Originally Posted by
cindyt
Double tracks run through the center of my city. In 1999, four days before Christmas, I walked to town and was sitting on a park bench when I happened to look up and see a copter circling around my block. (A train was stopped on the eastbound tracks, but I didn't think anything about it.) I thought the copter was the police looking for a bailer or something, and I decided to go home. I crossed the tracks and was met by crowds of people lining the street. As I walked on down the sidewalk I saw my mother running toward me. She grabbed me in her arms and said "Cindy! I thought it was you!" Turns out the nine year old boy who lived next door to us ran across the tracks to get a Pokemon card he had been wanting for a long time; on the way back he saw the eastbound train stopped, ran around the engine and head long into the engine of the westbound train. Killed him instantly. It was a horrible time, especially at Christmas. Eventually his parents and surviving siblings had to move away, because every time a train went by they were reminded of their loss.