A Moment That Altered My Perspective: My Train Derailed – and afterward I Heard a Young Girl Sobbing.

The moment it dawned on me my life was in danger arrived during my 20s, when life was really just starting out. My best friend, Helen, and I were headed to Blackburn to visit a friend from college who had recently moved there for work. Thrilled to see each other, and reveling in the anticipation of the social gathering to come, we chatted nonstop as we journeyed by train from York.

We put our suitcases – containing vital items such as wine bottles and my new pair of black clogs – on the overhead rack and settled down in a comfortable double seat. Roughly halfway through our journey, I was faintly cognizant of a bang. Then came another, which could not be dismissed. A female passenger shrieked as our carriage was thrown up into the air in what felt like a dreamlike pace. Suddenly, Helen and I were somehow on our feet in the middle of the aisle, hugging each other. With my head lowered, vision blocked, I anticipated the carriage to overturn and ignite, as I’d seen in films. My thoughts turned to our loved ones receiving the notification. That's when the sound of the young girl weeping.

“Everything is okay,” I whispered, my tone was hoarse. “It’s all over,” I stated, more to myself than her.

Her age was roughly seven or eight, and appeared to be completely on her own. Her sobbing snapped me back to reality; now I could do something meaningful. I moved to where she was standing and wrapped an arm around her. “Don’t look round,” Helen yelled, but it was already too late. I glimpsed a man with blood all over his face. A huge metal object had penetrated the window behind us. Subsequently, we learned a driverless construction vehicle had descended the slope and into the side of the train, leading to the derailment.

Our car was lodged with its nose pointing upward. Then came the noise 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 emergency personnel below. A few minutes later, Helen and I were also climbing out of the train window and climbing down a ladder on to the track.

Once back on solid ground – adjacent to a storage building in Pudsey – I began trembling violently. I searched for the little girl and saw her being scooped up by her mum, who it turned out had been in the lavatory when the crash occurred. A firefighter kindly retrieved my clogs. A fellow passenger collapsed on Helen’s case, resulting in it breaking open – but, by good fortune our wine remained intact. After a half-hour wait, we proceeded in a free cab to Blackburn, alongside an adolescent and the woman who had broken Helen’s case. Our friend was waiting, visibly shaken. She knew there had been a derailment and a railway official had escorted her to an office and prepared some tea for her while she waited for news.

With the invincibility of youth, we pushed the derailment from our minds and proceeded with the social outing, which involved a memorable turn by Blackburn drag queen Clitheroe Kate. Not a single life was lost in the incident, although several people were transported to the hospital. Helen and I sustained only bruises and aches and pains from the force of the sudden jolt in the carriage. The locomotive was decelerating to enter Leeds station, which had been the crucial element in preventing major harm. Given that nobody was badly hurt helped not to dwell on the “what ifs” but the child was the one who left a lasting impact on me. Looking after her and reassuring her shifted my focus outward and showed me the value of focusing on others in a crisis. Over the years, 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 more than three decades and "Pudsey" is now our code word for our capacity to handle with anything, provided we have each other. Being with her that day made it feel as if I was protected from the full horror of the event. The derailment further transformed my perspective on various difficult situations, offering me a new viewpoint – and serving as a reminder that, however bad things seem, it is invariably an honor to get older.