An Incident That Changed Me: Our Train Derailed – and then I Heard a Child Crying.

T I realized the end was near arrived during my 20s, at a time when everything was beginning. My closest companion, Helen, and I were traveling to Blackburn to visit a friend from college who had recently moved there for work. Thrilled to see each other, and basking in the prospect of the upcoming weekend of fun, we talked incessantly as we made our way by train from York.

We put our suitcases – full of essentials 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. Then came another, now unmistakable. A female passenger shrieked as our carriage was lifted off the tracks in what felt like slow motion. All at once, Helen and I were standing up in the middle of the aisle, clinging to one another. Looking down, vision blocked, I waited for the carriage to flip and explode, as I’d seen in films. My thoughts turned to our families and friends receiving the notification. Subsequently, there was the child sobbing.

“It's going to be fine,” I whispered, my tone was hoarse. “It’s all over,” I stated, mostly for my own benefit.

She appeared to be seven or eight, and appeared to be completely on her own. Her weeping jolted me from my stupor; here was my chance to help. I went to where she was standing and wrapped an arm around her. “Don’t look round,” Helen yelled, the warning came after the fact. I glimpsed a man with blood all over his face. A huge metal object had penetrated the window behind us. Subsequently, we found out a driverless construction vehicle had tumbled down the embankment and into the side of the train, causing us to derail.

Our carriage was stuck with its nose pointing upward. Next was the sound of sirens and a man nearby instructed 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. A few minutes later, Helen and I were likewise scrambling out of the train window and scaling a ladder down onto the railway line.

Once back on solid ground – next to a goods shed in Pudsey – my body started to shake uncontrollably. I searched for the little girl and watched her mother gather her up, we later learned had been using the restroom when the crash occurred. An emergency worker helpfully fetched my clogs. Another traveler sat down heavily on Helen’s case, causing it to burst open – however, fortunately 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 damaged the suitcase. Our friend was waiting, pale with worry. She had heard there had been a derailment and a railway official had escorted her to an office and made her a cup of tea while she waited for news.

Displaying the fearlessness of young adulthood, we pushed the derailment from our minds and proceeded with the social outing, which featured a notable act by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. No one died in the incident, even though several people were transported to the hospital. Helen and I got away with bruises and soreness and discomfort from the force of the sudden jolt in the carriage. The train had been slowing to approach Leeds station, which had been the crucial element 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 made a permanent impression. Looking after her and reassuring her helped take my mind off myself and showed me the importance of looking outwards in a crisis. Over the years, I have often wondered if she had any memory of the event, and how big a deal it had been for her.

Helen and I have remained friends for over 30 years and Pudsey has become shorthand for our ability to cope with anything, provided we have each other. Having her companionship during the accident made it feel as if I was protected from the most terrifying aspects. The derailment further transformed my perspective on various difficult situations, offering me a new viewpoint – and serving as a reminder that, no matter how dire circumstances appear, it is invariably an honor to grow older.