I’ve never really been at risk of dying of any cause whatsoever so far in my life, I guess. But thirteen years ago today I came close
I would get the Piccadilly Line to work from Turnpile Lane. Most days I would see my old mate Graham on the platform of Finsbury Park station (two stops further on), who would get on the same train, further back. I would always take the first carriage by the second doors because that’s where the exit is at Russell Square tube station.
On this particular day thirteen years ago I was late getting up due to a gig I went to the night before in which far too many beers and tequilas were consumed. I walked up to the tube station and got on a train just when the entire Tube system was shut down - due to “a power failure”, they said.
My mate Graham had to get off the train he was on, with hundreds of other passengers,and walk through the tunnel back to Kings Cross after a bomb exploded in the carriage where I would normally be, just before it reached Russell Square.
My life was saved by rock’n’roll.