An Incident That Changed My Life: The Train I Was On Was in an Accident – and subsequently I Heard a Child Sobbing.
T I knew my life was in danger arrived during my 20s, as my adult life was unfolding. My closest companion, Helen, and I were headed to Blackburn to catch up with a friend from college who had made a new home there for work. Delighted to be together, and reveling in the anticipation of the upcoming weekend of fun, we chatted nonstop as we made our way by train from York.
We put our suitcases – packed with necessities such as our favorite wines and my new pair of black clogs – above our heads and got seated in a comfortable double seat. Roughly halfway through our journey, I was vaguely conscious of a bang. This was followed by a second, which could not be dismissed. A woman screamed as our carriage catapulted upward in what felt like a delayed sequence. All at once, Helen and I were upright in the middle of the aisle, holding each other tight. Head down, eyelids tightly closed, I expected the carriage to flip and explode, as I’d seen in films. I recall pondering our families and friends hearing the tragic update. Then I heard the little girl crying.
“Everything is okay,” I murmured, my tone was hoarse. “The worst has passed,” I murmured, mostly for my own benefit.
She was about seven or eight years old, and seemed to be entirely alone. Her sobbing snapped me back to reality; here was my chance to help. I made my way to where she was standing and gave her a reassuring hug. “Don't turn around,” Helen called out, but it was already too late. I caught sight of a man whose face was bloody. An enormous piece of metal had smashed through the window behind us. Subsequently, we learned a driverless construction vehicle had rolled down the hill and into the side of the train, leading to the derailment.
Our car was lodged with its front end in the air. Next was the sound of sirens and another traveler requested that I to give the girl to him so he could help her out the window, as kids were being rescued to fire crews on standby. A few minutes later, Helen and I were similarly exiting of the train window and scaling a ladder down on to the track.
Once back on solid ground – adjacent to a storage building in Pudsey – I began trembling violently. My eyes scanned for the little girl and watched her mother gather her up, as it transpired had been using the restroom during the incident. A firefighter kindly retrieved my clogs. One of the passengers plonked down on Helen’s case, making it split apart – though luckily our wine was unharmed. Following a 30-minute delay, we traveled in a provided car to Blackburn, accompanied by a young man and the female passenger who had caused the luggage to burst. Our host was there, visibly shaken. She had heard there had been a derailment and a guard had taken her into his office and made her a cup of tea while she hoped for information.
Displaying the fearlessness of young adulthood, we pushed the derailment from our minds and carried on with our night out, which featured a notable act by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. Not a single life was lost in the incident, although several people required hospital treatment. Helen and I escaped with bruises and aches and pains from the force of the sudden jolt in the carriage. Our speed had been decreasing to come into Leeds station, which had been the primary reason in averting grave physical damage. Given that nobody was badly hurt allowed us not to focus on the “what ifs” but the child was the one who changed my outlook profoundly. Attending to her and soothing her shifted my focus outward and demonstrated the importance of directing attention externally in a crisis. Over the years, I have frequently pondered if she remembered anything about it, and how significant it had been for her.
Helen and I have stayed close for over 30 years and "Pudsey" is now our code word for our skill in managing with anything, provided we have each other. Having her companionship during the accident gave me the impression I was protected from the worst of the situation. The crash also changed my method of handling different emergencies, offering me a new viewpoint – and reinforcing the idea that, however bad things seem, it is invariably an honor to grow older.
