MORNING SERIAL

MY experiences during the strike (I was a student at the time) woke a political passion within me that was to last a lifetime. Surely, I thought, if the raw power of government can do such harm to people and communities, such long-lasting damage, then it can only be a duty to fight to capture that power and use it instead to protect places like the South Wales Valleys. And even though the pits were by then soon to disappear, the better values of the people that had lived about them, their humane and singular culture, still bore lessons for the future – for the kind of people we were set to become.

I was elected to the Welsh Assembly in 1999 to represent Merthyr Tydfil & Rhymney, the constituency which includes my home village. I was to spend 17 years as an Assembly Member, and at the forefront of my mind throughout all that time was the still desperate need to mitigate the effects of that sudden collapse of the local economy brought about by the pit closure programme of the 1980s. More than that, I felt that there were values still, that Aberfan had taught me, that TO HEAR THE SKYLARK’S SONG informed the choices to be made about the future, about the paths still to be chosen.

As part of my work in the Assembly I lobbied the then First Minister, Rhodri Morgan, for the return of the money taken from the people of Aberfan to pay for the clean-up operation of the Pantglas tip in the 1960s. Rhodri and his government, to their eternal credit, readily agreed. I insisted the sum allocated should be adjusted for inflation and any lost interest; I reckoned the sum to be around £2m. In 2007, the Welsh Government paid £1.5m into the Aberfan Memorial Charity and a further £0.5m into the Aberfan Educational Charity. I was glad to see it done, but it was not something to celebrate. It should never have been necessary.

Aberfan today is a quieter, greener place than it has been for any time since the 1860s. The old colliery site is grassed over and is awaiting a new housing development. The River Taff runs clear and clean; you can fish for trout there, and otters and kingfishers live along its banks. The tips are gone. Aberfan, and its people, remain.

THE END Tomorrow: Pigeon by Alys Conran.