Still searching for answers
I've just been down to Sichuan to see what things are like a year after the earthquake which killed more than 85,000 people....
At 2.30pm on 12 May 2008, pupils at the Xinjian primary school in Dujiangyan would have been outside in the playground. But the Sichuan earthquake came two minutes earlier - at 2.28pm - while the children were still inside their classrooms.
Their school buildings collapsed on top of them, killing more than 400 pupils.
But every other building nearby stayed standing. The parents believe their children were killed by bad building work - by negligence not natural disaster.
Fu Xuezhong lost his 12-year-old son Fu Tian - his only child. At a ceremony held at the ruins of the school three weeks after the earthquake, he carried a framed picture of his son and laid a single flower in the rubble.
"We want justice for our children," he said. "We won't rest till we get justice."
But, a year later, you won't find news of the parents' campaign. The official legend of the Sichuan earthquake does not have any inconvenient chapters.
China is, famously, a state without a God. But over the last 60 years, the Communist Party has created its own kind of religion - a national story or mythology in which everyone here can have faith.
In this story, the Party united the country against foreign enemies. Its leaders are benevolent, even god-like, figures. Natural disasters are trials to be overcome.
The Sichuan earthquake has now taken a prominent place in this national story. The government's response was portrayed as quick and compassionate. The Premier, Wen Jiabao, was cast as the noble hero - the leader who cried with the bereaved and who promised that fallen towns would one day rise again.
This is the official legend of the earthquake. It's what ordinary Chinese people are told - and it's probably what most of them genuinely believe as well.
On a hilltop overlooking the ruins of the town of Beichuan, hundreds of Chinese tourists now queue up to buy pieces of this legend. Vendors sell picture books and DVDs of the disaster, incense and candles to be placed on memorials.
"This national tragedy has made us build a much stronger nation," says one tourist. "The government is deeply concerned, ordinary people work hard - all obstacles are overcome."
But these tourists know almost nothing of the parents' story. Since early June 2008, the Communist Party has banned the Chinese media from covering the parents' campaign.
Over the last year, local officials have harassed, sometimes even attacked the parents in an effort to keep them quiet.
A year on from the earthquake, Fu Xuezhong looks much older. He and his wife live in a temporary home provided by the government.
His hopes for justice have now gone. The remains of his son's school have been cleared away. Any evidence of bad building work has disappeared. A recent government inquiry has found that no-one was to blame for the collapse of this school or any other.
"It's not just the earthquake that made the building collapse," insists Fu Xuezhong, "but the government can't acknowledge that fact. It would bring out a lot of other troubles. They will never acknowledge it."
He concludes: "There isn't much hope for justice anymore, I think it's hopeless."
He Deming listens to Fu Xuezhong. His 11-year-old son He Jie died when the school collapsed.
"We want to petition," He Deming says, "but how can we do so? We get stopped, we can't even walk out. I won't give up not until I get justice for my child."
These parents are not alone. The artist Ai Weiwei, who helped to design the Olympic stadium in Beijing, has led a campaign for disclosure and justice.
In the absence of an official tally of dead schoolchildren, Mr Ai sent 50 volunteers to Sichuan to compile their own toll. (In early May 2009, the government finally issued its own number: 5335 pupils were missing or dead.)
Ai Weiwei says that his attempts to discover the truth have routinely been impeded by government officials.
"It's a tradition for China not to reveal any public information," he says. "This earthquake relates to too many issues - such as wrongdoings in the construction. And also some policy mistakes after the quake such as aid distribution and the humanitarian effort."
The children who died in the Xinjian school have been buried in a special section of the Bao Shanta cemetery. Fu Xuezhong takes us there, along with two other fathers.
"This is it," says Fu Xuezhong as he points to his son's grave. "These three kids are buried together because they were good friends."
Moments later, an official guarding the cemetery stops us from recording and he calls the police. Officers from a special unit set up to deal with the parents are called in. They ask us for our press credentials.
Fu Xuezhong and the two other fathers quietly walk away down the hill.
In the official legend of the Sichuan earthquake, there is no room for the parents who want to know why their children were killed.