Station Panic

     Japan's train system is usually extremely punctual.  You can rely on the trains and subways to get you to where you need to go.  But on November 5th I was coming home with my sister from Rokko Island (about an hour drive from our house).  We stepped off the Rokko liner, hurried through the ticket gates, and around the corner.  Immediately I knew that something was wrong.  There were lines of people in the normally small peaceful station.  Japanese was blaring out of loud speakers.  People were talking, grumbling, and looking around anxiously.  Everyone seemed to have a cellphone, and was either talking to someone or texting them.  I looked on the sign which normally posts the times of the upcoming trains.  It was blank.
   "There must have been an accident."  I murmured to my sister.  Carried along for a moment by the confusion in the atmosphere, I could feel panic trying to grab a hold of me.  Then I thought of an alternate route to get home so I knew we'd be fine.  I worked my way up to the ticket gates where a train conductor was explaining the situation in Japanese.
   "Are there any trains?" I asked a lady next to me as we sought the attention of the train conductor.
   "I don't know." she replied. "I'm going to ask."
    Seeing that the train man was rather flooded with curious and anxious people seeking information, I backed out of the way to consult my sister about our plan of action.  A moment later the lady I had questioned returned saying,
   "There's a train on the track. You're going to Sanomiya, right?"
   "No," I responded, "I need to get to Amagasaki." (the opposite direction)
   "Oh, then you should ask the man," she gestured toward the train conductor.
    Thus encouraged, I made my way to the train man and asked if there were trains going to Amagasaki.  He replied that there was one sitting on the track.  I turned to tell my sister that we could still use this train line.   We quickly bought our tickets and hopped on the waiting train.  The loudspeakers were still blaring and I only caught some of what they said.  People were patiently sitting in the train or standing on the platform. I tried to read my book, but the atmosphere was too tense.  I tried to listen to what was being said through the speakers but I kept missing the announcements.  I wondered what had happened, and how long we would have to wait.  I was curious about how the staff handled the situation, so I sat in the train watching what went on around me.  Finally, after sitting in the train for about ten minutes with no sign that we would be leaving soon, I turned to a kindly looking Japanese lady sitting beside me.
   "What happened?" I asked, "Was it an accident?"  She nodded.
   "Where?" I wanted to know. She told me the name of the station.  We'd be passing it on the way to Amagasaki so my sister and I wondering if we'd see some smashed up train with ambulances hurrying people to the hospital.
   After perhaps twenty minutes the train finally got under way.  We passed town after town and the people packed in, relieved that there was at last a train.  When we arrived at the station where the accident had been, we saw nothing unusual, nothing noteworthy.  The weren't people hurrying about, nor a train flipped onto it's back, nor a dented platform.  The train pulled away and we wondered what kind of accident it was.
   At Amagasaki we changed trains and headed towards Sanda.  When we arrived we checked the bus schedule.  Seeing that it would be about a half an hour wait we wandered to McDonald's for lunch.
   There to our delight we met one of our friends who said she'd give us a ride home.  Thus we avoided the bus ride and the twenty minute trek in the rain.

   We arrived home from our adventure on the generally reliable train system a little wet, a little tired, and still curious about what happened.