No Whispered Warning

 Dear reader,

The Aberfan disaster was a tragic colliery spoil tip collapse that occurred on October 21, 1966, in the Welsh village of Aberfan.  A large mass of coal waste, destabilized by heavy rain, slid down a mountainside and engulfed Pantylas Junior School and several houses, killing 116 children and 28 adults.

The disaster devastated the close-knit community, claiming lives of a generation of children and causing immense grief and trauma. Despite the best efforts of rescuers, including villagers, miners and emergency services the rescue operation was hampered by the sheer volume of debris and the  unstable conditions.

TheAberfan disaster was one of the worst mining-related disasters in British history, and its impact was felt across the nation and internationally. The disaster led to significant changes in safety regulations for mining operations and spoil tip management, and it highlighted the importance of community involvement in decisions that affect their lives.

Many survivors and community members continue to grapple with psychological scars of the disaster and the memory of Aberfan serves as a reminder of the human cost of industrial accidents.

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I remember hearing about Aberfan disaster on the news and crying in disbelief.

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From Dorothy Wordsworth  July 5th 1802 in Westmorland

'A very sweet morning.   William stayed some time in the orchard.....It came on a heavy rain, and we could not go to Dove Nest as we had intended ....The roses in the garden are fretted and battered and quite spoiled, the honey suckle, though in its glory, is sadly teazed.   The peas are beaten down.  The scarlet beans want sticking.  The garden is overrun with weeds.'

From John Ruskin   July 12th 1847 in Warwickshire

'Much struck......in coming from London by the lovely green of everything; certainly England gains more by summer or rather loses more in winter than any country I have seen in both seasons.'

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No whispered warning

 

 

Catlin skips to school,

October leaves, red and yellow

fall across her path,

but do not whisper

warnings in her ear.

 

At breaktime Morwena falls

playing tag, and the children laugh.

All at once, from the valley,

an ominous noise,

engulfs the happy playground sounds,

as the derelict monster slagheap

starts to slip, slowly at first,

then gathering speed,

faster, faster, faster.

 

The blue sky blackens,

the mountain of dross,

cinders and mud,

rolls and trembles and shifts

as the angry giant roars,

burying the village school

under countless tons of coal.

 

 

Dust hangs in the air,

and silence, and more silence

then screams, and more screams,

tears and disbelief;

and the leaves, red and yellow,

still papering the ground.

 

 

 

 

With very best wishes, Patricia