Being brought up in the Peak District, potholing and climbing were part of the culture - the former being a part I avoided like the plague, it has to be said. (There is in fact a quite considerable cave actually within the bounds of the town I grew up in, and less than a two minute walk from my old secondary school.)
The Neil Moss incident, which happened just up the road from where I'm sitting now, is still talked about. It happened at Peak Cavern - the infamous Devil's Arse - and was before my time, but a friend's father was involved as a young volunteer, and most of the cavers and mountain rescue types around us when I was growing up had been involved, as were Mines Research (more accurately Safety in Mines Research) another local institution, which later became the HSE Laboratory.
He's still in there, buried under cave rubble that was piled on top of the shaft after his death. My childhood doctor (lovely man - proper old-school, but without the associated arrogance) was himself an experienced outdoorsman and signed off on the death - later stating that it was the only time he ever declared a death without inspecting the body. It was an incredibly traumatic experience for all involved - there have always been rumours that the poor guy was euthanised, but I suspect the volunteers simply waited for him to die, which would probably have been an even worse experience.
The larger cavern containing the shaft which is now his tomb has been named Moss Chamber:
No. Nope. Nah. I'll pass, thanks.
There's a more in depth article – with some quite atmospheric photographs - on the Mountain Rescue England and Wales site:
Remembering Neil Moss....
Definitely, worth a read as it really brings home the horrendousness of the situation, the apparent foolhardiness of Neil Moss’s initial action, and the reasons they so quickly led to disaster. It’s also an illustration of the enormous change in context between the bit the tourists see, and the bits they never get near. In fact, it strikes me that caves and caving might serve as a symbol for all the environmental hazards involved in outdoor pursuits. It’s like, you’ve got separated from the rest of the group on a tour of York Minster, you take a wrong turn, open a broom cupboard and step through onto a two inch ledge two thirds of the way up El Capitan. You are always
that close.