A Moment That Transformed My Perspective: The Train I Was On Derailed – and afterward I Heard a Child Weeping.

That instant I realized I was about to die came a couple of years into my 20s, when life was really just starting out. My dearest friend, Helen, and I were traveling to Blackburn to reunite with an old university friend who had made a new home there for work. Thrilled to see each other, and enjoying the thought of the upcoming weekend of fun, we talked incessantly as we made our way by train from York.

We put our suitcases – 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. Roughly halfway through our journey, I was faintly cognizant of a bang. Another one sounded, this time impossible to ignore. A female passenger shrieked as our carriage was lifted off the tracks in what felt like a delayed sequence. In an instant, 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 waited for the carriage to roll over and burst into flames, like in the movies. My thoughts turned to our families and friends hearing the tragic update. Subsequently, there was the young girl weeping.

“Everything is okay,” I said softly, speaking with a rasp. “It's finished now,” I whispered, primarily to calm my own nerves.

She appeared to be seven or eight, and looked like she had no guardian. Her weeping jolted me from my stupor; this was my opportunity to be useful. I moved to where she was standing and put my arm around her. “Don’t look round,” Helen called out, too late. I glimpsed a man with blood all over his face. An enormous piece of metal had crashed through the window behind us. Subsequently, we found out a driverless construction vehicle had rolled down the hill and into the side of the train, causing us to derail.

Our car was lodged with its leading section elevated. Following that came of sirens and a man nearby instructed me to pass the little girl to him so he could assist her exit through the opening, as kids were being rescued to fire crews on standby. Shortly after, Helen and I were also climbing out of the train window and climbing down a ladder onto the railway line.

Standing on firm land again – next to a goods shed in Pudsey – uncontrollable shivers took over. I looked for the little girl and watched her mother gather her up, as it transpired had been in the lavatory during the incident. A rescuer graciously recovered my clogs. One of the passengers collapsed on Helen’s case, resulting in it breaking open – though luckily our wine was unharmed. After a half-hour wait, we traveled in a complimentary taxi to Blackburn, alongside an adolescent and the female passenger who had broken Helen’s case. Our friend was waiting, ashen-faced. She knew there had been a derailment and a guard had taken her into his office and prepared some tea for her while she waited for news.

Bolstered by youthful resilience, we set the accident aside and proceeded with the social outing, which featured a memorable turn by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. Not a single life was lost in the incident, even though several people were transported to the hospital. Helen and I escaped with bruises and aches and pains from the force of the sudden jolt in the carriage. The train had been slowing to approach Leeds station, which had been the primary reason in averting grave physical damage. Given that nobody was badly hurt made it easier not to focus on the “what ifs” but it was the little girl who made a permanent impression. Taking care of her and reassuring her helped take my mind off myself and demonstrated the importance of looking outwards in a crisis. In the decades since, I have frequently pondered if she had any memory of the event, and how significant 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 ability to cope whatever comes, as long as we're side by side. Being with her that day created the sensation that I was insulated from the most terrifying aspects. The accident additionally altered my perspective on various difficult situations, offering me a new viewpoint – and serving as a reminder that, no matter how dire circumstances appear, it is always a privilege to get older.