I remember being nervous walking past the high school principal on the way in to see our school hockey team play. I had replaced most of the Coke in my pop bottle with rum, and I had taken a few big swigs with some friends before coming in. I was 16 and it was my first time sneaking alcohol into a school event. I was something of a late bloomer. After the game, it was a small town tradition for everyone to go to the MacDonald’s on the other side of Beford for a bite. And because our team had won the game, there was an excitement in the air – anything could happen.

My friend Matt, being a natural small risk-taker, told me he was going to walk the shortcut down the train tracks which ran right behind MacDonald’s. “C’mon man. You’ve never taken the tracks? We’ll get there way before anyone else.”

We walked past the streetlights to were it was dark — to the tracks. I found it difficult to walk on the railway ties and talk at the same time because I was a bit tipsy. Every few steps I would loose rhythm and my foot would slide between the ties and trip me up.

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