A Moment That Altered My Life: My Train Was in an Accident – and afterward I Heard a Young Girl Weeping.

T I realized my life was in danger occurred in my 20s, at a time when everything was beginning. My closest companion, Helen, and I were traveling to Blackburn to reunite with a former classmate who had recently moved there for work. Overjoyed at the reunion, and enjoying the thought of the upcoming weekend of fun, we chatted nonstop as we made our way by train from York.

We put our suitcases – containing vital items such as bottles of wine 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 vaguely conscious of a bang. This was followed by a second, now unmistakable. A woman screamed as our carriage was lifted off the tracks in what felt like a delayed sequence. All at once, Helen and I were somehow on our feet in the middle of the aisle, clinging to one another. With my head lowered, eyes screwed shut, I expected the carriage to flip and explode, as I’d seen in films. My thoughts turned to our loved ones hearing the tragic update. That's when the sound of the child sobbing.

“Everything is okay,” I murmured, speaking with a rasp. “It's finished now,” 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 look round,” Helen yelled, too late. I saw a man whose face was bloody. An enormous piece of metal had smashed through the window behind us. Later, we learned a runaway digger had descended the slope and into the side of the train, causing us to derail.

Our compartment was trapped with its leading section elevated. Following that came of sirens and a fellow passenger 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. Shortly after, Helen and I were also climbing out of the train window and climbing down a ladder onto the railway line.

Once back on solid ground – beside a freight warehouse in Pudsey – I began trembling violently. I looked for the little girl and watched her mother gather her up, as it transpired had been using the restroom when the crash occurred. A firefighter kindly retrieved my clogs. Another traveler collapsed on Helen’s case, resulting in it breaking open – but, by good fortune our wine stayed unbroken. Once we had waited for thirty minutes, we traveled in a complimentary taxi to Blackburn, with a teenage boy and the woman who had broken Helen’s case. Our university friend greeted us, ashen-faced. She had heard there had been a derailment and a staff member had led her away and prepared some tea for her while she anticipated updates.

With the invincibility of youth, we put the train crash to one side and continued with our evening plans, which involved a notable act 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 soreness and discomfort from the impact of being thrown forward in the carriage. The train had been slowing to approach Leeds station, which had been the key factor in averting grave physical damage. The fact that nobody was badly hurt made it easier not to focus on the “what ifs” but the child was the one who made a permanent impression. Taking care of her and calming her down distracted me from my own fear and showed me the importance of directing attention externally in a crisis. In the decades since, 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 now been friends for over 30 years and That location's name now symbolizes for our capacity to handle any situation, provided we have each other. Her presence that fateful day made it feel as if I was shielded against the most terrifying aspects. The crash also changed my perspective on different emergencies, giving me perspective – and reminding me that, no matter how dire circumstances appear, it remains a gift to grow older.