When the Metro train pulled into the Silver Spring station late Monday afternoon, Michael Corcoran made a split-second decision that might have saved his life. Rather than hoof to the end car, which would conveniently deposit him beside an escalator at his destination, Union Station, he stepped into the third car and took a seat.
Corcoran, 39, just felt happy to be escaping his job as a federal contractor before 5 p.m. for a change. Even with the punishing two-hour-plus commute to Jarrettsville, he figured he'd get home early enough to play with his four kids, maybe even mow the grass.
He glanced at his BlackBerry once the Red Line train eased toward Washington. It was 4:56, plenty of time to catch the 5:20 MARC train to Aberdeen. A few minutes later, with the Metro train pausing, he put the phone back in its holster. That was when he felt a powerful jolt that caused the train to lurch forward.
"We just got hit," he recalls telling a woman across the aisle. The power went out, killing the lights and quieting the air-conditioning's hum. There was absolute silence.
Within minutes, Corcoran would come face to face with the reality of the worst train accident in the Washington Metro's history - the dripping blood, the agonized cries, fellow passengers in need of help.
But for those first few seconds, it struck him as merely a subway fender-bender: an accident that would delay his homecoming, but nothing remotely bad enough to kill nine people.
Here is his account of what happened after the impact:
Corcoran asked passengers around him if they were all right. Yes, everyone said. Some seats in that third car had come unlatched and tilted upward. Otherwise, nothing appeared amiss. So he thought it fine to mention how he'd skipped lunch and was looking forward to a burger at Union Station.
Do you want some crackers? asked the woman across the aisle. He did. Between bites he called his wife, Karen, in Harford County. The collision had not yet made the news. "I'm not going to make the 5:20," he said. "There's an accident." He didn't tell her it was serious because he didn't know.
But after they said goodbye, the train operator ran into the car from the front end, opening an emergency exit and checking on occupants as he made his way to the rear of the train. Then, passengers sitting in the three rear cars began to appear. One man limped. Someone shouted for help, asking for bandages or T-shirts to use to stop bleeding.
