Tackling trauma in the workplace
South Western Railway’s Mark Lawson on turning personal experience into support for colleagues.
In 2012, working as a driver manager, I was involved in a fatality and felt completely unprepared for what followed. Everything changed when a colleague handed me a book and I read an Underground driver’s account of their own experience. While reading, I understood that my feelings were both valid and shared by others.
A traumatic incident is an event that falls outside your normal experience, is sufficiently serious or severe, and carries the potential to inflict physical, emotional, or psychological harm.
While some people may come through such an incident with little or no apparent impact, others may develop trauma. Trauma is a lasting emotional reaction that can manifest in many forms—sadness, anxiety, emotional detachment, or the intrusive re-experiencing of the event. There are numerous other valid responses, as shown in the two examples below.
Coming up to a station, I had a sip of water and put my bottle back into its holder. There was a small group towards country end of platform and a guy dressed all in black walking towards the London end of platform. Then he turned 90 degrees and ran at the train.
It took a couple of seconds, but it felt like ages, to realise what had happened and smash the brake in. Once the train had stopped, I made an emergency call. I managed to get the info out but wasn’t great, and I wasn’t very happy with the signaller’s response. I was lucky that a guard’s assessor was on board. He came to check on me as soon as we’d exchanged comms.
The paramedics arrived right as my adrenaline was starting to decrease and shock was setting in. They were brilliant, and I can’t thank them enough. I was then told that I hadn’t yet contacted the fatality hotline, and I had to do it immediately. I found this quite unsettling and distressing, having to do this so soon after the event. I was still trying to process what happened.
When the driver manager arrived, we had a quick chat and he was really comforting. He explained a few things and told me what was going to happen next. I filled in some paperwork, and he organised a taxi to take me home. I’m quite comfortable in my own skin, but I think if this had happened to a newly qualified driver or a younger driver it might have a bigger impact on their wellbeing.
The incident has affected me in more ways than I had ever imagined. I’ve developed anxieties that I had never experienced before, such as panic attacks, which are completely debilitating, and social anxiety. I still feel quite overwhelmed when in large groups or open spaces where there are likely to be many people gathering.
I get easily frustrated and little things make my stress levels rise very quickly compared to before the incident. The biggest impact has been on my family. You don’t really think of the impact something like this will have on everyone around you, but they face the daily rollercoaster of emotions with you.
What helped me cope was the ability to talk about my experience with family, friends, colleagues, and specialists. The outreach from colleagues was staggering, and I was able to speak to people about their experiences and what helped them.
My local railway chaplain has been unbelievably supportive, and I urge anyone who is unfortunate enough to experience anything like this to reach out to theirs. I tried to keep my days filled with activity, as being alone can be extremely detrimental to your state of wellbeing. I went for coffee with friends, regular daily walks and kept some sort of structure and routine.
The first fatality I witnessed was after 34 years of driving. I remember reducing the speed from 90 mph to 70 mph. As I was almost at the platform, I noticed a man who looked like he was jogging on the spot. I saw him take a couple of steps towards the edge of the platform and realised what was about to happen, so I put the brake into emergency and saw him leap into my path.
He hit the vestibule just below with a hell of a bang and vanished. I ended up getting relief and going back to the depot. Some time later I received a call to inform me the person was in fact a fellow driver. As you can imagine, it was quite a shock. This fatality affected me for a while; it took a long time to get my head round it. Eventually, I realised there was nothing I could do to prevent it from happening. It was his choice.
The second was seven months later. A youngster jumped off the platform while I was working a fast service. He ended up in the four-foot, and I went over the top of him. This one was probably a bit worse, as I had time to weigh up in my mind what was going on. The noise was worse, too. I hit the red button to get everything blocked and the power switched off. I know nothing about him.
I felt emotionally detached from this fatality. I gave my statement to the BTP and had some contact from them. But, as I said, I never found out anything about him. The BTP were excellent on both occasions. They checked to make sure I was OK and checked on the guard. They also helped look after the passengers.
The driver/guard’s managers who attended were also excellent and looked after us. I did receive some counselling, and it helped. But I think nearly 40 years of railway work had prepared me for the day it happened.
The support of my colleagues, family and friends was also helpful. I have found it straightforward to put it all behind me and move on.