How was your commute? My train hit a flatbed

I was on the head-end car of this.

http://www.boston.com/news/globe/city_region/breaking_news/2006/10/train_hits_truc.html

I’m fine and not one of the 20 treated with minor injuries.

I’m glad you’re fine.

AFAIR this is the second traincrash by a QT3 regular, which proves that trains are really dangerous and we should all drive or fly to work (one regular at the pub I used to work communted to the roof of his office every morning in his personal chopper - that’s what I’m trying for at my next wage renegotiation)

Yikes! Glad you’re ok.

As of next monday, my commute will be getting out of bed and walking 15 feet to the computer. This suits me just fine.

Lucky. By the time I walk through the living room and go downstairs into the basement, I probably have to go 75 feet.

If I had to endure that, I’d probably crash into the dog.

Maybe I should leave the laptop on the bedside table, just to be safe… :)

Hey, I’ve had that commute for the last 2 years. It’s not too shabby. You’ll think it’s all roses until you realize you haven’t been out of the house for 4 days in a row. Just be careful of that situation, and you’ll be fine.

On topic, I was also in train crash in Stamford, CT once on my way home from my job in Manhattan. Unlike your crash, it was an individual trying to commit suicide rather than just an oversight with some construction equipment. Unfortunately, the individual in question didn’t realize that the Metro-North line through Stamford runs, at most, at around 30mph, and as close as he was to the station, it was down to nearly 15mph when it connected with his SUV. Still damaging enough to the car that the whole train felt the impact, and I nearly dropped my laptop. They hustled us all off the train into buses, and got us to our correction stations. The guy survived, got charged with all sorts of things, and went to jail.

Could you be…Unbreakable!

You are a superhero!

Glad you’re ok. I wish St. Louis actually had a train system that usable for more than a narrow section of the city - we have a light rail, but it only serves a narrow strip of locations. It’s cars or buses for us, and the buses can be a pain too.

Best excuse for being late to work EVAR!

Even better with no injuries.

Yikes. Good to hear you’re OK. You owe a lot to the alert engineer that hit the brakes early, hopefully he’s OK too.

Side question, what the heck do all your work at home types do for a living? Journalists? Programmers?

I’ve always joked that as an IT Manager, I’ll be the only guy left working in the building when everyone else is working from home. I’ll be here flipping the switches, swapping the tapes and patching the servers all by my lonesome. Come to think of it, that doesn’t sound too bad…

That’s definitely the worst part of it. Spending upwards of 20 hours a day in the same place wears on you. I need to figure out a better way to mix up my time in the house and outside of it. It really doesn’t help that winter’s kicking in and the only thing worse than being inside all day is being outside at -30.

As for the train… glad you’re alright. How does a truck get stuck on the tracks, though?

You kidding? I took the day off.

I have no idea where my baseball hat ended up and I found my PSP three rows away, still working.

It was a low-bed trailer with a piece of construction equipment, and there’s a grade on the tracks. There’s a sign that says “no low-beds on crossing.”

The stupid truck driver may have ignored warning signs that low bed trucks shouldn’t use that crossing. Bet he pays more attention in his next job.

WERD.

I’m glad you’re okay, Mark. This quote made me chuckle. From the MSNBC article:

Eighteen people and the engineer, who warned passengers to brace for impact, were hurt in the 8 a.m. crash, he said. Most had been released from hospitals by afternoon.

What did he say? I can imagine what I would say, but I’m not so sure it would have warned anyone else aboard the train what was about to happen. Would you brace yourself if someone yelled, FUCK A DUCK!

“The crossing is at a slight incline. The low-bed truck bottomed out and became stuck on the tracks,” Pesaturo said. He said a sign warned that such trucks shouldn’t attempt that crossing.

I’ve driven a truck for a living and my boss always reminded us how tall our cabs were, so we didn’t get stuck under a bridge (happens all the time). Low bed trucks are a new one on me. How would you even know if you’re truck fits into that catagory?

Glad you’re ok Mark, it is frightening to be completely out of control in accidents like that.

You’re probably thinking of me (thread here), but I didn’t realize Mystery was in one as well. We need to start a club, and the rest of you should avoid the Qt3 Commuter Train Curse.

The NTSB report on my wreck basically blamed intersection design. I drove through that intersection a couple weeks ago, and it still has not been changed. GG Burbank.

The one hypothesis no one’s thrown out in the media, because they are quick to throw the driver under the train (sorry, couldn’t resist) is that it’s a narrow, dead-end street and the cab was facing the main road. It’s entirely possible he was backing the rig down the street and thus couldn’t have seen the sign.

Someone should have warned the driver, but I’m not willing to blame this all on him without hearing his side of the story.

What did he say? I can imagine what I would say, but I’m not so sure it would have warned anyone else aboard the train what was about to happen. Would you brace yourself if someone yelled, FUCK A DUCK!

He yelled, “HOLD ON!” WHAM!.

This was one of those wide-load trailer beds that has construction equipment on it. It looks like it rode about 6" off the ground.

My contribution to the qt3 train accident curse, though it wasn’t an accident.

Sometime in 2000, I was standing at the platform at New Cross train station in London. On the other side of the tracks, on the opposite platform, a scruffy-looking gentleman, in a huge, heavy blue coat, stood near the edge, carrying a massive stack of papers. A train was entering the station on its way through – not a high-speed one, but not planning to stop there, either.

I heard a friend call my name, and turned to greet her. We exchanged a few words about the day, about the times, about people we knew.

I heard a strange noise, then the screech of brakes, and turned to see the train grinding against the railtrack. The sky was filled with white sheets, a blizzard of paper flapping around the carriages, whipped into a frenzy by them.

I remember thinking, “Oh, he must have dropped his papers.”

As the train ground to a halt, awareness of what had taken place wordlessly filtered around the station, commuters silently looking at one another as if to confirm it. The train just slowed down little by little, and inexorably our eyes were drawn to the space beneath it, waiting, waiting for it to pass, hoping that the train would just stop, stop in time to spare us the sight of what was beneath it.

When the final carriage rolled on, the quiet was broken by a wave of quiet wails and sobs. Still the papers fell, spiraling around, blowing off over the fence and into the city.

All I recall is that the remains were naked.

Someone from the coroner’s office came to see me a few weeks later to see if I was worth summoning to the inquest. It turned out the guy was a Sri Lankan migrant. The stack comprised, if memory serves, of bankruptcy, divorce and immigration papers.

I think anyone who commutes in a major city has to deal with this sooner or later.