A Moment That Altered Me: My Train Crashed – and then I Heard a Child Weeping.

The moment it dawned on me the end was near occurred in my 20s, at a time when everything was beginning. My dearest friend, Helen, and I were headed to Blackburn to visit a friend from college who had made a new home there for work. Overjoyed at the reunion, and enjoying the thought of the party weekend ahead, we talked incessantly as we made our way by train from York.

We put our suitcases – full of essentials such as our favorite wines and my new pair of black clogs – above our heads and got seated in a cosy two-seater. About 50 minutes into our journey, I was dimly aware of a bang. This was followed by a second, which could not be dismissed. A female passenger shrieked as our carriage was lifted off the tracks in what felt like a dreamlike pace. Suddenly, Helen and I were standing up in the middle of the aisle, holding each other tight. With my head lowered, vision blocked, I expected the carriage to overturn and ignite, similar to cinematic scenes. My thoughts turned to our relatives and companions receiving the notification. Subsequently, there was the child sobbing.

“It's going to be fine,” I said softly, speaking with a rasp. “It’s all over,” I murmured, primarily to calm my own nerves.

She appeared to be seven or eight, and seemed to be entirely alone. Her weeping jolted me from my stupor; now I could do something meaningful. I made my way to where she was standing and put my arm around her. “Avoid looking back,” Helen yelled, the warning came after the fact. I glimpsed a man whose face was bloody. A huge metal object had smashed through the window behind us. Subsequently, we found out a runaway digger had descended the slope and smashed into our carriage, making the train leave the tracks.

Our car was lodged with its front end in the air. Then came the noise of sirens and a fellow passenger requested that I to give the girl to him so he could help her out the window, as kids were being rescued to emergency personnel below. A few minutes later, Helen and I were likewise scrambling out of the train window and scaling a ladder down down to the rails.

Once back on solid ground – beside a freight warehouse 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 when the crash occurred. A firefighter kindly retrieved my clogs. A fellow passenger sat down heavily on Helen’s case, resulting in it breaking open – but, by good fortune our wine was unharmed. After a half-hour wait, we made our way in a free cab to Blackburn, alongside an adolescent and the lady who had broken Helen’s case. Our university friend greeted us, ashen-faced. She knew there had been a derailment and a guard had taken her into his office and offered her a hot drink while she waited for news.

Displaying the fearlessness of young adulthood, we pushed the derailment from our minds and continued with our evening plans, which featured a notable act by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. There were no fatalities in the incident, despite the fact that 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 enter Leeds station, which had been the crucial element in preventing major harm. The fact that nobody was badly hurt made it easier not to dwell on the “what ifs” but that young girl who made a permanent impression. Taking care of her and soothing her distracted me from my own fear and showed me the importance of directing attention externally in a crisis. In the decades since, I have often wondered if she remembered anything about it, and how significant it had been for her.

Helen and I have now been friends for over 30 years and That location's name now symbolizes for our skill in managing whatever comes, so long as we are together. Having her companionship during the accident created the sensation that I was shielded against the worst of the situation. The accident additionally altered my perspective on various difficult situations, giving me perspective – and serving as a reminder that, however bad things seem, it is always a privilege to age.