We survived the Aberfan disaster - but were told to never speak of it again

Janett Bickley almost stayed home from school on the morning of 21 October 1966.

The eight-year-old had recently recovered from pneumonia, but she was determined to go in for the last day before half-term.

Shortly after taking her seat at Pantglas Junior School, Janett was buried beneath tonnes of coal slurry from a collapsing tip. It engulfed the classrooms and killed 144 people, including 116 children.

Sixty years later, Janett is one of the many survivors of the Aberfan disaster whose lives were shaped by what they experienced.

"I've always wanted to do something to pay back to the community because I think I owed something to the community, because I lived," she said.

The sentiment is echoed by other Aberfan survivors, who went on to devote much of their lives to helping others through education, public service, community work and charity.

Janett has a clear memory of the aftermath of the disaster.

A classmate dug her out from the wreckage. She recalls climbing through broken rafters before joining a queue of children waiting to be pulled through a window to safety.

Later, she discovered that she had been the only child from her street to return home from school that day.

Despite the shared trauma, survivors rarely discussed what had happened.

"We were lucky, 'You lived, don't speak about it ever again'," Janett recalled being told.

The message was repeated across many households.

"It wasn't discussed at all," she added. "We were way into our 30s or 40s before we even talked about it for the first time together."

For Denise Morgan, the silence came after tragedy struck her own family.

She had recently started grammar school after passing the 11-plus examination when her younger sister, Annette, was killed in the disaster. The shock and grief changed everything.

"When I came to take my O-levels as they were then, I failed them all miserably apart from one," she said. "The family were traumatised. My parents were traumatised."

For decades, many survivors kept their memories private. Janett said children had often been encouraged to look forward rather than back.

"We all went to a psychiatrist, and we never spoke about it, even to the psychiatrist," said Denise.

It was not until she was an adult, when former classmates began sharing their experiences, that some found relief.

"When we finally broke that seal of talking about it, it healed us, in a way," she said.

Denise said many survivors had gone on to lead successful lives, while others had continued to struggle.

"You can see it in some people in Aberfan. They have come through it. Others have not, and suffered for many years."

For Denise, helping others began with a promise she made long before the disaster.

As a pupil at Pantglas, she had been inspired by her teachers and decided she wanted to follow in their footsteps.

"I knew at 11 that I wanted to be a teacher," she said.

But the path was far from straightforward.

Grief affected her education, but she remained determined, and eventually she qualified, became a head teacher and later received an MBE for services to education.

Much of her career was spent supporting children from disadvantaged backgrounds and encouraging them to believe in their own potential.

"I often told my story," she said, sharing with schoolchildren: "You can be anything you want to be."

Looking back today, she still thinks about the teachers she lost.

"They all helped to save many of the children that are alive today."

The lessons learned in Aberfan have since been shared with other communities following major disasters.

Jeff Edwards, who was one of the last children to be pulled alive from Pantglas School, said survivors of Aberfan had been contacted following the Hillsborough disaster, the Grenfell Tower fire and the Manchester Arena bombing.

"They always contact us in Aberfan after the damage to see how we survived, how we coped," he said.

"It's good to help others get through major disasters and traumas."

Jeff believes his own response to Aberfan emerged years after the disaster.

After establishing a career in accountancy and working in London, he returned home in the mid-1990s to find many local young people struggling in the aftermath of pit closures and industrial decline.

"I think the reason I really came back was those youngsters hanging about the street with no future. It was the second generation who were being lost to the community," he said.

Many had left school without qualifications. Some were involved in crime, drugs and alcohol, and two local young people had taken their own lives.

Using grants from organisations including Children in Need, Jeff helped to create projects focused on literacy, support for parents, employment and youth engagement. Some went on to transform lives, helping people into jobs and university.

Jeff became adept at accessing grants and even had a donation from the late queen for one of his projects to help young people, though he cannot reveal the amount she sent.

"I've begged, stolen and borrowed to ensure that we've got the right resources for the young people of the village," he said.

Later, as an independent councillor and later leader of the council, he helped secure funding for projects across Merthyr Tydfil and championed investment in education and community development.

Looking back, he believes helping others also helped him.

"By helping them, I was helping myself, in terms of my own recovery process," he said.

David Davies was sitting at his desk in Pantglas School when the tip collapsed. The debris knocked him unconscious.

"I was brought out and was initially placed with the deceased bodies and covered with a blanket in the playground area, until someone thought they saw my foot move," David recalled.

"I was evidently still alive and taken off to hospital where I was in intensive care for a little while. But actually I managed to get out of hospital in time for bonfire night."

David was the subject of photos by the renowned photographer Chuck Rapoport, who visited Aberfan in the days after the disaster.

After recovering from serious head injuries, David attended a school outside the village and believed that separation from former classmates may have sheltered him from some of the trauma experienced by others.

"I did not witness anything that might have been going on around the school because I was unconscious. So I never had any ongoing issues with PTSD or anything like that, and thankfully I'd never had any long-term issues with my head injuries either," he said.

David studied at Aberystwyth and Cambridge before building a successful career in international law.

But after returning home, he increasingly devoted his time to public service.

He became a magistrate, served with housing organisations and has spent 26 years as chair of the Aberfan memorial charity, which is responsible for preserving Aberfan's memorial sites.

What motivates David remains clear.

"I'm clearly grateful to have survived an experience that half of my classmates did not," he said.

"It's really in their honour and in their memory that I'm driven forward, and have been over the last 26 years, to achieve fitting memorial sites both here at the memorial garden and the cemetery and other memorials to victims, so that they will be of a standard that will be fitting of their memory and acceptable to the community both here in Wales and further afield."

He added: "I think the Queen put it in the words of 'an indomitable spirit' in the community. And I think that really sums it up in terms of what this community has gone through, how it's recovered, and the difference it's made to the community as a whole."

For Janett, the urge to give something back intensified during the Covid-19 pandemic.

After a 30-year career in the pharmaceutical industry, she found herself looking out of her window and thinking about the isolation and loneliness affecting the community around her.

Her campaign to install a Christmas tree in Aberfan soon grew into something much bigger.

Working with volunteers, she helped secure funding for Christmas lights, community celebrations, carnival events and local projects designed to bring people together.

"The wellbeing of the community was ripped apart and it took a long time to build back up," she says.

Today she also campaigns for the future of community facilities, supports local scouting and is working to ensure a community events organisation can continue after she steps back.

"All of a sudden the community is getting together and I love it," she said.

The disaster itself remains with her.

Recently she had an image of a clock, frozen at 09:13 on 21 October 1966, tattooed on her arm.

"It is with me for life," said Janett.

Survivors and families who were affected by the Aberfan disaster have all done very different things with their lives, but many have found ways to honour those children who never had the chance to grow up.

For Janett, it comes back to a simple belief.

"We feel lucky," she said.

"We're lucky we lived. Let's make this work. Let's do something for the community, because we're obviously here for a reason."

If you or someone you know has been affected by the issues raised in this story, a list of organisations which can provide help and support is available via BBC Action Line.