An Event That Transformed My Perspective: The Train I Was On Was in an Accident – and then I Heard a Child Weeping.
That instant it dawned on me I was about to die arrived during my 20s, at a time when everything was beginning. My best friend, Helen, and I were headed to Blackburn to reunite with an old university friend who had made a new home there for work. Delighted to be together, and enjoying the thought of the party weekend ahead, we talked incessantly as we traveled by train from York.
We placed our luggage – packed with necessities such as wine bottles and the clogs I had just bought – in the storage compartment and got seated in a cosy two-seater. Roughly halfway through our journey, I was faintly cognizant of a bang. Then came another, which could not be dismissed. A female passenger shrieked as our carriage catapulted upward in what felt like slow motion. Suddenly, Helen and I were somehow on our feet in the middle of the aisle, hugging each other. With my head lowered, eyelids tightly closed, I waited for the carriage to flip and explode, like in the movies. I recall pondering our families and friends receiving the notification. That's when the sound of the little girl crying.
“You’re all right,” I whispered, my tone was hoarse. “It’s all over,” I stated, more to myself than her.
She was about seven or eight years old, and looked like she had no guardian. Her sobbing snapped me back to reality; here was my chance to help. I moved to where she was standing and wrapped an arm around her. “Don’t look round,” Helen yelled, the warning came after the fact. I saw a man whose face was bloody. A huge metal object had crashed through the window behind us. Later, we discovered a driverless construction vehicle had tumbled down the embankment and into the side of the train, leading to the derailment.
Our carriage was stuck with its leading section elevated. Then came the noise of sirens and a man nearby asked me to give the girl to him so he could pass her through the window, while young passengers were extracted to fire crews on standby. Not long afterward, Helen and I were likewise scrambling out of the train window and climbing down a ladder down to the rails.
Back on terra firma – next to a goods shed in Pudsey – I began trembling violently. I looked for the little girl and saw her being scooped up by her mum, who it turned out had been using the restroom during the incident. An emergency worker helpfully fetched my clogs. One of the passengers sat down heavily on Helen’s case, causing it to burst open – but, by good fortune our wine stayed unbroken. After a half-hour wait, we traveled in a complimentary taxi to Blackburn, accompanied by a young man and the woman who had damaged the suitcase. Our host was there, pale with worry. She knew there had been a derailment and a staff member had led her away and prepared some tea for her while she waited for news.
Displaying the fearlessness of young adulthood, we put the train crash to one side and continued with our evening plans, which featured a memorable turn by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. There were no fatalities in the incident, despite the fact that several people required hospital treatment. Helen and I escaped with bruises and general soreness from the impact of being thrown forward in the carriage. The locomotive was decelerating to come into Leeds station, which had been the crucial element in avoiding serious injury. The fact that nobody was badly hurt helped not to dwell on the “what ifs” but that young girl who left a lasting impact on me. Looking after her and reassuring her distracted me from my own fear and taught me the value of directing attention externally in a crisis. In the decades since, I have frequently pondered if she had any memory of the event, and what a major event it had been for her.
Helen and I have stayed close for thirty-plus years and Pudsey has become shorthand for our ability to cope any situation, as long as we're side by side. Having her companionship during the accident made it feel as if I was shielded against the worst of the situation. The accident additionally altered the way I approach different emergencies, providing me with insight – and serving as a reminder that, no matter how dire circumstances appear, it is invariably an honor to get older.