A year ago I put together a small story about the disaster at the mining village of Aberfan. Since writing the piece I have begun to have doubts about my memory of that day, what I seem to remember doing and what in reality I was doing at that time of my life don’t match, I had already left school when the disaster occurred but I could have returned there to resit an examination perhaps?. I know I was definitely on a bus when I first heard of the event but it may not necessarily have been on my way from school as I recall. However, as it’s the 50th Anniversary of the sad occasion I have re-blogged amending some details of the original post and adding a very recent photograph of Aberfan Cemetery from the camera of Neil Holman.
Everyone of my age and older is able to remember exactly where they were when President Kennedy was shot, and so it is with another event with people from Wales, we all remember exactly where we were when we heard of the disaster at Aberfan, when a coal tip slid down a mountainside and buried a school and the nearby houses.
It was raining, and had been for days, travelling from school had taken on a new pattern, I was using the bus. I didn’t normally do this, I invariably walked home even though it was about two miles, but the prospect of arriving home drenched made the bus a comfortable alternative. As you know from previous posts I was madly keen on buses so travelling on them was something to be relished. To get home I’d first take one of the buses provided by the school, we had to…
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