An Event That Altered My Life: Our Train Was in an Accident – and then There Was a Little Girl Crying.
T it dawned on me my life was in danger occurred in my 20s, when life was really just starting out. My best friend, Helen, and I were traveling to Blackburn to reunite with a former classmate who had recently moved there for work. Thrilled to see each other, and enjoying the thought of the social gathering to come, we chatted nonstop as we made our way by train from York.
We stashed our bags – full of essentials such as wine bottles and the clogs I had just bought – in the storage compartment and got seated in a comfortable double seat. Roughly halfway through our journey, I was faintly cognizant of a bang. This was followed by a second, this time impossible to ignore. A female passenger shrieked as our carriage was thrown up into the air in what felt like a delayed sequence. All at once, Helen and I were standing up in the middle of the aisle, clinging to one another. Head down, eyelids tightly closed, I anticipated the carriage to flip and explode, as I’d seen in films. I recall pondering our families and friends hearing the tragic update. That's when the sound of the little girl crying.
“Everything is okay,” I murmured, my voice sounding croaky. “The worst has passed,” I stated, more to myself than her.
She appeared to be seven or eight, and seemed to be entirely alone. Her crying shook me out of my trance; here was my chance to help. I went to where she was standing and put my arm around her. “Avoid looking back,” Helen yelled, but it was already too late. I caught sight of a man with blood all over his face. A large metallic item had smashed through the window behind us. Afterward, we learned a uncontrolled excavator had rolled down the hill and into the side of the train, making the train leave the tracks.
Our carriage was stuck with its leading section elevated. Following that came of sirens and a man nearby instructed me to pass the little girl to him so he could pass her through 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 descending via a ladder onto the railway line.
Standing on firm land again – adjacent to a storage building in Pudsey – uncontrollable shivers took over. I searched for the little girl and saw her being scooped up by her mum, who it turned out had been using the restroom at the time of the accident. A firefighter kindly retrieved my clogs. A fellow passenger collapsed on Helen’s case, resulting in it breaking open – however, fortunately our wine remained intact. After a half-hour wait, we proceeded in a provided car to Blackburn, alongside an adolescent and the lady who had caused the luggage to burst. Our friend was waiting, ashen-faced. 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.
With the invincibility of youth, we set the accident aside and continued with our evening plans, which featured a notable act by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. There were no fatalities in the incident, even though several people were taken to hospital. Helen and I got away with bruises and aches and pains from the impact of being thrown forward in the carriage. The train had been slowing to come into Leeds station, which had been the key factor in preventing major harm. Given that nobody was badly hurt made it easier not to obsess over the “what ifs” but it was the little girl who changed my outlook profoundly. Taking care of her and calming her down helped take my mind off myself and taught me the importance of focusing on others in a crisis. In the decades since, I have often wondered 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 skill in managing whatever comes, as long as we're side by side. Her presence that fateful day created the sensation that I was protected from the worst of the situation. The crash also changed my method of handling different emergencies, providing me with insight – and serving as a reminder that, however bad things seem, it is invariably an honor to grow older.
