An Incident That Transformed My Life: Our Train Crashed – and afterward I Heard a Young Girl Sobbing.

T I realized I was about to die came a couple of years into my 20s, at a time when everything was beginning. My dearest friend, Helen, and I were on our way to Blackburn to visit a former classmate who had made a new home there for work. Thrilled to see each other, 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 the clogs I had just bought – above our heads and got seated in a snug pair of seats. Approximately 50 minutes after starting our journey, I was dimly aware of a bang. This was followed by a second, which could not be dismissed. A woman screamed as our carriage was thrown up into the air in what felt like slow motion. All at once, Helen and I were standing up in the middle of the aisle, holding each other tight. With my head lowered, eyelids tightly closed, I waited for the carriage to flip and explode, similar to cinematic scenes. My thoughts turned to our relatives and companions receiving the notification. Then I heard the young girl weeping.

“You’re all right,” I whispered, my tone was hoarse. “The worst has passed,” I stated, primarily to calm my own nerves.

She was about seven or eight years old, and appeared to be completely on her own. Her crying shook me out of my trance; now I could do something meaningful. I went to where she was standing and wrapped an arm around her. “Avoid looking back,” Helen shouted, too late. I glimpsed a man whose face was bloody. A large metallic item had penetrated the window behind us. Later, we learned a driverless construction vehicle had rolled down the hill and into the side of the train, causing us to derail.

Our compartment was trapped with its leading section elevated. Then came the noise of sirens and a fellow passenger asked me to hand the child over so he could help her out the window, as kids were being rescued to emergency personnel below. Not long afterward, Helen and I were likewise scrambling out 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. I searched for the little girl and watched her mother gather her up, we later learned had been in the toilet at the time of the accident. A firefighter kindly retrieved my clogs. One of the passengers plonked down on Helen’s case, making it split apart – though luckily our wine remained intact. Following a 30-minute delay, we traveled in a provided car to Blackburn, alongside an adolescent and the female passenger who had broken Helen’s case. Our university friend greeted us, visibly shaken. She knew there had been a derailment and a guard had taken her into his office and made her a cup of tea while she anticipated updates.

Displaying the fearlessness of young adulthood, we pushed the derailment from our minds and continued with our evening plans, which included a unforgettable performance by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. Not a single life was lost in the incident, even though several people were taken to hospital. Helen and I sustained only bruises and aches and pains from the force of the sudden jolt in the carriage. Our speed had been decreasing 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 obsess over the “what ifs” but it was the little girl who left a lasting impact on me. Taking care of her and soothing her helped take my mind off myself and taught me the value of focusing on others in a crisis. Over the years, I have repeatedly asked myself if she remembered anything about it, and how big a deal it had been for her.

Helen and I have now been friends for thirty-plus years and That location's name now symbolizes for our capacity to handle with anything, so long as we are together. Having her companionship during the accident created the sensation that I was shielded against the most terrifying aspects. The derailment further transformed my method of handling other types of crises, giving me perspective – and serving as a reminder that, no matter how dire circumstances appear, it is always a privilege to grow older.