This is a very different sort of post for me. But perhaps it isn’t.  It is a part of my story. It’s about feeling something. Something that moved me and brought me to an understanding…about life…and about me.
It happened on a Monday. Around 10:30 am. Engine #102 and her 5 passenger cars were traveling south when she hit a rock slide that had landed on the tracks. It happened just outside of Northfield. The town I live in. Â I heard about it while I was at work.
Photo courtesy of WCAX.com
The rock slide had happened during the night sometime. And it was on a sharp curve on a remote section of the track. It truly came out of nowhere. Â And there was no avoiding it. Â Engine #102 hit the rock slide head on. She derailed. Â
Photos courtesy of Ken Hepburn
Down the deep ravine she fell. Â She detached from the rest of the cars. Â She came to a rest on her side near a river.
Photo courtesy of WCAX.com
Emergency crews rushed to get there. But it was difficult. This section of track was not easy to get to. Â It took some time. Â
Photo courtesy of WCAX.com
Amazingly, no one was seriously injured. Â The conductor suffered a few broken ribs. Â The rest of the crew and the 95 passengers on board were unharmed. Â A miracle. Â
Photo courtesy of Brian Bell and WCAX.com
The news crews descended upon our small town. Â The people who live here sprang to action, providing water and food and shelter. Â The emergency crews worked tirelessly for days upon end.
Photos courtesy of Ken Hepburn
Engine #102 lay in the ravine, on her side for over a week. They had to build roads to get her out. They had to bring in special equipment. Â They also had to clear the tracks and get the trains back on schedule.
Photo courtesy of one of the machine operators. I didn’t get his name…
It was a monumental effort. Â It was impressive. This effort to save engine #102 and bring her out.
It was because, although her shell was battered, her engine was still intact. Â It was worth it to bring her out. Â She still had a lot of life left in her.
And then, on a Saturday afternoon, they got her out. Â 6 days after she had fallen into the ravine. Â A huge transport vehicle brought her out of the woods, down a dirt road and into town. 100 tons of metal moving at a speed of 2 miles per hour. It took 2 hours to go the 4 miles into town.
http://www.wptz.com/news/northfield-roads-to-close-while-amtrak-locomotive-removed/35766442
I missed it.  I had plans and couldn’t stay to watch.  I hoped that it would still be happening when I returned from dinner, so I could see her.
But when I got back to town, all was quiet. There was no evidence that anything of that proportion had happened. Â And I was curious. Â I wanted to know where she was. Â Was it possible that they had loaded her onto a flatbed and sent her down the tracks to be repaired already? Â How could that be? Â I wondered and thought and then investigated.
I drove to the nearest train station in the next town over.  She wasn’t there. But the 5 passenger cars were.  I marveled at the damage and how incredible it was that no one was hurt badly.  And I felt incredibly grateful.  I also felt something else.  An awe at not only the integrity of these train cars, but at the people who coordinated this immense operation. And most of all a deep sense of gratitude.  The mangled cars did their job. They kept their passengers safe.
Photo courtesy of WCAX.com
But where was Engine #102? When I got home, I scoured the internet.  I looked at the news footage.  And then I saw it.  I saw her coming into town and turning down Wall St.  And I knew. I knew where she was.  She hadn’t left town yet.  She was in the old train yard just a few blocks from where I live.
So I went down there.  It was late.  And as I pulled into the freight yard I could see the bright spotlights and I could see Engine #102.  And I could see the Amtrak police watching over her.  So I didn’t stay.
The next morning, I heard strange noises outside. Â The sounds of engines and heavy equipment. Â I knew what was happening. Â I rushed down to the freight yard.
They were getting her ready I found out. Â They were going to load her onto a flatbed car pulled by a large cargo locomotive and bring her to Indiana, where she would be fixed and brought back to her original state. Â I stayed and watched this amazing feat of engineering. 100 tons of metal lifted up and onto a flatbed. Â It took a few hours. Â I stayed and watched it all. Â And then…once she was secure…they took off. Heading to the next town over. Â They needed to secure her more carefully for the long journey to Indiana.
I stopped by the train station today. Â I knew she was still there. Â I wanted to see her one last time. I wanted to say goodbye. Â I wanted to see the end of this story.
As I got into my car and drove away, I felt tears on my face. Â Why, I wondered, had this train captured my heart so deeply? Â Why did I feel something for this hunk of metal? It made no sense to me.
Yet it did make sense. Â Engine #102 symbolized strength. Â She reminded me that things happen. Â Bad things. That we fall down. Â We get hurt. Â And that we get wounded and broken sometimes.
And with a little help we get back up. Back on track. Our broken parts get mended. We survive and learn to live again.
Engine #102 is part of my story. Â And I will never forget her.