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Shorts
The Great Harrow and Wealdstone Train Crash
By brook_rivers
05 June 2006
8 October 1952

On the morning of 8 October 1952 one of the most serious accidents in United Kingdom railway history took place at Harrow & Wealdstone station, just north of London on the main line from Euston. A southbound express ran into the back of a local train standing in the station; another express, northbound from Euston, then ran into the wreckage. 112 people were killed, a death-toll second only to the Quintinshill disaster of 1915. This event shocked the nation, and much controversy followed over where the blame lay.

This story is a true story including members of my immediate family.




‘Look love you’re not well you know, you don’t have to go into work’


‘No, I really should mum I had all last week off’


‘But you haven’t recovered, its best to stay off work till you have recovered’


‘No mum I haven’t been in the job long, I can’t let them down’


‘Don’t be silly Janice they’ll understand’


‘No mum I’m going in I’ll be fine’


‘Well only if you’re absolutely sure and if you don’t feel right you can come home early’


‘Ok then mum I’ll see you a bit later’


‘I’ll do you something nice for your tea then!’


‘Thanks mum’ Janice flashed her mum a meek smile and made for the door.


‘Don’t I get a kiss then?’ Janice turned round and gave her mum a kiss and a hug goodbye and then left for the train station, desperately trying to hide from her intuitive mother that she really still was quite ill. On the other hand she definitely didn’t want to lose this job, she had only started last month and it really wasn’t a job she wanted to give up. Traveling to London every day had given her a buzz of independence, and she was basking in it. Checking her watch Janice realized she was later than usually. In fact she would have to jog the last bit if she wanted to catch her train from Watford station. Usually she met her friend and her granddad at the station. They both traveled to London for work as well and they always had an enjoyable train ride together. She smiled; her Granddad was a card that was certain. As she ran into the station Janice hoped her smart appearance hadn’t been ruffled too much by her last minute sprint.


Dora watched her daughter walking down the garden path and smiled with pride. Janice’s raven locks gleamed in the early morning sunlight. She really had determination that one, and wouldn’t let anything get in her way if she wanted it. Complete opposite to her youngest daughter who was very carefree and prone to be a bit dizzy. Dora chuckled and then went back inside. There was a lot to do today. Most people usually did spring cleaning, but Dora did summer cleaning, autumn cleaning and winter cleaning as well, not to mention all the other cleaning in between. Today Dora had marked for her autumn cleaning. Although it was October 8th it was a fine day. There was a bit of a chill in the air but it was fresh and the sun was shining. Perfect conditions to open up the house and give it a good scrub.


Penny and Henry were waiting at the platform. Time was ticking by and Henry was impatient to get his usual seat at the back of the train but Janice still hadn’t turned up.


‘Penny I’m going to go and grab our seats. To be honest by the looks of Janice at the weekend I don’t think she will be back at work just yet.’


‘No, I didn’t hear from her over the weekend and she usually calls’


‘Well she knows where to find us if she does turn up, so we may as well go and get a seat. My old legs aren’t as good as they used to be and I don’t fancy standing all the way to London’


Penny smiled ‘OK then old man’ she said cheekily ‘lets go and sit down’.


Janice made it to the station, eyes and nose streaming from her cold, and just got her ticket in time. She rushed onto the platform and jumped on the train just as the guard was blowing his whistle. She hadn’t had time to make her way up to the back of the train where she usually say with her Granddad and Penny but fortunately there was a spare seat in the first compartment of the train. She now had a major headache due to her feet pounding the ground so hard in the attempt to get to the station, and not being unkind to her granddad or Penny, was rather glad she didn’t have to make conversation this early, when she felt this ill. She gazed out of the train window watching the familiar scenes of her hometown slipping away as the train hurtled forwards on the track. She didn’t mind train journeys, she just hoped this would be an uneventful one.


It was half past 8 and Betty, Janice’s aunty, and her son Peter were having breakfast in the kitchen. The sun had just started to illuminate the garden and the radio was playing softly in the background. Betty had had an accident a few weeks previously and was currently consigned to a wheel chair. Peter was clattering about whilst making scrambled eggs for his temporarily invalided mother when Betty suddenly called for silence. Peter thinking it was his mother was about to complain about his technique’s in scrambled egg making turned round to face her with a smart remark and realized something was very, very wrong.


‘ssssssh LISTEN’ Betty said urgently.


The kitchen went eerily silent and the radio rang clearly in the open space.


‘….tragic accident at Harrow & Wealdstone. It is unclear how the accident happened but we do know that three trains were involved. Anyone concerned about relatives on the 8.07 train from Watford can call the helpline…..’


Betty by this point was ghostly white.


‘Mum, are you ok what’s the matter?’


‘Your Granddad and Janice are both on that train’


‘Shit’ Peter uttered involuntarily, and for once his mother didn’t berate him about his language. There was silence for a full five minutes.


‘Right’ said Betty whirling into action. ‘We need to find out if Dora and your Nan know about this yet, and ring that helpline number see if we can find out if they are …are…’ Betty didn’t quite know what to say and burst into tears. Peter was shocked. He could not recollect ever seeing his Mother cry before; she was always such a tough, hard character. He sprang forward to comfort his Mother and when her tears had subsided he wheeled her towards the phone in the hall.


‘Who are you calling first’ Peter asked tentatively.


‘First?’


‘Yes are you calling Nan or Aunty Dora first?’


‘What! I am not ringing them I am ringing the helpline. You’ll have to go over to Dora’s and to Nan’s and just see how they are, if they know. I can’t say something like that over the phone Peter, have some sense!’. Betty was back to her usual brisk tone.


‘Oh ok’ said Peter realizing the magnitude of the task his Mother had just set him. ‘Well I suppose I’d better go sooner rather than later. I will get going now’


‘Make sure your sensitive Peter, if it wasn’t for this wheelchair you know I’d go. Get Dora and Nan to come here then we will all be together.’ Betty said as her departing words to her son.


Aunty Dora only lived around the corner but the walk to her house seemed to last a life time to Peter. He had decided to go to his Aunties house first simply because it was nearer. There was also the possibility that his Aunt had already heard the news because she would be more likely to listen to the radio and she also had a very interfering neighbor. As the front garden came in to view Peter steeled himself for the worst and was met with a totally unexpected scene. Dora had all the windows wide open and was busily washing one of the front windows, while humming a song he did not recognize.  Part of him was relieved that he wasn’t faced with a torrent of tears but he also felt crushed for his poor Aunty who was about to be told that her father and her daughter could either have been killed or horrifically wounded in a devastating  train crash.


At about half past 5 in the evening, when under normal circumstances Granddad Henry and young Janice were due home, near enough the whole family was gathered in Betty’s kitchen.  There was a very somber atmosphere. Granddad Henry had been revived from the immediate shock with several cups of tea. He and Penny, in their usual back of the train seats, had escaped the second greatest train crash in British history with a few cuts and bruises. Unfortunately all of those at the front of the train had been fatally wounded by the impact. Including Janice. Janice’s dad Jack stood amongst the family members in a daze. He had always believed that everybody had their time on this earth mapped out, and he often had said ‘when your time is up, its up there’s nothing you can do to change it’. He wasn’t quite sure what he believed now. I mean where was the sense of a 65 year old man surviving a 15 year old? Where was the sense in a parent burying his own child?


The days that followed were extremely difficult for the whole family. Dora busied herself with the other 5 children two of whom were still under ten, but she did this robotically, without thinking because thinking meant feeling. Granddad Henry took the whole event very badly, not only was he very shaken up by the accident he blamed himself for not waiting for his granddaughter on the platform. Jack, who had  took it upon himself to identify the body after it was finally recovered two days later from the wreck of the train was in shock. He insisted that the bloated face he had seen was not his pretty daughter’s.  At 40 his black-as-the-night-sky hair went white literally over night.


Years later the Great Harold and Wealdstone train crash was to haunt the nation’s memory as one of the most horrific train pile ups of all time. Janice’s story was to become fable to the next generation of the family, a tale of how fate took a bright young life, and a terrible loss to all those who still remembered her. Seven years and one day after the fateful tragedy a happy accident led to Dora giving birth to her third daughter who was to become in looks and personality a mirror of her elder sister Janice, and a comfort to her grieving parents.

Reviews
A human face
Written by Leo (573 comments posted) 5th June 2006
Poignant. By giving janice life in this piece you make her death all the more tragic. 
 
Belated advice.
Written by gerardconnolly (1186 comments posted) 6th June 2006
Thoughtful piece Brook. An uncomfortable read, which is what I would deduce it was intended to be. For what it is worth I have always thought your storytelling better than your poetry. And by that I mean that in my opinion the freedom to use words in a less economical fashion allows you to display a serious talent for astute communication. I am only one voice but this is a piece worth paying for. 
 
My suspicion is that you will turn out to be journalist as opposed to an occasional amateur subscriber. Certainly the development of your writing on this site in the few months I have been reading it leads me to think that way. My guess is that you should think more about prose fact and fiction and concentrate on a inimitable style of delivery. Pieces like this convince me at least that this is your surest way into the world of the professional writer you asked me about all those months ago. 
 
Again, well done.
Very sad
Written by Leigh (254 comments posted) 6th June 2006
This is extremely well written, Brook. I am sorry that such a thing happened to your family - you tell this story with real personal poignancy. 
 
Having read your intro, I could feel the sense of impending doom, knowing that either Janice or her friend or granddad (or all three) were going to be killed in this crash.  
 
I wanted to yell to Janice not to get on the train, to take the day off sick as her mother advised (knowing of course this would be futile as you can't change history). A response like this, to me, shows this must be a powerful piece of writing.
Thank you
Written by brook_rivers (486 comments posted) 6th June 2006
Thank you for all your comments. This piece was obviously very personal to me, and I have heard the story many times so I can't really take much credit for anything but writing it down! 
 
To leigh I think you picked up on the point of the story well - which was that very small decisions can actually have a big impact on your life. 
 
Thank you for your encouragement Gerard, I would absolutely love to be a professional writer and hopefully I'll get there one day!! 
 
Happy writing 
 
Brook :grin
I am totally stunned
Written by mishmish (389 comments posted) 6th June 2006
Brook, this piece, although short, is so, so powerful. It made me stunned to the core and actually made my heart ache.  
 
I read a lot but I haven't read anything lately that has touched me quite so deeply and so painfully as your story has. 
 
The way you brought to life Janice then swept her life away brought tears to my eyes. 
 
The line: "She gazed out of the train window watching the familiar scenes of her hometown slipping away as the train hurtled forwards on the track." captured the fact her life would soon be over, the 'slipping away' reference seemed quite prophetic. 
 
Your writing style is quite superb, and the comment from gerardconnolly holds true, you will be a professional writer very soon. 
 
Quite magnificient! 
 
best wishes 
 
mishmish
I agree
Written by Espiral (44 comments posted) 6th June 2006
I agree with Gerard that your free prose writing is very good, much stronger than your poetry or comedy. This is a heartfelt but not sentimental piece, and doesn't lose momentum at any point. 
 
Can I tentatively point out a couple of things I would change though?  
"She didn’t mind train journeys, she just hoped this would be an uneventful one." I feel this sentence is an unnecessary pointer of what is to come, perhaps you could leave it out, but that's my opinion. 
 
And the other thing is, where you keep emphasising that it was "the second greatest train crash in British history" or "one of the most horrific train pile ups of all time" - I don't think you need to keep pointing this out....it is clearly a nasty incident and whether 200 people died or 10 died, it is almost irrelevant to the intimate story we get here of how it affects one family.  
 
Again I want to say this is very well written, well done. Have your family read it? (You said some of them were involved)
Your forte perhaps...
Written by woody44 (777 comments posted) 6th June 2006
A poignant tale, well told Brook. I can see you abandoning Comedy and Poetry and concentrating on the equally difficult short story. I hate nit-picking because I make enough mistakes to paper a wall, but just watch the word `you`re` as in `Make sure you`re sensitive Peter`. A minor point, but once you start sending stuff to your publisher!... 
 
 
happy writing...

Written by brook_rivers (486 comments posted) 9th June 2006
Thanks very much for your advice guys! I like getting constructive critiques as it lets you know in what areas you need to improve!  
 
I have really enjoyed writing these first two short stories and will have a go at some more, I think the comedy was always a one off attempt but as for poetry thats what got me into writing, reading and this site in fact! So hopefully I will be carrying on with that ! 
 
thanks for all the encouragement 
 
brook :grin

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