Sorry to hear that, hope your on the up nowThe best was the day I passed out as a mainline driver.
The worst was the day I was in a train crash.
Best day: starting my first shift as a signalman.
(On a more personal level, the worst day was being told by the regional doctor that my sight had deteriorated so much that I was permanently taken out of the box.)
Best and worst day was, for me, the same day - July 7th 2005. I was a manager in the London Underground Network Operations Centre at the time, and I was on duty in there when the bombs went off.
From the initial escalating chaos, we had to try and work out what the hell was going on, and make decisions on how to deal with it. My colleague ultimately made the decision to evacuate the whole network, and my initial task was liaison with line controllers to get regular updates on stalled trains, trapped passengers etc.
The police and emergency services used the conference room at the back of the centre for co-ordinating their actions on the ground. I noticed a number written on the bottom corner of a whiteboard that kept going up every time I went in there. It was a horrific moment when I realised it was the body count.
I won't claim I did anything remotely heroic that day, but I'm proud of the small part I played in dealing with the worst incident on London's transport network in many years, and I was commended for my actions. On the day, adrenaline took over and I didn't think too much about what I was doing, until about four o'clock in the afternoon, after my shift. I went and sat in St. James's Park to try and relax before heading home, and the full reality of what I'd just dealt with hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was never happier to see my family than I was that day, and I hugged my kids extra tight.
The days that followed were very stressful because everyone at work was so jumpy - we kept fearing a repeat of it all. A couple of weeks later I had bit of a breakdown at work one day as I was struggling to cope with it, but my manager was very supportive and got me some counselling via the occupational health people. That really helped.
Obviously, it was one of London's darkest days, but the positive response and solidarity shown by everyone involved was a wonderful thing to see. It reminded me that people are decent and strong and caring, and when faced with such monstrous hate, they won't crumble, but they'll rise to the challenge magnificently.
That must have been pretty devastating for you. Did you get much help or support?
Many thanks for sharing that. I’m sure we all remember where we were on that day, but you rather more sharply than most.
Best and worst day was, for me, the same day - July 7th 2005. I was a manager in the London Underground Network Operations Centre at the time, and I was on duty in there when the bombs went off.
From the initial escalating chaos, we had to try and work out what the hell was going on, and make decisions on how to deal with it. My colleague ultimately made the decision to evacuate the whole network, and my initial task was liaison with line controllers to get regular updates on stalled trains, trapped passengers etc.
The police and emergency services used the conference room at the back of the centre for co-ordinating their actions on the ground. I noticed a number written on the bottom corner of a whiteboard that kept going up every time I went in there. It was a horrific moment when I realised it was the body count.
I won't claim I did anything remotely heroic that day, but I'm proud of the small part I played in dealing with the worst incident on London's transport network in many years, and I was commended for my actions. On the day, adrenaline took over and I didn't think too much about what I was doing, until about four o'clock in the afternoon, after my shift. I went and sat in St. James's Park to try and relax before heading home, and the full reality of what I'd just dealt with hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was never happier to see my family than I was that day, and I hugged my kids extra tight.
The days that followed were very stressful because everyone at work was so jumpy - we kept fearing a repeat of it all. A couple of weeks later I had bit of a breakdown at work one day as I was struggling to cope with it, but my manager was very supportive and got me some counselling via the occupational health people. That really helped.
Obviously, it was one of London's darkest days, but the positive response and solidarity shown by everyone involved was a wonderful thing to see. It reminded me that people are decent and strong and caring, and when faced with such monstrous hate, they won't crumble, but they'll rise to the challenge magnificently.
I just have so much respect for the people who dealt with all the events of that day down at the scene. The Emergency services, railway men and women. I was working at St Mary's Hospital in Paddington that day. We received one polytrauma after another. We rehearsed for such things, but when it happens, you're never quite ready. It was a tough day, but we all agreed that the people who had to go down into those tunnels, the fire service, paramedics, police and of course the transport workers had it much worse than us.Best and worst day was, for me, the same day - July 7th 2005. I was a manager in the London Underground Network Operations Centre at the time, and I was on duty in there when the bombs went off.
From the initial escalating chaos, we had to try and work out what the hell was going on, and make decisions on how to deal with it. My colleague ultimately made the decision to evacuate the whole network, and my initial task was liaison with line controllers to get regular updates on stalled trains, trapped passengers etc.
The police and emergency services used the conference room at the back of the centre for co-ordinating their actions on the ground. I noticed a number written on the bottom corner of a whiteboard that kept going up every time I went in there. It was a horrific moment when I realised it was the body count.
I won't claim I did anything remotely heroic that day, but I'm proud of the small part I played in dealing with the worst incident on London's transport network in many years, and I was commended for my actions. On the day, adrenaline took over and I didn't think too much about what I was doing, until about four o'clock in the afternoon, after my shift. I went and sat in St. James's Park to try and relax before heading home, and the full reality of what I'd just dealt with hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was never happier to see my family than I was that day, and I hugged my kids extra tight.
The days that followed were very stressful because everyone at work was so jumpy - we kept fearing a repeat of it all. A couple of weeks later I had bit of a breakdown at work one day as I was struggling to cope with it, but my manager was very supportive and got me some counselling via the occupational health people. That really helped.
Obviously, it was one of London's darkest days, but the positive response and solidarity shown by everyone involved was a wonderful thing to see. It reminded me that people are decent and strong and caring, and when faced with such monstrous hate, they won't crumble, but they'll rise to the challenge magnificently.
I know all about that incident. Friends with the family of the deceased. Horrific.Best day: Getting the phone call with a course offer for trainee driver role. It’s a close one though to getting a letter in 2006 offering me my first railway job (after all, that paved the way for my career).
Worst day: Saturday, 30 March 2013 at about 2340hrs. Having a brew in the BTP office where I was based at the time, we were called to a fight on the platform. On arrival we were first on scene to the apparent fight and we were quickly told there was someone on the track. Looked up the track and could see a slumped over body. He was involved in a fight as the train was pulling out of the station and subsequently dragged underneath it. my colleagues and I then found ourselves dealing with a crime scene, as well as distraught friends and other witnesses.
Not a great night, and I found myself conducting a scene log (logging everyone in and out of the station) during the subsequent closer of the station too. I recall also that it was the night the clocks went forward too (well, the 31st was), so my 1am finish (accounting for the clock change) turned in to a 4am finish. It wasn’t the worst day for me as such, but certainly a very dark one for all involved. We worked well as a team, but it’s one of those fatalities that are the worst kind: an accident (ish).
Absolute heroBest and worst day was, for me, the same day - July 7th 2005. I was a manager in the London Underground Network Operations Centre at the time, and I was on duty in there when the bombs went off.
From the initial escalating chaos, we had to try and work out what the hell was going on, and make decisions on how to deal with it. My colleague ultimately made the decision to evacuate the whole network, and my initial task was liaison with line controllers to get regular updates on stalled trains, trapped passengers etc.
The police and emergency services used the conference room at the back of the centre for co-ordinating their actions on the ground. I noticed a number written on the bottom corner of a whiteboard that kept going up every time I went in there. It was a horrific moment when I realised it was the body count.
I won't claim I did anything remotely heroic that day, but I'm proud of the small part I played in dealing with the worst incident on London's transport network in many years, and I was commended for my actions. On the day, adrenaline took over and I didn't think too much about what I was doing, until about four o'clock in the afternoon, after my shift. I went and sat in St. James's Park to try and relax before heading home, and the full reality of what I'd just dealt with hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was never happier to see my family than I was that day, and I hugged my kids extra tight.
The days that followed were very stressful because everyone at work was so jumpy - we kept fearing a repeat of it all. A couple of weeks later I had bit of a breakdown at work one day as I was struggling to cope with it, but my manager was very supportive and got me some counselling via the occupational health people. That really helped.
Obviously, it was one of London's darkest days, but the positive response and solidarity shown by everyone involved was a wonderful thing to see. It reminded me that people are decent and strong and caring, and when faced with such monstrous hate, they won't crumble, but they'll rise to the challenge magnificently.
...months waiting for NR to make a decision about my future, eventually resulting in medical dismissal.
And then there was sueing NR for Industrial Injuries, but I did win that!
BEST
The day I passed out and was able to go onto the roster for my signalbox.
WORST
Nearly at the end of a night shift when, as I pulled a lever for an Up Freight something in my hand snapped and started to hurt like hell. Drove home to sleep leaving a message for my wife to make an urgent appointment with my Doctor for when I woke up. Woke up, rang the LOM to tell him I wouldn't be in that night and why, and then went to see the Dr. Turned out I had torn a ligament in my hand which he could see and feel.
All this was followed by over 6months waiting for an operation, then failing my return to work medical because I now have little strength in my right hand and then months waiting for NR to make a decision about my future, eventually resulting in medical dismissal.
And then there was sueing NR for Industrial Injuries, but I did win that!