T I realized the end was near arrived during my 20s, as my adult life was unfolding. My best friend, Helen, and I were headed to Blackburn to catch up with an old university friend who had just relocated there for work. Delighted to be together, and reveling in the anticipation of the upcoming weekend of fun, we conversed constantly as we journeyed by train from York.
We stashed our bags – containing vital items such as wine bottles and the clogs I had just bought – on the overhead rack and got seated in a cosy two-seater. About 50 minutes into our journey, I was faintly cognizant of a bang. Another one sounded, this time impossible to ignore. A woman screamed as our carriage was thrown up into the air in what felt like a dreamlike pace. Suddenly, Helen and I were standing up in the middle of the aisle, clinging to one another. Head down, eyelids tightly closed, I waited for the carriage to flip and explode, as I’d seen in films. I recall pondering our loved ones receiving the notification. Then I heard the little girl crying.
“It's going to be fine,” I whispered, my tone was hoarse. “It's finished now,” I whispered, primarily to calm my own nerves.
She appeared to be seven or eight, and appeared to be completely on her own. Her weeping jolted me from my stupor; now I could do something meaningful. I moved to where she was standing and gave her a reassuring hug. “Don’t look round,” Helen yelled, but it was already too late. I glimpsed a man with blood all over his face. A huge metal object had penetrated the window behind us. Later, we discovered a runaway digger had descended the slope and into the side of the train, causing us to derail.
Our compartment was trapped with its nose pointing upward. Then came the noise of sirens and a fellow passenger instructed me to pass the little girl to him so he could pass her through the window, while young passengers were extracted to emergency personnel below. Shortly after, Helen and I were similarly exiting of the train window and descending via a ladder 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, we later learned had been using the restroom when the crash occurred. A rescuer graciously recovered my clogs. A fellow passenger collapsed on Helen’s case, resulting in it breaking open – but, by good fortune our wine remained intact. After a half-hour wait, we proceeded in a free cab to Blackburn, alongside an adolescent and the female passenger who had broken Helen’s case. Our university friend greeted us, pale with worry. She was aware there had been a derailment and a staff member had led her away and prepared some tea for her while she hoped for information.
Displaying the fearlessness of young adulthood, we set the accident aside and continued with our evening plans, which included a unforgettable performance by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. Not a single life was lost in the incident, despite the fact that several people required hospital treatment. Helen and I got away with bruises and general soreness from the force of the sudden jolt in the carriage. The locomotive was decelerating to come into Leeds station, which had been the crucial element in averting grave physical damage. Since nobody was badly hurt allowed us not to obsess over the “what ifs” but it was the little girl who changed my outlook profoundly. Taking care of her and reassuring her helped take my mind off myself and demonstrated the importance of directing attention externally in a crisis. As time passed, I have repeatedly asked myself if she recalled any details, and how big a deal it had been for her.
Helen and I have now been friends for more than three decades and "Pudsey" is now our code word for our capacity to handle whatever comes, so long as we are together. Having her companionship during the accident gave me the impression I was shielded against the most terrifying aspects. The derailment further transformed the way I approach different emergencies, providing me with insight – and reminding me that, no matter how dire circumstances appear, it is invariably an honor to age.
A geospatial analyst with over a decade of experience in terrain modeling and environmental data visualization.
