An Incident That Changed Me: The Train I Was On Derailed – and then I Heard a Little Girl Crying.

That instant it dawned on me the end was near came a couple of years into my 20s, as my adult life was unfolding. My closest companion, Helen, and I were traveling to Blackburn to catch up with a friend from college who had just relocated there for work. Delighted to be together, and reveling in the anticipation of the upcoming weekend of fun, we chatted nonstop as we traveled by train from York.

We stashed our bags – containing vital items such as bottles of wine and my new pair of black clogs – in the storage compartment and made ourselves comfortable in a cosy two-seater. About 50 minutes into our journey, I was faintly cognizant of a bang. Then came another, which could not be dismissed. Someone cried out 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, clinging to one another. Looking down, eyes screwed shut, I anticipated the carriage to flip and explode, similar to cinematic scenes. My thoughts turned to our relatives and companions getting the news. That's when the sound of the little girl crying.

“It's going to be fine,” I murmured, my tone was hoarse. “It’s all over,” I murmured, primarily to calm my own nerves.

She was about seven or eight years old, and seemed to be entirely alone. Her sobbing snapped me back to reality; this was my opportunity to be useful. I moved to where she was standing and gave her a reassuring hug. “Don't turn around,” Helen shouted, the warning came after the fact. I caught sight of a man with his face covered in blood. A huge metal object had penetrated the window behind us. Afterward, we discovered a driverless construction vehicle had rolled down the hill and collided with the train, causing us to derail.

Our compartment was trapped with its nose pointing upward. Then came the noise of sirens and a man nearby instructed me to give the girl to him so he could help her out the window, 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 – adjacent to a storage building in Pudsey – my body started to shake uncontrollably. I searched for the little girl and saw her being scooped up by her mum, who it turned out had been in the lavatory during the incident. An emergency worker helpfully fetched my clogs. Another traveler collapsed on Helen’s case, making it split apart – but, by good fortune our wine remained intact. Following a 30-minute delay, we proceeded in a free cab to Blackburn, with a teenage boy and the female passenger who had caused the luggage to burst. Our university friend greeted us, visibly shaken. She knew there had been a derailment and a railway official had escorted her to an office and offered her a hot drink while she anticipated updates.

Bolstered by youthful resilience, we put the train crash to one side and continued with our evening plans, which included a notable act by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. There were no fatalities in the incident, even though several people were transported to the hospital. Helen and I sustained only 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 primary reason in avoiding serious injury. The fact that nobody was badly hurt allowed us not to focus on the “what ifs” but the child was the one who changed my outlook profoundly. Attending to her and reassuring her helped take my mind off myself and demonstrated the worth of directing attention externally in a crisis. As time passed, I have repeatedly asked myself if she had any memory of the event, and how significant 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 with anything, provided we have each other. Having her companionship during the accident gave me the impression I was protected from the worst of the situation. The accident additionally altered my method of handling different emergencies, offering me a new viewpoint – and reinforcing the idea that, however bad things seem, it is invariably an honor to grow older.