Rushing to catch the train at the San Juan railway halt, Annabella Alloy, nee Merjaries, 13 at the time, missed it by a hair's breadth. Sadly, she lost her left leg. The fateful day was October 29, 1962. A few weeks ago, Alloy revisited the experience which she labelled "serendipity." The Little Oxford dictionary defines serendipity as: "The faculty of making happy discoveries by accident." Flashing a smile that illuminates her freckles, Alloy said: "I would say it was serendipity. Something good came out of the train accident. "I was able to raise a family. It did not deter me from living a happy life." Admitting she overcame social insecurities, Alloy added: "I think getting married to Carl and having my children put me in a safe place. "If I turned up somewhere late I would think people were looking."
She mothered former Guardian photographer Karla Ramoo, Ana Lisa, Aalon, Karl and Christian.
Offering words of consolation, Alloy said: "Adults get depressed when they lose a limb. You can still be happy. That's why I say it's serendipity." An onlooker would think she's "once bitten twice shy." Alloy begs to differ. "I am all for train. I think trains can alleviate traffic woes." Based on modern technology and equipment, Alloy is confident accidents can be avoided. She added: "The platform would be constructed differently. "There would be no space for commuters to fall through. Less crowds in the city. Less accidents...unless two trains collide."
The fateful day
Alloy remembers taking a sip of home-brewed coffee at her parents Quintin and Marjorie Merjaries' Silver Mill, San Juan, home. "It was strange because my mother could not get me to eat breakfast." Armed with her short-handled bag of books, she left for Osmond High School, at 10th Avenue, Barataria. Suddenly, perfect timing went horribly wrong. Alloy said: "As I drew closer and I jumped on the train, the station master waved the green flag. I jumped on at the same time. I lost my balance. I never knew about hopping. My school bag pulled me. "The next thing I knew I was between the two carriages. I don't know if it was fright. I passed out for a second or two." Eventually, her conscious mind registered. "The left foot was across the train line. It was crushed and fractured. Not severed. The right one was straight."
As a small crowd surged forward, Alloy kept thinking it could have been worse. "Again, I would say it was serendipity. I was lucky it was the "brake van" (the last carriage for transporting cargo). It would have been worse. "It passed on my left leg...I could see it passing over my left leg. Something told me to stay straight like a pin. I was still in shock." A deafening silence reigned. "Everybody was in shock. I started screaming. I told them my name. Go tell my mother." An ambulance whisked her to the Port-of-Spain General Hospital.
She mused: "It was the longest ride from San Juan to Port-of-Spain. The attendant was in a mess...cold sweating. He was frightened. He could not deal with the situation. He kept muttering about children..."
Her leg amputated
Medical personnel fought to save the leg but there were no microscopic surgeons. "By Day Five, I was experiencing excruciating pains. The dreaded gangrene was stepping in. The late, great surgeon Master Fong amputated it. "After the surgery I had my 'phantom leg' ...The feeling that the leg is still there. I had felt no emotion, no sadness or happiness...Just terrible pain." Alloy proceeded to walk. She fell on the bandaged stump and the floodgates broke. "I cried like a baby. I could not use the crutches properly. The physiotherapist said I could not go home unless I co-operated." Unknown to loved ones, Alloy suffered amnesia. "Months after, the details of the accident came back." Quizzed on whether she had forgiven the locomotive driver, Alloy said: "I don't hold anything against him. I've moved on. I remember he was grumpy." A nagging fear remains. "I don't know if he saw me and wanted to teach me a lesson. People would put children to kneel on graters."
Alloy's advances
Before migrating to New York in 1989, she earned her living as a seamstress. Patting herself on the back, Alloy said: "I worked like other West Indians. I was a caregiver to the elderly. I drove to Florida with patients." Guffawing intuitively, Alloy added: "Never took the train here. I went to school with a taxi after. But I took the train in the US. I even pounded a bus that missed me." Alloy shared one of her treasured experiences. "At 17, I was a pure and sweet/dancing queen." "My father took my friend Phyllis Fong and me to Normandie. "I was hesitant. I said the majority of people are tourists. In true Trini style, I got up and started dancing. Daddy was elated. I was even nicknamed Dancero." Equally proud is Ramoo. She said: "She has worked hard. She has overcome obstacles. I am proud of her."
