An Incident That Transformed My Perspective: Our Train Derailed – and afterward I Heard a Child Sobbing.

The moment I knew my life was in danger occurred in my 20s, at a time when everything was beginning. My best friend, Helen, and I were on our way to Blackburn to reunite with a former classmate who had recently moved there for work. Overjoyed at the reunion, and basking in the prospect of the upcoming weekend of fun, we chatted nonstop as we traveled by train from York.

We placed our luggage – packed with necessities such as bottles of wine and the clogs I had just bought – in the storage compartment and settled down in a comfortable double seat. Approximately 50 minutes after starting our journey, I was faintly cognizant of a bang. This was followed by a second, this time impossible to ignore. A woman screamed as our carriage was lifted off the tracks in what felt like a dreamlike pace. Suddenly, Helen and I were upright in the middle of the aisle, holding each other tight. Looking down, eyes screwed shut, I waited for the carriage to flip and explode, similar to cinematic scenes. My thoughts turned to our families and friends getting the news. Subsequently, there was the child sobbing.

“It's going to be fine,” I murmured, my voice sounding croaky. “The worst has passed,” 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 made my way to where she was standing and gave her a reassuring hug. “Don’t look round,” Helen called out, the warning came after the fact. I caught sight of a man with his face covered in blood. A huge metal object had crashed through the window behind us. Subsequently, we discovered a driverless construction vehicle had tumbled down the embankment and collided with the train, causing us to derail.

Our carriage was stuck with its leading section elevated. Next was the sound of sirens and a man nearby requested that I to pass the little girl to him so he could assist her exit through the opening, while young passengers were extracted to emergency personnel below. Not long afterward, Helen and I were similarly exiting of the train window and descending via a ladder down to the rails.

Once back on solid ground – beside a freight warehouse in Pudsey – uncontrollable shivers took over. My eyes scanned for the little girl and saw her being scooped up by her mum, as it transpired had been using the restroom during the incident. A firefighter kindly retrieved my clogs. Another traveler collapsed on Helen’s case, resulting in it breaking open – though luckily our wine remained intact. Following a 30-minute delay, we proceeded in a complimentary taxi to Blackburn, accompanied by a young man and the female passenger who had caused the luggage to burst. Our university friend greeted us, pale with worry. She had heard there had been a derailment and a staff member had led her away and made her a cup of tea while she anticipated updates.

Bolstered by youthful resilience, we put the train crash to one side and continued with our evening plans, which involved a unforgettable performance by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. Not a single life was lost in the incident, despite the fact that several people were taken to hospital. Helen and I escaped with bruises and aches and pains from the violent forward motion in the carriage. The train had been slowing to come into Leeds station, which had been the crucial element in preventing major harm. Given that nobody was badly hurt allowed us not to dwell on the “what ifs” but that young girl who made a permanent impression. Looking after her and calming her down distracted me from my own fear and showed me the importance of directing attention externally in a crisis. As time passed, I have often wondered if she recalled any details, and how big a deal it had been for her.

Helen and I have remained friends for thirty-plus years and "Pudsey" is now our code word for our ability to cope any situation, so long as we are together. Her presence that fateful day gave me the impression I was shielded against the worst of the situation. The derailment further transformed my method of handling various difficult situations, offering me a new viewpoint – and reinforcing the idea that, however bad things seem, it is always a privilege to grow older.