On a more recent visit [to Maerdy], I was pleaed to see that vegetation had begun to hide some of the filthy, dangerous slag heaps. Others no longer existed, bulldozed away for safety's sake. I say 'dangerous' slag heaps because of the frequent slides, the most tragic of which took place on 21st October 1966. It resulted in one of the worst disasters in Britain's history.
In the nearby village of Aberfan, following heavy rainfalls, a virtual mountain of slag collapsed and slid down into the valley. The avalanche of mine detritus buried two of the village's schools, killing 144 people; 116 of the dead were children under the age of ten. Sadly, it took that terrible incident to spur the government into action, to begin ridding the valleys of those monstrous eyesores and the danger they threatened.
The mountains are now in the process of reforestation, and one of the larger mines has become a mining museum, but that is a pittance when set against what the valleys need. Crime and vandalism are rife, there is graffiti everywhere, and unemployment statistics remain among the highest in Britain.
The elderly are saddened to see forestry taking away their old berry-picking places and fewer sheep grazing on the hillsides; walking on the many ancient footpaths is no longer permitted. Yet in spite of the changes to their village and the surrounding mountains and valleys, those elderly people maintain the beautiful heart and spirit that I choose to remember.