It was often on the sharp clear winter days when living on a hill above a train track felt most surreal to me, the days when the steam would slice through the icy air like the breath of a jogging dragon, days always in the minority in mild moist Devon and all the more special for that.
Wow, what an experience. It brings to mind the sheer fragility of our humanness. What prompts someone to do that? Too much humanness? Too little? I knew someone personally who did this about eight years ago. We had become friendly, working as letter carriers in the U.S. Post Office. He worked in a different town than I did, but I would sometimes go to his office to fill in if someone called in sick. He had a wife and three kids and was devoutly religious. He was nice, always smiling, with a good sense of humor. I found out through other letter carriers that he had put himself in front of a train near his hometown. I couldn't believe it. He seemed the least likely candidate for such an extreme act. But I thought about how he always smiled and joked, and I realized he was probably masking a deep unhappiness that I couldn't begin to comprehend. I can only hope he found peace and his family was and is OK. Aside from this, I was disappointed to learn that owls aren't the beacons of wisdom they appear to be! I'm still going to revere them, though. There is always something magical about silent hunters of the sky, so I'll take some solace in their status as birds of prey.
Beautifully written and captures perfectly the bewilderment and earth-shattering impression a contact with violent death, even one of someone completely unknown, can have on us.
A very evocative piece of writing, with an undertone of the past haunted by train whistles and an undercurrent of potential fear. It shows in its detail a disturbed state of mind captured very well indeed, as always layered with different times - and water, very apt at the moment. Wonderful, thank you. Very vivid.
What a heartbreaking thing to experience. I get why the staff don’t usually tell people that the train hit a person. It’s distressing to think about. But also, if people are being impatient with the staff, the staff definitely have a right to tell people so they understand why the train is not going anywhere.
I think one of the reasons these incidents are so disturbing is because we think about the pain and trauma. I also think it’s very unfair on train drivers.
The other reason is that it disturbs one’s sense that somehow everything will be okay. I used to call it the bubble of complacency (the illusion that nothing bad happens to me).
My brother is a lorry driver and a young woman jumped off a motorway bridge in front of him just before Christmas. She was freakishly lucky - he swerved and avoided her and the lorry behind simply passed straight over her prone body. She’d jumped feet first so that damage was to the bottom half of her body where she’d hit the ground. He stayed with her until the ambulance arrived but was traumatised by the whole experience. When you see (or hear) something like this it can be life changing. He’s having counselling (all he could think of was his own daughter who is roughly the same age). Don’t be surprised if this continues to haunt you or if you get delayed stress reactions. Most of us are human after all.
Since I’ve been boycotting Twitter (or X as it now ridiculously calls itself) I think the only thing I’ve truly missed is your posts and your writing. I’m so happy to have find a place where I can read what you’re writing again! Having said that, I’m really sorry to hear that you had to go through such an awful experience on the train. I do appreciate you writing with such candour about a subject that so often gets brushed under the carpet though.
As always, you perfectly capture Devon's beauty, contradictions and fluid loveliness. But you also perceive the clumsy, fretful and sometimes hilarious way we interact with our environment.
My son wants to be a train driver, and I always find myself worrying about him experiencing first hand the exact scenario at the heart of your beautifully crafted little gem of a story. I don’t think anything can prepare you for an experience like that.
Oof. Thanks for sharing, Tom. I was on a train when this happened. It was announced over the intercoms, something about it being an investigation so we couldn’t step off even though we’d be stopped for awhile. There were groans of annoyance. I wept silently as we waited--not nearly long enough to mark her life and what it would never see. I, too, decided a bit about her, with no knowledge and no confirmation, this person whose life had intersected with mine for a nanosecond.
I am really sorry that happened. I hope writing about it helps a little bit. It’s incredibly tragic and indeed while sometimes called selfish because of how it affects others, even strangers, you have to be in a really terrible state that absolutely feels like an intractable hole you will never get out of. It’s just bad all around for everyone.
This is very close to home, I could hear the train whistle from New Jersey Transit just as the story closed. There it sounds again, departing the station. You have a lovely style of describing to your reader the actual feelings and sounds. Emotional writing and a unique way with the pen. Enjoyed reading Trains.
So sorry to hear you were involved in this Tom and take care of yourself. I remember learning that the best way to process and integrate traumatic experiences and memories is to tell the story of what happened, so good on you for telling it so beautifully and creatively as always.
This is brilliant. Such depth, such feeling, such sly humour between the pathos. Thanks for sharing. One day I might tell of my story and a train. Thanks so much for sharing.
Wow, what an experience. It brings to mind the sheer fragility of our humanness. What prompts someone to do that? Too much humanness? Too little? I knew someone personally who did this about eight years ago. We had become friendly, working as letter carriers in the U.S. Post Office. He worked in a different town than I did, but I would sometimes go to his office to fill in if someone called in sick. He had a wife and three kids and was devoutly religious. He was nice, always smiling, with a good sense of humor. I found out through other letter carriers that he had put himself in front of a train near his hometown. I couldn't believe it. He seemed the least likely candidate for such an extreme act. But I thought about how he always smiled and joked, and I realized he was probably masking a deep unhappiness that I couldn't begin to comprehend. I can only hope he found peace and his family was and is OK. Aside from this, I was disappointed to learn that owls aren't the beacons of wisdom they appear to be! I'm still going to revere them, though. There is always something magical about silent hunters of the sky, so I'll take some solace in their status as birds of prey.
Beautifully written and captures perfectly the bewilderment and earth-shattering impression a contact with violent death, even one of someone completely unknown, can have on us.
Thank you, Graham.
A very evocative piece of writing, with an undertone of the past haunted by train whistles and an undercurrent of potential fear. It shows in its detail a disturbed state of mind captured very well indeed, as always layered with different times - and water, very apt at the moment. Wonderful, thank you. Very vivid.
Thank you, Pam.
What a heartbreaking thing to experience. I get why the staff don’t usually tell people that the train hit a person. It’s distressing to think about. But also, if people are being impatient with the staff, the staff definitely have a right to tell people so they understand why the train is not going anywhere.
I think one of the reasons these incidents are so disturbing is because we think about the pain and trauma. I also think it’s very unfair on train drivers.
The other reason is that it disturbs one’s sense that somehow everything will be okay. I used to call it the bubble of complacency (the illusion that nothing bad happens to me).
My brother is a lorry driver and a young woman jumped off a motorway bridge in front of him just before Christmas. She was freakishly lucky - he swerved and avoided her and the lorry behind simply passed straight over her prone body. She’d jumped feet first so that damage was to the bottom half of her body where she’d hit the ground. He stayed with her until the ambulance arrived but was traumatised by the whole experience. When you see (or hear) something like this it can be life changing. He’s having counselling (all he could think of was his own daughter who is roughly the same age). Don’t be surprised if this continues to haunt you or if you get delayed stress reactions. Most of us are human after all.
How awful, but how kind of him to stay.
Since I’ve been boycotting Twitter (or X as it now ridiculously calls itself) I think the only thing I’ve truly missed is your posts and your writing. I’m so happy to have find a place where I can read what you’re writing again! Having said that, I’m really sorry to hear that you had to go through such an awful experience on the train. I do appreciate you writing with such candour about a subject that so often gets brushed under the carpet though.
As always, you perfectly capture Devon's beauty, contradictions and fluid loveliness. But you also perceive the clumsy, fretful and sometimes hilarious way we interact with our environment.
Terrible, but beautifully haunting story.
Thank you - you have just taken me away and above an afternoon practising for my first ever public poetry reading.
Thank you. And... best of luck with it! They say you should imagine the audience naked (although perhaps without filling in too much detail).
Brilliant - I'll keep that in mind!!
My son wants to be a train driver, and I always find myself worrying about him experiencing first hand the exact scenario at the heart of your beautifully crafted little gem of a story. I don’t think anything can prepare you for an experience like that.
Oof. Thanks for sharing, Tom. I was on a train when this happened. It was announced over the intercoms, something about it being an investigation so we couldn’t step off even though we’d be stopped for awhile. There were groans of annoyance. I wept silently as we waited--not nearly long enough to mark her life and what it would never see. I, too, decided a bit about her, with no knowledge and no confirmation, this person whose life had intersected with mine for a nanosecond.
I am really sorry that happened. I hope writing about it helps a little bit. It’s incredibly tragic and indeed while sometimes called selfish because of how it affects others, even strangers, you have to be in a really terrible state that absolutely feels like an intractable hole you will never get out of. It’s just bad all around for everyone.
This is very close to home, I could hear the train whistle from New Jersey Transit just as the story closed. There it sounds again, departing the station. You have a lovely style of describing to your reader the actual feelings and sounds. Emotional writing and a unique way with the pen. Enjoyed reading Trains.
So sorry to hear you were involved in this Tom and take care of yourself. I remember learning that the best way to process and integrate traumatic experiences and memories is to tell the story of what happened, so good on you for telling it so beautifully and creatively as always.
Thank you, Laura.
Nice piece Tom. Thank you
This is brilliant. Such depth, such feeling, such sly humour between the pathos. Thanks for sharing. One day I might tell of my story and a train. Thanks so much for sharing.