing anyone wished to discuss.
Instead, their focus shifted to simple acts of kindness: determining whose round it was and who would take the next turn on the pool table. Here they were, aged 22 or 23, still young and ill-equipped, yet doing their utmost to comfort one another.
A Life Divided
Andy perceives his life as split into two distinct phases: before Lee's death and after it. The innocence and boundless possibility of youth gave way to the grim realities of adulthood, with the back room of The Crown Bard serving as the bridge between these two eras.
As the 21st anniversary of Lee's passing approaches, the group confronts the bleak milestone of him being gone longer than he was with them. The surviving friends have since grown up, settled down, started families, and accomplished things Lee never had the chance to experience.
The End of an Era
So much has changed since those sombre days. The Crown Bard itself entered a period of decline before finally closing its doors in 2017. It was subsequently demolished, erasing a physical landmark that held deep emotional significance. Andy's last memory of visiting was to watch the 2006 World Cup final, an experience that felt strangely dissonant, like "opening the door to something I had been trying to leave behind."
Today, a McDonald's drive-thru occupies the site where The Crown Bard once stood. Given Lee's fondness for McChicken sandwiches, Andy believes his friend would not have minded this transformation at all.
Reflecting on that period, beyond the lingering sadness, Andy feels a sense of pride in how his group of friends recognised their need to escape the oppressive atmosphere of grief and gossip. He remains grateful they found a place where they could do just that, forging an unbreakable bond in the process.
