That's awful Susan, my deepest condolences to you and to the family and friends of those railroad people (I come from a family deep in railroaders back into the 19th century).

I was almost scratched from the big game one night in 1986, on my first job out of college one of my tasks was customs/immigration entry on barges, full of softwood lumber on rail cars, coming down from Vancouver Island and docking at Harbor Island in Seattle. This barge arrived around 2am, I went aboard with a customs officer and did the clearance paperwork. Tired, I started driving away, crossing the rail tracks once to get to the access road; but so tired, when I took a right and started across the tracks again, I heard a loud horn and screeching and saw the light directly to the right of my tiny little Corolla - the freight tender was pulling the rail cars off the barge and was just a few feet from my car as I crossed immediately in his path. No railroad crossing, no lights, no warning - this was Harbor Island, you're just supposed to be careful, and I wasn't. A few moments later I would have been dead, as luck had it I passed in front of the train with inches to spare. I guess that was my one warning in life, and I took it - I've never taken any RR crossing for granted again.