BLAINE TSCHIDA
U.S. Army Pacific
Joint Base Lewis-McChord, Washington

It was winter break in Montana, and I was a senior in high school. A few of us on the basketball team were staying with a friend over the weekend. To get to his house, I had to cross some train tracks. At this railroad crossing, there weren’t any warning lights, bells or arms that automatically lowered — just stop signs on either side of the tracks. I’d been to this friend’s house numerous times and, although I’d never seen a train at that crossing, I always stopped.

When we woke up the next morning, we realized we were already running late for basketball practice. I was waiting for a friend to get ready when he decided to just drive himself. It had rained the previous evening before the temperature dropped below 20 degrees. When I got to my car, the windshield was covered in a sheet of ice. I was already pressed for time, so I quickly scraped the windshield while my car warmed up and then took off. The road was icy, and although I had experience driving in winter-weather conditions, I was not prepared for what happened next.

I was driving carefully, but as I approached the stop sign by the railroad crossing, I misjudged the stopping distance and slid past it. I ended up dead center on the tracks. I wasn’t worried, though, because, as I said before, I’d never seen a train at this crossing. As I gently pressed on the gas to move my car, I heard the worst sound of my life — a very distinct and loud horn blast.

I looked out of my passenger-side window and saw a train bearing down on me. I immediately stomped on the gas, but my car didn’t move. I then shifted to reverse and gunned it again. I was only able to move about a foot back when the train struck.

I heard and felt a loud crash as my car spun off the tracks for what felt like an eternity, coming to rest in a nearby ditch. I couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. Was I really just hit by a train? I could only sit there dumbfounded, unaware if I was even alive. The passenger side of my car was pushed all the way to the center console. Everything inside had been thrown into the front, and there was broken glass everywhere. My head hurt and my hands were bleeding.

Shortly after the collision, my friend pulled up next to my car, yelling at me to respond. He’d seen the whole event transpire. All I heard was his muffled voice, but I couldn’t respond. I was dazed and confused. Once I came to, I looked at him in relief because I realized that if he could see me, I must have survived, which gave me an overwhelming sense of relief.

When I looked into my cracked rearview mirror, I saw the train had stopped and the white-as-a-ghost engineer was running toward my car. I’m sure he was expecting to find me dead and was thankful to see me get out and start walking around. Shortly afterward, family and friends, as well as an ambulance, showed up at the scene to check on me. The blood on my hands was due to the broken glass, but besides that and a bump on my head, I was fine. Obviously, my car was destroyed. Had my friend been riding with me, he would not have survived. I later learned that I was one of four train versus personal vehicle accidents at that railroad crossing. Of the four, I was the only driver that lived to tell the tale.

There were multiple factors that saved my life. First, my seat belt was fastened; if it wasn’t, I would have been thrown all over the car or ejected. Second, the engineer had installed a snowplow on the front of the engine that morning. That helped deflect my car when I moved back that short distance while stopped on the tracks. If I’d stayed centered, the train more than likely would have picked up my car and rolled it down the tracks. Finally, I stayed in the car. If I had tried to get out before the train struck, I would have been crushed. I often look back on that day and imagine how much worse it could have been. Luck was definitely on my side.

Railroad Crossing Basics

According to Federal Railroad Administration statistics, 2,260 highway-rail grade crossing collisions occurred in the United States in 2024. In those collisions, there were 261 crossing fatalities and 762 crossing injuries. Operation Lifesaver, a nonprofit organization and nationally recognized leader of rail safety education, offers the following tips.

1. Freight trains don't travel at fixed times. Schedules for passenger trains often change. Always expect a train.
2. All train tracks are private property. Never walk on tracks; it's illegal trespassing and highly dangerous.
3. It takes the average freight train traveling 55 mph more than a mile — the length of 18 football fields — to stop. Trains cannot stop quickly.
4. The average locomotive weighs about 400,000 pounds, or 200 tons, and can weigh up to 6,000 tons. This makes the weight ratio of a car to a train proportional to that of a soda can to a car. We all know what happens to a soda can hit by a car.
5. Trains have the right of way 100 percent of the time over pedestrians and vehicles, including police and emergency vehicles.
6. Trains overhang tracks. Stay 15 feet back from the tracks. Always assume railroad tracks are in use, even if there are weeds or the track looks unused.
7. Trains can move on any track in either direction at any time. Sometimes its cars are pushed by locomotives instead of being pulled, which is especially true in commuter and light-rail passenger service.
8. Trains are quieter and move faster than you think. Today's trains are quieter than ever, producing no telltale "clackety-clack."
9. Remember to cross train tracks ONLY at designated pedestrian or roadway crossings and obey warning signs and signals posted there.
10. Stay alert around railroad tracks. Refrain from texting, using headphones or other distractions that would prevent you from hearing an approaching train. Never mix rails and recreation.

For additional information, visit Operation Lifesaver at https://oli.org.