Death On The Underground

One reason for the interruption in my postings yesterday was a day out and about in London: yes, for once I had something better to do. The capital was quiet overhead – none of the almost continuous drone of planes approaching Heathrow, or the buzz of STOL jets around City Airport – but nevertheless heaving with tourists, whether around the sights, or on the Tube.

Also in evidence on London’s Underground yesterday were a number of disruptions due to, as they put it, “a person under a train”. In fact, there were three such disruptions during the day: the idea of three people desperate enough to end their lives sat uneasily with the crowds of tourists milling around Buckingham Palace, and City workers at lunch in the spring sunshine.

Even more disquieting was the news that, at one of the three locations, there are telephones on the platforms that link through to the Samaritans. Stations on the Underground are for most of us just another place where we get on or off trains: for anyone to view them as a final sight of the world is something I find troubling.

And I can only hope that, the next time, someone picks up that phone first.