Calling 911

This is not something I necessarily want to remember, but it's not going to be easily erased from my memory either, so I guess I'll write about it.

On our way home from seeing Santa we were stopped at a red light. The west road of the intersection crosses railroad tracks. I heard a train whistle blow and automatically looked to see where the train was. It was nearing the crossing. I also noticed a Toyota Tacoma driving east, approaching the crossing as well. Despite the nearing train, he didn't appear to be slowing down. His light was green after all. It was dark and though there were warning lights, I'm pretty sure his view of the train was blocked.

A knot began to form in my stomach for what was coming.

Freight train vs. small pick-up isn't really a fair match-up. I watched in horror as the train struck what appeared to be the driver's side cab. Sparks flew like crazy. The truck was powerfully pushed forward and sideways from the momentum and then the train blocked my view. I grabbed my phone, which was laying on the passenger seat, and quickly dialed 911. I have never called 911 before and I hope I never have to again. The whole situation brought on an uneasy adrenaline rush. Just as the dispatch answered I noticed flashing lights pulling up to the scene of the accident--that was fast!. So it became more of a "never-mind, it-looks-like-you-have-it-taken-care-of" call than anything else.  I told them I just witnessed a truck get hit by a train, but I could see flashing lights as the dispatcher simultaneously told me they had an officer at the scene.

Once I got home I impatiently checked the news websites to find out what happened to the driver.  It turns out the train struck closer to the engine compartment than the cab and he walked away with only minor injuries.  I'm not as traumatized now that I know he wasn't seriously injured.  It made me hold my kiddos a little closer though.  It's easy to forget just how quickly life can take a turn for the worse.