An Event That Transformed My Perspective: Our Train Was in an Accident – and subsequently I Heard a Young Girl Weeping.

T I realized my life was in danger came a couple of years into my 20s, at a time when everything was beginning. My best friend, Helen, and I were headed to Blackburn to visit a friend from college who had recently moved there for work. Thrilled to see each other, and reveling in the anticipation of the upcoming weekend of fun, we conversed constantly as we made our way by train from York.

We put our suitcases – packed with necessities such as wine bottles and my brand-new black clogs – on the overhead rack and settled down in a comfortable double seat. About 50 minutes into our journey, I was dimly aware of a bang. This was followed by a second, now unmistakable. A woman screamed as our carriage was thrown up into the air in what felt like slow motion. In an instant, Helen and I were somehow on our feet in the middle of the aisle, hugging each other. With my head lowered, eyelids tightly closed, I anticipated the carriage to roll over and burst into flames, as I’d seen in films. I remember thinking our families and friends hearing the tragic update. Subsequently, there was the little girl crying.

“You’re all right,” I whispered, speaking with a rasp. “The worst has passed,” I stated, mostly for my own benefit.

She appeared to be seven or eight, and seemed to be entirely alone. Her crying shook me out of my trance; this was my opportunity to be useful. I went to where she was standing and gave her a reassuring hug. “Don't turn around,” Helen shouted, too late. I caught sight of a man whose face was bloody. An enormous piece of metal had penetrated the window behind us. Afterward, we learned a driverless construction vehicle had tumbled down the embankment and collided with the train, causing us to derail.

Our car was lodged with its nose pointing upward. Then came the noise of sirens and another traveler instructed me to pass the little girl to him so he could assist her exit through the opening, where children were being evacuated to fire crews on standby. Not long afterward, Helen and I were likewise scrambling out of the train window and climbing down a ladder down to the rails.

Once back on solid ground – adjacent to a storage building in Pudsey – my body started to shake uncontrollably. My eyes scanned for the little girl and watched her mother gather her up, as it transpired had been using the restroom when the crash occurred. An emergency worker helpfully fetched my clogs. A fellow passenger sat down heavily on Helen’s case, causing it to burst open – though luckily our wine stayed unbroken. Once we had waited for thirty minutes, we proceeded in a provided car to Blackburn, accompanied by a young man and the female passenger who had caused the luggage to burst. Our host was there, pale with worry. She was aware there had been a derailment and a guard had taken her into his office and prepared some tea for her while she anticipated updates.

Displaying the fearlessness of young adulthood, we set the accident aside and carried on with our night out, which involved a unforgettable performance by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. Not a single life was lost in the incident, although several people were taken to hospital. Helen and I escaped with bruises and aches and pains from the force of the sudden jolt in the carriage. The locomotive was decelerating to come into Leeds station, which had been the primary reason in preventing major harm. Given that nobody was badly hurt allowed us not to obsess over the “what ifs” but it was the little girl who changed my outlook profoundly. Attending to her and reassuring her shifted my focus outward and demonstrated the worth of looking outwards in a crisis. As time passed, I have repeatedly asked myself if she remembered anything about it, and what a major event it had been for her.

Helen and I have stayed close for over 30 years and Pudsey has become shorthand for our ability to cope whatever comes, provided we have each other. Having her companionship during the accident created the sensation that I was insulated from the worst of the situation. The derailment further transformed the way I approach various difficult situations, giving me perspective – and serving as a reminder that, regardless of how terrible things look, it is always a privilege to grow older.