There were hundreds searching. She's one of our own, they said . . . how a community came together in the hunt for missing April

All through the night you could hear them calling her name.
They turned out with hiking boots and walking sticks, dogs, torches, mobile phones and umbrellas. Especially umbrellas.
In the drenching rain and enveloping mist, through forests and open fields, down by the river and along virtually every street, this was how an ever-growing army of volunteers scoured town and countryside yesterday around the spot from which April Jones disappeared.

April, where are you? Squads of volunteers desperately search the countryside around the five-year-old's home in Machynlleth in west Wales

'Abducted': April Jones (left) has not been seen since Monday night when she 'willingly' got into a van after playing on her bike (pictured right outside her home)

By the time dawn broke there were hundreds of them – mothers, grandfathers, college students, mountain rescue specialists and just about anyone capable of reading a map.
To a watching nation she was a missing five-year-old with a captivating smile. In the outraged community of Machynlleth, they kept telling you: ‘She is one of our own.’
And so, with tireless devotion, an extraordinary mixture of ordinary people joined a comparatively small rural police force with limited resources to search for any clue to her disappearance, any sign of her abductor.

 

Farmer and local builder Geraint Davies was among those who dropped everything to help.
Yesterday I found him going round the town checking sheds, outbuildings and lock-up garages, clambering into back gardens and banging on doors.
The 41-year-old father to three stepchildren spent nearly two hours with a small group assigned to search an area behind the high street. I asked him what was he looking for. ‘Anywhere a scared little girl could be hiding,’ he said.

Distressing time: How the search for April has developed since Monday night

The hunt for one of their own: The ever-growing army of helpers was split into groups and sent into fields, the town, down by the river and along every street

Pulling together: By the time dawn broke, there were hundreds helping, including mothers, grandfathers, college students and mountain rescue specialists

In the leisure centre, hundreds of volunteers arrived in cars, on quad bikes and on foot to offer their help. Perhaps the most remarkable thing was that so few police officers were here to direct and marshal them.
Hence, in a crowded hall that might ordinarily have been being used as a basketball court, they formed into lines of about 20 and waited for instruction.
‘Anyone here qualified to read a map?’ one of the organisers shouted. A man in his 20s raised a hand. ‘Right,’ said the organiser. ‘You lead this team.’
On a large map elsewhere in the centre, yellow sticky notelets marked areas already searched.
The new group was given its own map with a black border around the section to which it was assigned.
Gaynor Cook, a 26-year-old mother in a pink top that looked less than waterproof, headed out with fellow volunteers into the rain. Her sister Amanda Thomas had Gaynor’s 20-month-old son Josh in a kiddy-carrier on her back.

Professional help: Coastguard search teams take final instructions before scouring the nearby River Dyfi for April

No stone left unturned: Coastguards scour the banks of the River Dyfi for the youngster, who was last seen on Monday night reportedly getting into a van near her home

The pair had driven 15 miles from Dolgellau, in the southern part of Snowdonia National Park, as soon as they heard what was happening.
‘We just felt we had to come,’ said Gaynor. ‘If it was my child I’d want everyone to turn out, and I’d want them to look everywhere and do anything they could to help.’
As we walked around the outskirts of Machynlleth, Gaynor peered behind walls and lifted the lids of industrial-size wheelie bins around an old people’s home. I asked her if she had been told what to look for.
‘Clothes,’ she replied instantly. ‘Purple coat, white school top and black trousers,’ she added, perfectly describing the outfit April was last seen wearing. ‘And any little clue that could turn into something important.’
Her husband Sam, a forestry worker for Scottish Power, joined the search too. He was preparing to go to work, Gaynor said, but his boss simply told him: ‘Go and help.’
Elsewhere, mothers dropped their children at the school where April should have been in class yesterday – then walked to the leisure centre to sign up for the search.