TfL Still Hasn’t Apologised To Sarah De Lagarde – But That’s Not Stopping Her

By Charlotte Metcalf

1 month ago

22 people a month die or suffer life-altering injuries from accidents on the Tube


When Sarah de Lagarde fell on the Tube tracks, her life was altered unutterably. She’s determined to use her experience as a force for good, says Charlotte Metcalf.

Interview: Sarah de Lagarde

Sarah de Lagarde’s prosthetic leg makes her instantly recognisable as she arrives at Scarfes Bar. Many of us read her story so, recapping briefly, in September 2022 Sarah lost her footing and fell into the gap between the train and the platform at High Barnet Tube station. The train left, severing her right arm. A second train arrived, crushing her right leg. Despite shouting for help, no one heard or saw her lying bleeding on the tracks.

A month before the accident, she climbed Kilimanjaro with her husband. ‘I grew up in a very rural area of the Pyrenees so I’m truly at home in the mountains,’ says Sarah. ‘During Covid, we went on huge walks every Sunday and I’ve always loved the outdoors, so we went for it. It’s seven days up and the last day you leave base camp at midnight to reach the top seven hours later at sunrise, so you still have seven hours to come down before it gets dark again. It was -20C and my husband had hypothermia and altitude sickness, but we both made it. It was staggeringly beautiful as the sun rose. The experience exceeded all our expectations. We felt invincible, at the zenith of everything. A month later, I was under that train.’

To the paramedic at the scene, Sarah said: ‘I hate to rush you but I might be dying’

If Sarah had panicked, she’d probably have bled to death: ‘On Kilimanjaro the guides taught us how to slow our breathing right down so we didn’t expend unnecessary energy. Also, my job involves managing crises so I’m always expected to be the calmest person in the room, finding solutions.’

With a broken nose, smashed teeth and two severed limbs, Sarah stayed calm. ‘When the doctor finally arrived, I remember saying, in a very British way, “I hate to rush you but I might be dying.” Then my chest turned to ice and I thought I’d gone. I’ll never forget the paramedic, Kevin Cuddon, holding my hand and coming with me on the gurney under the entire length of the train to where they could lift me off the tracks.’ 

After 15 hours of operations, she was told her limbs were ‘no longer viable’. After amputation and intensive rehabilitation, she was home in time for Christmas, months earlier than expected. More astonishing is that less than a year later she climbed Kilimanjaro again. ‘My mother had put a picture she’d painted of Kilimanjaro up in my room at the rehab centre,’ she says. ‘I couldn’t even go to the loo, but that image became my fictitious goal to get me up and doing the agonising necessary physio.’  

On 16 August this year, Sarah made it to the top with Cat and Kat, medical staff from her trauma physio unit. Her 13-year-old daughter reached the crater just an hour away below, while her husband and ten-year-old daughter stayed at base camp. ‘My husband said it would boost my confidence to do it alone. I was blistered, bruised and in agonising pain, and kept wondering why I wasn’t just chilling on a beach. But when you’re very small in a gigantic landscape your problems feel so insignificant.’

‘22 people a month die or suffer life-altering injuries from accidents on the Tube’

Today, she appears so competent that she has to remind me she can’t cook, let alone do up a bra, tie her shoelaces or put earrings in. Her prosthetic leg hurts and she has phantom limb pain. She is entirely dependent on others, while being alone in a dark room still transports her straight back to being abandoned on those tracks as the second train thundered towards her.  

Yet Transport for London has not apologised, let alone compensated her. She could only afford her ‘bionic’ arm via her husband’s crowdfunding campaign that raised £300,000. We laugh as, powered partly by artificial intelligence (AI), the hand seems to buzz and make a fist whenever she mentions TfL.  

‘CCTV can’t replace staff cuts at stations when no one is monitoring it,’ she says. ‘Did you know 22 people a month die or suffer life-altering injuries from accidents on the Tube? But I survived a unique event, I have a voice and I am determined to use it. The sacrifice of my limbs must be used to teach valuable lessons and inspire innovation. There are relatively cheap solutions that could make our stations safer straight away, like AI-assisted CCTV, which would have picked up a body on the track immediately – especially as I was wearing my new, bright-pink coat. It’s too late for me, but I owe it to my girls to make travelling around London as safe as possible. It’s my civic duty to call out when public services, which we’re encouraged to rely on, have forgotten to serve the public.’ Making TfL safer, she believes, is her next big goal, dwarfing scaling Kilimanjaro.

Sarah credits her loving family for much of her recovery. ‘My husband’s Christmas present to me was a tattoo shop voucher. I was surprised, but it was for him, though he hates needles. In solidarity, he tattooed a line across his arm and leg where mine were amputated.’ It’s an emotional note to end on. Besides, at this point, I’m welling up, simply dumbfounded by Sarah’s courage and determination.

Sarah is writing a memoir. For more information, visit grahammawchristie.com or sarahdelagarde.com