An Event That Altered My Life: Our Train Was in an Accident – and subsequently I Overheard a Young Girl Crying.

That instant it dawned on me the end was near arrived during my 20s, as my adult life was unfolding. My best friend, 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 reveling in the anticipation of the upcoming weekend of fun, we chatted nonstop as we traveled by train from York.

We placed our luggage – packed with necessities such as bottles of wine and my brand-new black clogs – above our heads and made ourselves comfortable in a snug pair of seats. Roughly halfway through our journey, I was dimly aware of a bang. Another one sounded, which could not be dismissed. Someone cried out as our carriage was lifted off the tracks in what felt like a dreamlike pace. 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 expected the carriage to flip and explode, as I’d seen in films. My thoughts turned to our relatives and companions receiving the notification. Then I heard the little girl crying.

“You’re all right,” I murmured, speaking with a rasp. “It's finished now,” I murmured, primarily to calm my own nerves.

She appeared to be seven or eight, and appeared to be completely on her own. Her sobbing snapped me back to reality; here was my chance to help. I made my way to where she was standing and wrapped an arm around her. “Don't turn around,” Helen yelled, the warning came after the fact. I caught sight of a man whose face was bloody. A large metallic item had smashed through the window behind us. Subsequently, we found out a runaway digger had tumbled down the embankment and into the side of the train, making the train leave the tracks.

Our compartment was trapped with its nose pointing upward. Following that came of sirens and another traveler asked me to pass the little girl to him so he could help her out the window, where children were being evacuated to waiting firefighters. A few minutes later, Helen and I were similarly exiting of the train window and scaling a ladder down on to the track.

Once back on solid ground – beside a freight warehouse in Pudsey – uncontrollable shivers took over. I looked for the little girl and saw her being scooped up by her mum, as it transpired had been in the toilet during the incident. A rescuer graciously recovered my clogs. One of the passengers collapsed on Helen’s case, resulting in it breaking open – but, by good fortune our wine remained intact. Following a 30-minute delay, we proceeded in a complimentary taxi to Blackburn, accompanied by a young man and the woman who had caused the luggage to burst. Our host was there, visibly shaken. 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 featured a notable act by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. No one died in the incident, even though 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 primary reason in avoiding serious injury. Given that nobody was badly hurt helped not to obsess over the “what ifs” but it was the little girl who changed my outlook profoundly. Taking care of her and calming her down helped take my mind off myself and taught me the value of looking outwards in a crisis. As time passed, I have often wondered if she recalled any details, and what a major event it had been for her.

Helen and I have now been friends for thirty-plus years and Pudsey has become shorthand for our skill in managing any situation, as long as we're side by side. Being with her that day made it feel as if I was protected from the most terrifying aspects. The crash also changed my perspective on other types of crises, offering me a new viewpoint – and reinforcing the idea that, no matter how dire circumstances appear, it is always a privilege to age.