Episode 8 Real Lives Reunited

Ordinary people, extraordinary moments.

I shouldn't have survived, to be honest,

but for whatever reason, I fought back.

Strangers thrown together by disaster,

never to see each other again.

They would not be alive if it wasn't for my husband.

And the everyday heroes who risked everything.

Such a brave man, he went back in three or four times.

People are nice, people are good.

People's humanity shone though.

Brought together by fate, separated by life - Real Lives Reunited.

Today, survivors of one of the country's worst rail disasters

meet for the first time in over a decade.

The devastation is something you can't describe.

You survived and others didn't.

A community honours the hero who risked his life to save them.

Reis Leming single-handedly managed to rescue

27 people from the flood waters.

And a footballer whose heart stopped on the pitch

thanks those who brought him back from the brink.

I couldn't believe how good, you know, they were.

It brought everyone together.

In 1999, Britain prepared itself for the beginning of a new millennium.

The internet was in its infancy

and despite fears of the millennium bug, London was booming.

But on 5th October,

as commuters made their regular journeys to and from the capital,

thousands of lives were about to be changed forever.

Two commuter trains crashed and burst into flames.

It ignited an inferno of flames...

..Turning out to be far worse than anybody had feared.

Tonight, it is clear the death toll here has risen dramatically.

It was just this mass of raw, roaring red and orange flames.

That's when I honestly thought, "I'm dead."

Philip Scotcher was a 24-year-old design consultant

travelling on the busy 6:03am train from Cheltenham to Paddington.

It felt like it was a, generally speaking, a bit of a quiet day

and I would normally do one of two things,

which was either read a book

or generally catch up on some sleep,

if I could.

Travelling on the same train

was 37-year-old procurement manager Janette Orr.

It was a normal day, autumn day, it was in October,

quite a nice sunny day, a little bit chilly.

Actually managed to get a seat, which is good.

Towards the front of the train

was 46-year-old financial advisor Pam Warren.

I sat in the first-class carriage

and we trundled off towards Paddington.

But their commute was about to be shattered.

As Philip and Janette's train approached London,

a series of catastrophic safety failures meant the 8:06 Thames train

departing Paddington was set on a collision course with theirs.

Out of absolutely nowhere, the most almighty bang.

It was just quiet.

It was very, very quiet.

And that's when I looked over my shoulder

and saw the fireball coming down the carriage straight at us

and that's when I honestly thought, "I'm dead. I'm going to die."

There was just this mass of raw, roaring red and orange flame

and then I absolutely started panicking.

The packed commuter trains collided head-on at a combined speed

of over 120 miles per hour and immediately burst into flames.

Pam, sat in first class, was close to the point of impact.

To begin with, I wasn't sure whether I was dead or alive,

I couldn't work it out. I could hear my hair crackling

and I could feel my clothes crisping and...

So all I want to do is get out of the carriage.

Coach H was actually tipped on its side,

so I just swivelled myself, using my hands,

swivelled my legs over the lip of the window and jumped.

When I stood up,

that's when I realised there was something wrong with me.

My legs wouldn't work.

Where I jumped out, I was actually in the middle of the crash,

so the two trains were on either side.

Unable to walk and badly burned, Pam was stranded.

Philip was luckier and managed to get out of his carriage

on the right side of the tracks.

Instantly turned to my right, at the time it was unrecognisable,

but it would have been the front of the Thames train,

which had obviously had the head-on collision

with the First Great Western,

come up over on its side and it'd landed probably what was

still a couple of carriages' distance away from where I got off.

The passengers in Janette's carriage were in a state of complete shock.

So I started trying to gather people around,

obviously people were injured, trying to help them up.

My fear was that there was another train coming along

and was that just going to crash into the back of us?

That was what I was worried about.

With no thought for his own safety,

Philip started to help those around him.

The first thing I saw was a lady lying asking for help

who looked very badly burned.

She had little, she had little patches of fire on her body

where her clothing were on fire.

I remember just quickly putting that fire out, as quickly as I could.

Philip and Janette pulled some of the injured

away from the devastation as emergency teams raced to the scene.

Police officer Bill Foster arrived minutes after the crash.

The devastation is something you can't describe.

You just don't imagine these things will just

fold like a pack of playing cards.

31 people were killed that day.

The aftermath affected survivors and rescuers alike.

Bill worked for 12 hours to help the severely injured off the tracks

and on to hospital.

Myself and another of my colleagues,

we volunteered to go back into the search phase,

so from the next day, seven o'clock in the morning,

we were on site.

And I remained there right up until the end,

when it was handed back to the railway. I've never got over it.

Um... It lives with me.

To be faced with the carnage that you have

and literally seeing body bags lining up,

that's something that hits you.

I do feel lucky, but you also feel guilty as well.

You survived and others didn't.

Survivors and rescuers have all struggled to deal

with the disaster in the years that followed,

but for former police officer Bill,

today is an opportunity to ask a question

that's haunted him for over 13 years -

did he do enough?

'I'm looking forward to meeting the survivors,

'because do they really think that we helped them?'

Could we have done better?

Could I have done better?

You are the first two people I've ever met from that train

after the event.

I always wonder how we could have done things differently

and could we have done it better?

I think you and all your colleagues

can be incredibly proud of what you did.

I think you did a superb job

and you probably haven't been told that enough, so...

It could have been so much worse.

I think so many more people could have lost their lives or been

more seriously injured.

But it's thanks to the efforts

of the professional services on that day.

From my perspective, they were superb.

I definitely concur that, definitely.

That's very kind.

We all say we were doing our job and I say as well, it was our job,

we had to do it. You had no choice, you were there. So...

-Thank goodness.

-Yeah.

-Thank goodness.

The police, they've obviously got a job to do,

for them to show their human side, to say, "Yes, whilst this is my job

"and I know I've got to do that, actually it impacted me this way."

And it would be really nice to understand that.

It's lovely to hear your comments,

and I know that there will be a lot of officers out there who will

take a lot of pride in what you said, myself included.

And I know the memories will haunt you and they'll be there,

they're here for everyone,

but it's lovely to see you and it's nice to hear you.

-It's nice to meet you.

-..moving on.

I think it'll be with us all of our lives

and it's...by meeting more people, it's a way of helping

to understand it that little bit more,

which is only a good thing, only a good thing.

Later, the incredible story of Pam Warren,

trapped and horrifically burned by the side of the tracks.

But there's nothing you can do, I mean,

you just resign yourself to the fact that you're going to die.

I must admit, I didn't think Pam was going to make it.

The chaos of a man-made disaster can be horrific,

but nothing compares to the unpredictable and deadly power of nature.

On 31st January 1953, a huge storm was brewing in the North Sea.

That night, it swept the length of the UK

bringing death and destruction.

'307 people killed.

'32,000 made homeless.'

But it would also create heroes in its wake.

Reis Leming single-handedly managed to rescue

27 people from the flood waters.

We can never thank them enough for what they did.

'An intense depression near north east Scotland is moving south east

'into Northern Ireland and England.'

Depression off the west coast of Scotland deepened

as it moved down the North Sea.

And then, it was coupled by hurricane-force winds

which ended up driving the equivalent to a tsunami.

The huge surge of water was headed straight

for the seaside town of Hunstanton, in Norfolk.

87-year-old Neil Quincey is a lifelong resident

and was living on the seafront with his young family

at the time of the storm.

You get enough days when the wind is probably blowing

nearly up to gale force,

but that's normal for people that live on the coast.

But on the evening of 31st January 1953,

Hunstanton residents would be stunned

by the speed and brutality of the storm.

There was an area called the Hunstanton Gap

where the sea defences were little or nothing at all.

And it gushed through there

and in line with the bungalows facing it, just took them away.

In the space of, what, less than an hour,

they were just, no longer existed.

The storm surge forced Neil

and his terrified family to the second floor of their home,

but with winds of over 100 miles per hour and the tide rising,

they were trapped by the deadly storm.

It was absolutely pitch dark.

It was just like if someone was throwing

a handful of stones into your face or...

It was so violent.

All around them, lives were lost.

Neil and the other marooned residents could only hope

someone would rescue them.

The emergency services didn't know how to react to this,

they'd never encountered anything like it before.

Like for the Fire Brigade, my father happened to be driving the fire engine,

but when he realised the headlights were shining underwater,

he realised that the fire engine was going to be inadequate.

Luckily, there was a large American military base only a few miles away.

The Americans at Sculthorpe, there were several squadrons based there

but amongst them, fortunately for Hunstanton,

was the 67th Air Rescue Squadron.

'I was in the barracks when the call came in for volunteers

'to go out to the disaster area.'

Reis Leming was a 22-year-old

attached to a search and rescue unit of the US Air Force.

'And when we got out to the scene,

'we launched our first A3 boat and found that,

'due to the terrific wind and the debris pulling around the area

'and so forth, we were having a lot of trouble in actually accomplishing

'any sort of mission at all.'

With complete disregard for his own safety,

Reis abandoned his cumbersome boat and waded out alone

into the ferocious, freezing waves.

Reis Leming donned an anti-exposure suit,

grabbed a rubber life raft, waded into the water.

He couldn't swim, and even if he could have done,

it wouldn't have been any good to him on that night, he'd have been blown away.

And single-handedly managed to rescue 27 people from the floodwaters.

I noticed that I was getting colder and colder and I found

actually I'd gone down too far, I shouldn't have gone that far.

You might say I was praying all the way down that I would make it.

Reis suddenly appeared pushing a dinghy, and that's how he got to us.

Neil and his family owe their lives to Reis.

We were the only complete family along the road that survived

and got out in one piece.

31 were killed by the storm in Hunstanton that night.

The community was left shattered, but it has never forgotten

the brave American who risked his life to save so many.

We can never thank them enough for what they did.

Later, the memory of Reis's heroic rescue is honoured

by Hunstanton, 60 years on.

Disasters can forge friendships across nations, but sometimes

it takes an emergency to appreciate your nearest and dearest.

27-year-old Mark Moore was the star player

for Gloucester football club Longlevens.

And on 21 August 2012,

he was playing in a grudge match against local rivals Southmead FC.

But, as Mark was celebrating a goal, he suddenly collapsed.

I knew something was up and all I can remember was going,

"Ref, Ref." And sort of...

Down and out. That is it.

That is all I can remember.

His friend Shayne Bradley saw Mark hit the deck.

Just the way he went down, with his arms by his side,

he just fell motionless.

Straightaway I thought this was something bad,

so I rang the ambulance immediately.

-'Ambulance service.'

-There's a player on the pitch, he's just collapsed.

It looks like he's possibly had a fit.

Team physio Tim Hall sprinted to Mark's side,

but couldn't find a pulse. Mark's heart had stopped.

I've never heard noises like it,

it was long, drawn-out breaths.

Almost a rattle.

I just sort of started CPR.

As I was looking down at Mark's face, I could just see his life ebbing away.

All I could really do was just... I held Mark's head in my hands.

Mark was close to death, but incredibly,

a team of off-duty paramedics were playing football on the next pitch.

We saw the physio doing CPR. At that point, we started running

because we thought, "We need to get there as soon as possible."

When we got there, it was obvious

he wasn't breathing and his heart had stopped.

So we went into paramedic mode and began to treat him

with the kit we had available.

But without a defibrillator,

the paramedics couldn't restart Mark's heart.

Shayne's call was to prove crucial.

A first responder arrived in minutes with one in their car.

Got the defibrillator, popped the paddles onto his chest

and then you charge it up and deliver the shock.

I could hear the paramedic saying,

"It's not working, it's not working."

It was as if he was rising four or five foot off the ground and back down.

The longer it went on, the more you felt he's gone.

It was on the ninth shock that Mark's heart started to beat again.

Mark was rushed to intensive care at the Bristol Royal Infirmary.

Seven days later, I was running on the treadmill, a week after it happened.

Ringing the emergency services to save a friend's life

is something you don't want to be doing too often in your life,

and hopefully I won't have to do it again like that.

Today, for the first time, Mark is listening to the call which saved his life.

'Ambulance Service, what's the address of the emergency?'

'Southmead Football Club.

'There's a player collapsed and possibly had a fit.'

-'Is he conscious?'

-'No, he's not 100% conscious, no.'

Reliving the event has brought home to Mark

just how much he owes his friends.

I couldn't believe how good, you know...they were.

It brought everyone together.

I couldn't ask for any better mates.

Mark also knows he's in debt to the paramedics who saved his life.

I really shouldn't even have the opportunity to say, you know,

what a brilliant job they'd done and sort of just say thanks.

-Hiya, Mark.

-Hi.

-All right?

-Yeah, brilliant.

Today is the first time everyone involved has met

since Mark collapsed.

All the guys said it was like a military operation.

They said they'd never seen anything like it before -

one minute playing football,

the next minute guys running backwards and forwards.

Normally, there's maybe three, possibly four of us,

at a cardiac arrest. And we had 12 running around you.

And it just went swimmingly, absolutely perfect.

Thanks for saving my life. I wouldn't be here if you guys weren't here.

-It was an absolute pleasure.

-Thanks a lot.

Mark not only managed to survive a near-fatal heart attack,

he came back to finish the football season with style.

I managed to play the last ten minutes of the game

for the league we won, and pick up the trophy.

Brilliant, what a season!

On January 31, 1953, a deadly storm assaulted

the east coast of Britain, taking the public by surprise.

NEWSREEL: 307 people killed. 32,000 made homeless.

And human misery that cannot be estimated.

Directly in the path of the storm, Hunstanton was battered

by ferocious waves and winds as the town was swamped by the icy sea.

The brave action of a 22-year-old American, Reis Leming,

rescued 27 locals from certain death,

including Neil Quincey and his young family.

You get flashbacks. Almost, after 60 years, on a daily basis.

It never goes away. You never forget it.

Reis spent five hours in the freezing deadly sea,

saving as many as he could

until he collapsed from exhaustion and hypothermia.

He received the George Medal for his bravery,

the first American to do so.

Reis was to be the guest of honour

as Hunstanton marked the 60th anniversary of the floods.

But a day before his 82nd birthday, he died at home in the US.

He was an amazing man and I feel

very proud that my husband did that.

I feel honoured that I married this wonderful man.

Reis's family have travelled thousands of miles to meet

the people of Hunstanton and discover how much he is still loved by the town.

It's pretty exciting to meet someone who... Reis saved his family.

-Cathy?

-Yes.

-I'm Neil.

-Neil, hello. So nice to meet you.

-Yes.

-My God!

-I'm ever so pleased to meet you.

-I'm so pleased to meet you.

-I'm so sorry Reis isn't here for you.

-Yes, I know.

That was most unfortunate, dreadful.

-Yes, well, so are you here with your family, your kids?

-Yes, that's right.

It was William, he was nine months old and I have two daughters,

Jane was three and Susan was seven.

-OK. So it was your wife and your three kids then?

-Yes, that's right.

To think that that man wouldn't have his family.

You know, and he has three children and six great-grandchildren.

It's just astounding that that's a group of people

that would not be alive if it wasn't for my husband.

So I'm very proud.

-You know, he has three children too.

-Yes, I do.

-I've never met any of them.

-Oh, now you will.

-Because Michael is his son, he's the youngest.

-Hello, Michael.

And Deborah is here, that's the oldest.

It's pretty amazing that both Mike and Deborah got to come.

-Yes, it certainly is.

-Reis would love to have met you.

60 years on, the Hunstanton community still remember

those who were lost.

The sadness is still felt.

These reunions bring people together,

but 60 years on, when you are reading out the names of the victims,

you see those faces in front of you

as if it was yesterday, and the loss is still there.

It's kind of been overwhelming.

I just thought long and hard about what was going through his mind

to walk into the water when everybody was fleeing.

I think it haunted him a bit.

I think he remembers some of those cries

and some of those people he didn't save.

He got very emotional about the whole thing.

He didn't realise how much they thought of him.

He got the George Medal and everything, and that was huge,

but to have these people remember him

and honour him the way they have has been tremendous.

He wanted to come really badly.

You know, it was something that he planned

and he really wanted to be here.

It means the world to Reis's family

to see that the people of Hunstanton still cherish his memory.

I'm just amazed, I'm amazed. I'm so proud of my husband.

And the honouring that he's getting, it's just...

It's just amazing.

So kind. Thank you.

On 5 October 1999, two trains crashed

with a combined speed of 120 miles an hour.

Just after eight this morning, two packed commuter trains

collided near Paddington Station in west London.

31 people were killed and more than 200 injured

in the worst rail disaster in the last 80 years.

The police officers Ian Pledger

and Mike McKee are still haunted by that day more than 13 years on.

I remember going back to Mick.

He found somebody and he was giving him CPR.

If you start CPR, you can't stop.

And he was obviously dead. And he found it very, very hard to stop.

I didn't want to leave him.

I remember thinking that he shouldn't be left on his own.

Someone should stay with him.

I didn't feel very good at that moment.

Devastated, Mike had to move on with Ian to help the injured.

Stranded in the chaos and clinging to life was Pam Warren.

Luckily, even though the fire had gone down my throat,

my vocal cords hadn't shut down then.

So I just remember going, "Help!"

Because that's all I could think of doing.

When Ian and Mike found her, they feared the worst.

Her face was black,

her hair was just a black blob on her head where it had melted.

She had the seat armrest melted to her clothing.

So I said, "I'm Ian."

She said, "I'm Pam." That's all she could really say.

Once Ian was there with that calm, humane "I want to help you" voice,

you felt, OK, great,

the authorities are coming, the police are there.

You know, everything will now get sorted.

Ian stayed with Pam until the ambulance teams managed to get through.

I must admit, I didn't think Pam was going to make it.

The fireball that engulfed carriage H had left Pam with serious burns.

Along with the most severe cases,

she was taken to Charing Cross Hospital.

We were the no-hopers, we were the ones...the next people to die.

Ian and Mike stayed at the scene for hours,

trying to help as many casualties as possible.

Tragically, 31 died in the crash.

Many more would have perished had it not been for commuters

helping each other to safety

and the bravery of the emergency services

who went beyond the call of duty.

The thing that I take away from it all is...

..how people are nice to each other. People are good.

People's humanity shone through.

I think it's in us all and it comes out at dramatic times like this.

Ian and Pam have remained in touch,

but Mike hasn't seen his former colleague for ten years.

He's a good bloke. He looked after me.

He looked after me at the rail crash as well.

We were all struggling and he was a bit of a rock.

Mickey. How are you, man? It's really nice to see you.

A long time. Long time, no see. This is Pam.

This is Mick...

The last time Mike spoke to Pam was track-side, more than 13 years ago.

I'm speechless.

I'm having to compose myself a little bit.

-A bit of a shock.

-It is.

When I saw you, you were...

-A shrivelled little old lady?

-You would not... You were in a bad way.

I've never ever come across anybody so badly burnt.

It's amazing, isn't it?

I shouldn't have survived, to be honest,

-but...for whatever reason, I fought back.

-You're a fighter.

The human spirit is a wonderful thing.

How she's come through, how she kept that human spark,

because I know it's a bad thing that happened,

but the human spark did conquer that day.

After more than three months in hospital

and over 20 skin graft operations,

Pam pulled through to lead a campaign for improved rail safety.

The safety requirements expected of the rail operators

should be as rigorous as those demanded of airline operators.

Pam became instantly recognisable as the face of the disaster.

An inquiry into the crash highlighted several failings

and it was discovered one train had gone through a red signal.

Network Rail was fined £4 million

for systemic and unacceptable safety failures.

Thames Trains was also fined £2 million

after admitting their responsibility.

Pam, Ian and Mike are joining Bill, Jeanette and Philip

at the crash site memorial

to pay respects to those who died on that terrible day.

The memory doesn't fade.

And when you come back to the site, the pain is still there.

Out of adversity, they always say triumph comes out.

And in things like this, I really do think that is true.

But we are all looking forward to the future, and yes,

it's also bought a sense of closure as well.

Next time, air crash survivors reunite

to share their incredible stories of cheating death.

And then you realise that...

whoa, I'm alive!

And the women of Doncaster who made footballing history

come together for the first time in over 40 years.

Seeing everybody together, it's not tears of sadness, it's tears of joy.