British Expatriate Network

I was nine years old at the time of the Aberfan disaster - the same age as many of the victims. It is as sad to remember it now as it was at the time. Unlike many of my Kentish schoolfriends, I knew the area and knew about slag heaps. I found this poem on a website dedicated to the history of mining in the Rhondda.
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'The Day our Valley Stopped Singing"


"Come on now, Davy, you'll be late for school."
At eight came his mam's last warning.
"Young Megan next door has long since gone.
You've got to shape up in the mornings."
Through the damp and misty streets he ran
T'ward the sound of the school bell's ringing.
He ran for his life, yet he ran to his death,
For the streets that he raced were of Aberfan
On the day our valley stopped singing.

In the classrooms sat the future of Wales
At the Pantglas Junior School.
Young Davy sat with a group of his friends
At their desks at the back of the room.
A full day of lessons ahead, so they thought,
Of arithmetic, reading and writing.
But it wasn't to be, for this was to be
The day our valley stopped singing
And the world kissed our children goodbye.

It was soon after nine on the twenty-first day
Of October of year sixty six,
That the call went out to emergency teams
To hurry with shovels and picks.
The Junior school and some nearby homes
Were the object of their desperation,
And the reason our valley stopped singing
Was soon to be shared with the nation.
And the horror was just beginning.

A slag heap high on the mountainside
That towered above the school,
Had begun to creep in the morning's mist
Unhindered by God, man, and tool.
There was nothing on earth that could hold it back;
Small wonder our valley stopped singing,
For that hump-backed monster draped in black
Continued its slide, unabating,
Till it totally covered the school.

All fire brigades and Civil Defence
Were rushed to the ravaged scene.
There were miners, teachers, and parents,
And police and ambulance men.
On the day our valley stopped singing
It was full of volunteers,
And though the rain fell through the day,
It couldn't out-fall the tears
The results of their labours were bringing.

Roughly half of the twelve score pupils were safe,
While the others were smothered or missing.
Each rescuer toiled with the strength of two
On the day our valley stopped singing.
With spades they shovelled, with hands they clawed
At the quagmire for signs of the living,
And every live child was ample reward
For the sweat, and the toil, and the effort,
And the time they were selflessly giving.

The medical staff at St. Tydfil's
Had not before known such distress,
And this day our valley stopped singing
Was to bring even more grief, not less.
After only an hour it was gravely feared
That the trapped childrens' chances were slimming,
And then, near the stroke of eleven o'clock,
The last of the children still living
Were pulled from the sludge where they'd mired.

They'd recovered the sixtieth body by ten
Of the evening our valley stopped singing,
And they'd pull lifeless forms out again and again
By the seventh and last day of digging.
One hundred and sixteen dear children,
And twenty-eight adults would die,
And after their bodies were cleaned of the slime
They were put in the care of their loved ones
To be buried a second time.

On the day our valley stopped singing
We recalled pit disasters of yore,
But the impact was not quite so chilling
For the victims, the miners, had been more mature,
And had known of the risks they were taking.
What now touched all the hearts of the nation
Were the maimed and the dead girls and boys,
And the people responded with kindness,
With donations of money and toys.

Young Davy lost his life that day,
And Megan the use of her legs,
And even those children who came out unscathed
Had suffered the loss of their friends.
Life's not been the same in Aberfan
Since those hopes and young bodies were crushed,
And it's not been the same in a certain two homes,
For Davy can't dawdle, and Megan can't rush
Since the day our valley stopped singing.

Author's note The ascending order through verses 1 - 9 of the
phrase "our valley stopped singing" symbolizes the souls of the
children ascending into Heaven. In verse 10 it is used to end the
poem.

Norman Thomas, Canada

Wow how sad, I have never heard of this disaster, it bought a few tears. cry

That's a very emotional poem.

I too remember it very well. I was 11 at the time and clearly remember some of the horrifying pictures in the daily papers. Growing up, Aberfan was suddenly known by everyone. Without this disaster I'm sure Aberfan would be an unknown town to any outsiders. Without doubt that is the way I am sure everyone would prefer.

That was a very sad time cry

I had heard of this but never knew too much about it. It was before my time.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aberfan

The fact that a search for 'Aberfan' on Wikipedia produces the above page with no redirection options for the village itself only underlines your point, cel.

I was just 3 and have no memory of it when this happened but I have always known of it.
The poem is very touching and tells the tale very well.

And the end to the poem is very true
"Life's not been the same in Aberfan
Since those hopes and young bodies were crushed,
And it's not been the same in a certain two homes,
For Davy can't dawdle, and Megan can't rush
Since the day our valley stopped singing."

I too was too young to know about this (I was only 1 at the time) but I was born not too far away from there (Caerphilly) and have passed Aberfan on many an occasion. The silence, the whole feel about the place is ghostly. Life stopped there on that day and it has never come back. I don't know if it ever will.

It may sound harsh to put statistics on something as emotional as this, but think about it

116 children killed, who if they'd married people from outside the village would have made 232 potential parents, who could have had 2.4 children = 557 children born in the early 80s, who then if they'd brought in outside husbands would have made 1114 parents and had 2674 grandchildren of the kids that were killed. A total of 232 grandparents, 1114 parents and 2674 children, over 4,000 people are now missing from that village.

Not to mention the psychological damage of something like that happening in your village. It must hang like a cloud over it.

Those of you who pray, pray for the village of Aberfan, pray for the black cloud to be lifted from it, pray for light to enter the region again and pray that kids will again be able to sing that wonderful song again.

I remember it. I had been here six months and was shocked and saddened by it.

Wasn't alive then but my mum told me about it at some point and I remember looking it up years ago.

Extremely tragic episode - the poem really does capture a lot of the sadness that must have been felt at the time.

This pic was on the non-hyphen site.

I remember it. People from everywhere, especially miners went to help. I was listening to radio 4 the other day and they did a program about it. One of Aberfan's leaders was saying he would prefer it if people thought of something positive when they think of Aberfan, those who experienced it have made great efforts to put the tragedy behind them, whilst not forgetting, they want a positice attitude for the children and the future.

I Remember the disaster the name of the village but not the date .

to those who lost loved one all them years ago i hope as the years have past the pain they felt has been diminished .

Here is a site i found with accounts from those who witnessed the disaster .

not easy reading unless you are strong of heart .

http//www.nuff.ox.ac.uk/politics/aberfan/home2.htm

That's a sentiment we can all get behind and no mistake.

/lighting a candle tonight for them