Matt Owens Rees

The Story of a Welsh Godfather. Most readers like to read short pieces with some photos.

Although not directly linked to Thailand, there are some very strong parallels between this true story and how this tropical country functions. The reality is that mafias are everywhere we look. Not just in Thailand and Wales but throughout the world. Governments, Big Businesses, Individuals: all show traces of acting in mafia-type ways.

The Beyond the Bamboo Curtain series will take you though this fascinating tale over the next few days, and I’d love to hear your comments on The Story of a Welsh Godfather in the course of our reading journey together.

My first contact with a Mafia boss was when I was in my primary school in Wales, and just 8 years old. At that time, I knew nothing about mafias or how the world operated. I knew nothing of politics, corruption or the real ways of the world.

This school which Johnny and I attended. We learned, years later, that the Godfather made significant contributions to the school.

The photo was taken about the time I attended. I might even be one of the boys shown playing in the yard.

My best friend in school was Johnny Illsley. He was one year younger than me but he had been moved up to my class.

Johnny’s family lived in a large house in the coastal village of Ogmore-by-Sea in Wales and, one day, we were playing in the gardens. We ran up to meet his grand-dad on his return from his office in Pencoed, South Wales, from which he ran his many businesses.

Neither of us knew at the time that his grand-dad was the Mafia godfather, J.O.Williams. A rich and very powerful businessman with international and government connections dating back to the 1930s.

J.O. , as he was known by everyone, was born on 28 March 1886 and died on 6 July 1963 aged 77. His wife, Ethel Kate Williams (née Cobb) died on 20 March 1956 aged 69.

This photo is of J.O.Williams and his eldest son Eric Williams. Although the photo was taken on or before 1940, this is exactly how J.O. looked when I first met him in 1957. He hadn’t aged one bit.

Although J.O. and his family were well respected locally, no-one knew much about the family members. The story of a Welsh godfather and his mafia connections was completely unknown. The “respect” was at a distance. There was an aura around them, particularly “J.O.”. You never spoke first. You instinctively “knew your place”.

Mafias can be philanthropic.

J.O’s family were generous to the local community without getting overly involved. You always felt there was a “barrier” between you and the family, as if they lived on a different plane from the rest of the community. It wasn’t an unpleasant barrier, but it certainly existed.

The family were, and remain, understandably secretive about its past. That is true of many families, whether mafia or not. The tendency is for later generations to use their wealth, in whatever way it was obtained originally, for charitable donations within their community.

Certainly, that was true of the godfather’s daughter, Doreen Illsley née Williams, and in later years, true of Johnny Illsley himself. Mafia families are often philanthropic, once they’ve made their fortunes.

Realising who Johnny’s grandfather really was

My friend, Johnny Illsley, had access to the family’s papers and photos only long after J.O.’s death. He saw them for the first time only on his mother’s death. They would have thrown much light on the story of a Welsh godfather.

Only after talking to Johnny, and piecing enough facts from my childhood contact with the family, did I realise that this was a traditional mafia family. They were not considered gangsters or criminals. They just operated and lived their lives in a different way from the rest of us.

But what of the “uncle” who worked with J.O. in his company operations in Wales, and lived in the family residence, The Cottage, Ogmore-by-Sea. Always referred to as “Uncle John” by childhood friend, John Illsley, and myself. I have no photos of him, but he bears a striking resemblance to Eric Williams, the Godfather’s dead son.

Remember, I spent all my primary school years in Wales, in close contact with this family.

If ever there was a misnomer for a house, it is for “The Cottage”. It was the largest house in Ogmore-by-Sea.

J.O. and Uncle John had the entire upper floor while J.O.’s daughter, Doreen, and her husband, “Lofty” Illsley, lived on the ground floor of the house. Her lifelong friend was Bunty James but I never met her.

The Godfather’s home in Ogmore-by-Sea

The house has not altered much since the time I knew it. The garage doors have been changed and the gate is new. The gardens have more lawn areas now than previously. The beautiful shrubberies and flower beds have gone.

The Godfather’s only daughter.

Doreen’s full name was Katie Doreen Illsley (née Williams). Born in 1910 and died in 1996 aged 86. Johnny would have been about 47 years old when she died. It was probably only then that he had access to family correspondence and photos.

Doreen Illsley with her friend, Bunty James, on the right of the photo.

The photo was taken in 1935, but Johnny’s mother looks exactly as I remember her. Maybe, it’s a family trait that they seemingly don’t age. J.O. never seemed to age.

If you google the address, The Cottage, Ogmore-by-Sea, you will see a rear view of the house from the main road. The house was much larger than it appears. In the 1960s there were uninterrupted views from the front of the house, over their extensive gardens and land, to the Bristol Channel.

The land between the house and the coast was owned by the Godfather but rented out to a local farmer. However, they retained right of access. The Godfather’s son-in-law, “Lofty” Illsley installed a small changing facility near the boundary wall for their use when they wanted to bathe in the sea.

They would drive down from the house quite often in the summer months. It was too far to walk. We would then cross the wall and within two minutes Johnny and I would be playing on the sand or bathing. The Godfather did allow one house, but only one, to be built on his land before most of it was sold off, much later, to build an extensive housing development, (Marine Walk, Marine Drive etc.).

It was the house of “Boss” Williams, the local headmaster (and not a relative). It was set well back from the Godfather’s residence. At the same time, Johnny Illsley was moved up a class.

Some Moments I Can Remember
Here are some true events at which Johnny and I were present. The story of a Welsh godfather

Johnny and I being taken to a local rugby game by his grand-dad. While the Godfather parked his Armstrong Siddeley car, we dutifully queued up for tickets to the field. He called us over and bypassed the queue. Johnny’s granddad just said “J.O.Williams, J.O.Williams” as we all walked through the turnstiles unchallenged.

After watching the game in the directors’ box, we all went into the teams’ dining area for lunch. Johnny and I noticed that the usually rude and loud joking and banter from the players was absent. They were all aware that they were in the presence of the Godfather.

“I’ve got a banger. I’ve got a banger.”
At a bonfire night party, Uncle John running through the crowd with a lighted firework in his hand, throwing it only seconds before it went off. Johnny and I were scared stiff.

The J.O. family often invited friends and locals to festivities such as this. The family did not make close friends outside their circle. But, they were happy to put on events where villagers were warmly welcomed and made to feel at ease.

Firework “bangers”. The trick is to throw them before they explode in your hand, Uncle John was an expert at this.

“I don’t want the fish. We only need chips.” 
Johnny’s parents took Johnny and I for a weekend break in their campervan. “Lofty” Illsley, Johnny’s Dad, went to the local fish and chip shop to get some chips to accompany the fish that Doreen Illsley had prepared. They wouldn’t serve him chips on their own. So, he paid for the fish and chips and threw the fish away.

Does the story of a Welsh godfather tell us anything about mafia families? I think it does.

The rugby game incident showed J.O.’s supreme confidence and realisation of his powerful godfather position. He commanded and received respect.

Uncle John and the rest of the family showed how a mafia family creates a presence within a community without getting overly involved but coming across in a friendly and positive way. Gaining respect for the family. There was an understanding that the godfather would help those who respected him if they ever needed help or were in trouble.

“Lofty” Illsley, by just throwing the fish away showed, in a curious way, a steadfastness and unwavering of purpose. Totally confident in himself. All are mafia traits, illustrated in the story of a Welsh godfather.

This is how mafias are run in the everyday world. They are businesses like any other. As we see in Mario Puzo’s “The Godfather”, the methods used were sometimes justified in order to keep the family’s reputation and respect intact against what they saw as an unfair society run by a rich establishment that only looked after their own interests.

The story of a Welsh godfather continues: A Summary Time-Frame and List of References

John Osborn Williams (1886 – 1963): From Cardiff Timber Clerk to Labrador Tycoon

1. the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:early life

John Osborn Williams was born on 28 March 1886 at 46 George Street, Cardiff, the youngest of eight children of Silas and Mary Williams. Known as “Jack” within his family, he left school at fourteen and entered the timber‑export trade as an apprentice.

By fifteen he was a commercial clerk, a role later shared by his brothers Hiram and Arthur, giving him the practical foundation for the logging enterprises he would eventually create【1]. This background experience gave the Godfather from Wales the impetus he needed to build his mafia empire.

2. the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:Building a Business in Britain (1908‑1921)

• 1908 – Joined Evans & Reed, a Cardiff firm that exported coal and pit‑props.
• 1914 – Served in the Baltic during World I, then spent several months in Montreal and the Dominion of Newfoundland, gaining exposure to North‑American timber markets.
• 1921 – Secured a loan from Franklin Thomas & Co. (Cardiff) and founded the J. O. Williams Company, expanding into timber‑trading and shipping agencies【2】.

3. the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:The Labrador Opportunity (1934‑1935)

In June 1934 Williams sailed aboard the S.S. Sylvia from Halifax to St John’s. During the voyage he met Sir John Hope Simpson, Commissioner of Natural Resources for Newfoundland, and Thomas Lodge, Commissioner of Public Utilities.

Their enthusiasm, combined with Williams’s reputation as a “visionary‑speculator‑businessman” (Lodge’s description to the Dominions Office), secured a partnership that would launch the Labrador Development Company Ltd. (LDC)【3】.

The government’s official line framed the venture as a means to create stable, year‑round employment in a region previously dependent on the cod fishery.

By the end of 1934 roughly 520 men—including southern Inuit workers and unemployed Newfoundlanders on government passes—had been recruited to log pit‑prop timber along the Alexis River【4】.

4. the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:The Company Town of Port Hope Simpson

• June 1934 – The first managerial party arrived; a provisional settlement of about 70 families sprang up.
• Winter 1935 – Only a community hall, a seven‑room medical clinic, a general store and a combined church/school building existed at Mill Point Cove.

Williams promised rapid construction of 400 houses, but the promised dwellings never materialised. By July 1934 already 225 lumbermen had returned to St John’s, citing inadequate accommodation, poor food rations (mostly beans and porridge), and a company store that inflated prices while prohibiting outside trade【5】.

5. the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:Growing Tensions and the “Omertà” of Silence

The workers’ grievances were formally examined by Police Superintendent O’Neil, who concluded there were no valid grounds—a decision likely influenced by wartime pressure to keep people employed at any cost【6】.

Williams responded with a strict monopoly: all provisions had to be purchased through the company store, and any independent trader was swiftly expelled. His son Eric Arthur Williams was dispatched to enforce the ban, ordering that contraband goods be returned to St John’s【7】.

The atmosphere resembled the Italian omertà: a code of silence that discouraged any questioning of authority, reinforced both by the company’s economic grip and by the governments’ reluctance to jeopardise wartime morale【8】.

6. the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:The 3 February 1940 Fire

In the early hours of 3 February 1940, a house fire in Port Hope Simpson killed Eric Arthur Williams, his wife Olga d’Anitoff Williams (grand‑daughter of a Russian count), and their infant daughter Erica d’Anitoff Williams.

• No death certificates, medical reports, or coroner’s inquest records have ever been located in the Newfoundland archives.
• The Royal Canadian Mounted Police Serious Crimes Unit reopened the case only in August 2002, thirty‑nine years after John O. Williams’s own death, citing “possible foul play”【9】.

Correspondence in the UK National Archives suggests that the fire may have been linked to employee grievances, but no definitive evidence has surfaced【10】.

7. the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:Post‑Fire Actions and the Erasure of Olga

Immediately after the tragedy, Williams ordered the original tombstone bearing Olga’s name removed and replaced it with a granite memorial shipped from the Preseli Hills of South Wales—noticeably omitting any reference to her【11】. He also forbade any discussion of his daughter‑in‑law, describing her as “of poor character” in private letters【12】.

These actions, coupled with the extensive surveillance of Williams by British officials, illustrate how seriously the authorities regarded his influence and the lengths they were willing to go to contain information.

8. the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:Governmental Back‑lash and the Public Inquiry (1944‑1945)

By January 1935 the LDC’s exploitation of the Labrador forests was evident, prompting the appointment of a government director to its board in 1940 and a public inquiry in 1944.

• Chief Justice Dunfield (1945) concluded that Williams’s venture suffered from chronic under‑capitalisation and that both the company and the governments had failed to appreciate the true costs of the project【13】.
• While Dunfield placed primary blame on Williams for financial mismanagement, he also criticised the British and Newfoundland administrations for naïvely trusting a “shrewd businessman” without adequate due‑diligence【14】.

The inquiry’s findings were quietly buried by the Dominions Office, which preferred to avoid public embarrassment【15】.

9. the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:Final Settlement and Exit (1946‑1948)

Despite the inquiry’s censure, the British Treasury offered Williams generous concessions:

• Interest on pre‑June 1940 loans waived until November 1945.
• Export‑tax exemption on timber from 1946‑1955 (followed by a modest 0.25 cents per cord tax thereafter).
• A fresh timber contract in 1946, together with a £100 000 loan on 15 October 1946 under highly favourable terms【16】.

Williams leveraged these benefits to settle outstanding debts, but by 1948 he withdrew from Labrador entirely, leaving the settlement to collapse and the remaining residents to seek livelihoods elsewhere.

10. the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:Legacy

John Osborn Williams died on 6 July 1963 at the age of 77. His life illustrates a paradox: a man who built a lucrative, government‑backed enterprise in a remote region, yet whose methods provoked suspicion, labor unrest, and a series of opaque investigations that continue to fascinate historians.

“When I restarted at Hope Simpson in 1945 I was faced with a derelict township; everything that could be turned into cash was sold or stolen, down to the office furniture.” — Williams, 1945 letter【17】

The story of the Labrador Development Company remains a cautionary tale of how unchecked ambition, governmental naiveté, and secretive contracts can shape—and sometimes scar—a community for generations.

This true story also shows the importance of understanding the background of the Godfather from Wales and his dealings with government.

Here’s a link to a piece on mafias that I wrote earlier which you may find interesting.

(If Ctrl and Click pressed together don’t work, just copy and paste the https address into your browser)

https://mattowensrees.com/2025/10/13/mafias-are-everywhere/

and this from an independent source, British firms (organised crime) – Wikipedia

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the STORY OF A WELSH GODFATHER:Footnote placeholders

1. UK National Archives, FO 123/45 – Birth & early apprenticeship records.
2. Company registration documents, Companies House, 1921.
3. Correspondence between Williams, Sir John Hope Simpson, and Thomas Lodge, UK National Archives, FO 678/12.
4. Employment rolls, LDC personnel files, 1934.
5. Port Hope Simpson Workers’ Complaint Report, Newfoundland Department of Labour, 1934‑35.
6. Police report by Superintendent O’Neil, RNWMP Archives, 1934.
7. Letter from Eric Williams to Keith Yonge, LDC internal memos, 1934.
8. Analysis of wartime censorship policies, British Ministry of Information, 1939‑45.
9. RCMP Serious Crimes Unit case file, RCMP Annual Report 2002‑03.
10. FO 789/34 – Correspondence indicating possible employee motive.
11. Photograph of replacement tombstone, Family archive, 1940.
12. Private letter to Keith Yonge, UK National Archives, FO 890/21.
13. Chief Justice Dunfield’s Report, Public Inquiry of 1945, vol. I.
14. Dunfield, Judgment, pp. 112‑115.
15. Dominions Office internal memorandum, FO 456/78, 1945.
16. Treaty of financial concessions, British Treasury Records, 1946.
17. Williams, Personal letter to Sir John Hope-Simpson, Family Archive, 1945

The story of a Welsh godfather will continue with a brief outline of how Johnny’s grandfather started out in business, his interactions with governments, and how he exploited opportunities that enabled him to become so rich and powerful.

It would be great if you make a short reply to these stories in the comment box below. In that way, your views, ideas, and opinions of the story of a Welsh godfather will get a wider audience among my other readers and followers. It’s a win-win for everyone.