Some forms of tragedy have their own rituals of grief. None more so poignantly, perhaps, than that of an Appalachian coal mine disaster. It is an area of America much akin to the old valleys of South Wales. It is mountainous, materially poor but rich in local culture, and the coal mines have dominated life there for many decades.

So when news broke last week of a dreadful explosion that killed at least 25 miners and trapped others, the story felt as familiar as it did sad. Families and communities mourned together. Congregations prayed, vigils were held and the dead were buried. Rescuers tried to reach the missing.

An equally familiar piece of this mournful tableaux was the emergence of distressing details surrounding the Massey corporation that owns the mine. It would be nice one day to have the media examine a coal company and find that it operated safely, professionally and ethically in all its dealings. But, as usual, that was not the case. The Upper Big Branch Mine had been either fully or partly closed 61 times in 2009 and 2010, mostly for health and safety violations, according to the local Charleston Gazette newspaper which got hold of Labour Department documents. In fact, more than 1,300 citations had been issued against the mine in the last five years. Indeed, Massey got two citations for safety violations on the very day of the disaster.

That sounds shocking. But no one familiar with the history of coal mining in West Virginia could be surprised. The mining corporations that dominate the state's economy have a huge say in what happens there. Just look at Don Blankenship, Massey's chief executive. He once spent three million dollars to help get a judge elected to a West Virginia court ruling on a Massey-related case. He also told an ABC news reporter: "If you're going to start taking pictures of me you're liable to get shot." He is a famous union-buster and proudly sceptical of environmentalists. He can afford to pretty much do as he pleases. West Virginia, and the rest of Appalachian coal country, is dreadfully poor and has a virtual industrial monoculture. The mines are a rare source of good, well-paid jobs. Few can afford to turn them down or lobby to get them improved. As Lorelei Scarbro, a daughter, granddaughter and wife of coal miners, told CNN: "We are all being used by an outlaw industry and corrupt politicians and we are all driven by fear." Those sentiments are as old as the industry itself. Nor do they appear likely to change, no matter how many disasters lie in the future.