WHEN Tommy Moore felt the intense blast of heat on his face from Consett steelworks' final, strange cargo of molten metal he was thinking hard.

And, as the final explosion of red dust shot up into the sky twenty years to the day, there's no doubt those thoughts were echoed by just about everyone else in the small town.

Thoughts about their own futures and families first and foremost - but also about what was to become of their tight community facing the loss of another 4,000 jobs.

For on that afternoon of September 12, 1980, Consett became the first one-industry town to lose the very source of what had brought it to life. The first of a grim cull of major industrial closures that would throw millions on the dole.

And there were plenty of prophesies of doom at the time, summed up by the protestors who carried a coffin with a flag bearing the legend, 'Don't Bury Consett'.

But the more immediate affect noticed by Tommy and thousands of others in the town, was the end of the red dust.

Tommy, now the 60-year-old chairman of the Derwentdale History Society, said: "It was incredible looking back. It hung over the whole town and had been part of what life was here for generations."

Fellow steel man Billy Robson also remembered the dust: "You couldn't wash it off yourself after work. If the wind changed, your mum's washing would have to come in and go straight back in the wash. Cars would be ruined and what it did to peoples' lungs doesn't bear thinking about."

And yet both Billy and Tommy remember life in the steelworks with great affection.

Billy, now a YMCA senior worker, who was just 25 when he lost his job, said: "The crack was unreal. The laughs were something else. Everyone knew each other and got on together. I still dream about it. I can still picture where everyone sat.

"I was one of those who panicked and sold my house straight away. I had a young family and didn't know what to do and wanted the money. There was a lot like me then. Every last family was connected to the works. Consett Iron Company was Consett as far as I'm concerned."

Billy's panic attack was felt by many across the area as the economic situation went from bad to worse. Further blows for Consett and the surrounding area made some feel that some higher force had got it in for the town.

About 3,000 jobs had already gone from the works in the years preceding the closure and a further 700 were lost at Howsgill Plate Mill. Shortly afterwards 1,500 were to go at the nearby bearing factory at Annfield Plain and coal mines continued to close for the next 13 years until none were left.

With 28 per cent unemployment in the district - 40 per cent in some pockets, a rapidly declining population and rising suicide rate, it seemed that the doom merchants who had carried that coffin had it right. Consett was about to die.

And yet that hasn't happened. In fact, if you listen to leading members of Derwentside District Council, the future is decidedly bright.

Leader of the council Alex Watson points to the fact that the unemployment rate is under 8 per cent - not much higher than the national average. He also notes that the population, which dropped from about 105,000 in 1980 to under 85,000, has begun to rise again. About 3,800 new homes will have been built by April next year.

"It was a desperate situation at the time all right," Coun Watson concedes, "but we refused to die. We got tens of millions of investment and have attracted jobs here. We have turned the place around and there's a much cleaner environment.

"We were left with a mountain to climb and we're only half way there. But the situation is certainly much brighter than ever it was before."

But Ray Hudson, a geography professor from Durham University, isn't quite so positive that all is now well in Consett.

Mr Hudson, who conducted an in-depth economic survey of the town in the early Nineties, said Consett was an extreme example of severe economic changes which have happened throughout the country. He said: "The truth is we don't know exactly how the people have survived or how the town is doing. For a start the statistics should be challenged. Even if there are more jobs most of them won't offer full time work for men."

He added: "Unlike in similar areas on the continent, Consett has been left by the Government to survive alone. The local politicians, who have lost huge business rates, have had their revenue from council taxes capped from the Government, and have faced a huge population loss, can only do so much. It needs national investment."

"At least the Thatcher Government showed an interest. They knew if Consett turned itself around they could claim a propaganda victory. But neither they nor the current Government will invest in places like Consett in the way they will in something like the Dome. But still the place survives - and there is always hope."

For ex-steel men Billy and Tommy, there is more than mere hope for the town. For them Consett is a living, breathing place with a future.

Tommy added: "The people here have coped extremely well. You still find that community spirit which was there when they closed down the works. They'll never take that. All we need is something for the younger ones, something that pays a decent wage, something that will keep them in this beautiful place of Derwentside.