A team of specially-trained volunteers is taking to Fife trains to reach out to vulnerable people. Gayle Ritchie spends a night with the rail pastors
With their light blue hats and jackets, they are beacons of hope on the Fife rail network.
Typically, they go from carriage to carriage on trains, keeping their eyes peeled for those who are down on their luck.
While many of us spend Saturday nights tucked up at home in front of the telly, or out on the tiles, this is when the rail pastors get to work.
They alight at stations and wander round, sometimes simply sitting with people who are vulnerable or distressed.
Whether they’ve had too much to drink, run out of money to get home, got blisters from wearing high heels – or are in a much darker place – they’re offered kind words and a listening ear.
“Ultimately, we’re here to listen and care for people,” says Moss Barclay, coordinator of the Street Pastors’ Management Team.
“Rail pastors are basically the same as street pastors but with added training.
“We’re here to keep people safe, whether they’re feeling low, suffering mental health problems, or simply struggling to get home after a boozy night out.
“We hand out sweets, foil blankets, slippers and spikies (bottle stoppers which prevent people from having their drinks spiked).”
I meet Moss and his team of three rail pastors at Inverkeithing station on a Saturday night in January.
Shamefully, I’d rather be sat at home in front with a takeaway and a bottle of wine, so I’m full of admiration for these folk, who give up their valuable time to help others most weekends.
Before stepping onto a train bound for Edinburgh Waverley, the team inform British Transport Police of our intended route.
On board, we’re greeted by a carriage-load of drunken youths. They’re all in good spirits, as their football team Berwick Rangers have just beaten Cowdenbeath.
“What’s a rail pastor?” hoots one teenage lad as we stroll through the carriage. When we tell him, the crowd is full of cheers and thumbs-up and beg to be photographed.
“Every trip is different,” says Moss.
“But usually, people are warm and friendly. And they make an attempt to stop swearing when they see us!”
Getting off at Waverley, we chat to a few friendly faces. It’s early so there’s no sign of aggressive drunken behaviour or fighting just yet.
“It’s amazing what a lollipop can do diffuse a situation,” Brian Smith, a member of Dunfermline’s Liberty Church, tells me.
“Give a big hulk of a guy who’s being abusive a lollipop and the atmosphere quietens down.
“Just a few weeks ago, we handed them out to a group gearing up for a punch-up and they fell about laughing!”
Back on the train, heading north, we meet Jennifer Smith, 24, from Dunfermline. She’s taken off her heels and is walking barefoot until Moss hands her a pair of slippers.
There’s also Marie Joyce and Gillian Gibson, who are travelling to a party in Alloa.
They heap praise on the rail pastors’ initiative.
“It’s a great idea for people who are inebriated – we’ve all be there!” says Marie.
At Haymarket, while patrolling the area directly outside the station, we find Colin Todd, 31, wrapped in a sleeping bag on the ground.
He’s been homeless and living on the streets for four years.
“I had an alcohol problem for years but when I was made homeless, I knew I had a problem,” says the dad-of-two.
“I’d like to get a job volunteering but until then, it’s nice to have a wee chat with the pastors and feel that they support you.”
Picking up a broken bottle – “it could be used as a weapon” – Alan Kimmitt, minister at St Columba’s Church in Glenrothes, says while rail pastors are faith-based, they don’t preach.
“We’re showing God’s love in action on the street,” he tells me. “If people want to talk about spiritual things, that’s okay, but we don’t push our beliefs.”
Clearly, people from all walks of life benefit from the service. Just last week, the pastors encountered a distraught woman with two young children who’d missed her train home.
They found her a B&B, put her in a taxi and arranged her journey home the following morning.
“She was crying and said she’d never seen so much kindness,” says Moss.
As I prepare to leave, I cut my finger on (bizarrely) a sharp pen, and blood gushes forth. I’m very grateful when Brian produces a plaster.
Simple caring acts like this sum up the work of the rail pastors. You never know when you might need them.
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The rail pastor initiative, funded by the Ascension Trust (Scotland), works alongside Police Scotland to offer reassurance to those in need.
Street pastors – volunteers from various church congregations – first took to the streets of Dunfermline in 2008, offering a sympathetic ear to revellers that may have become lost, detached from groups of friends, or require assistance to get home.
While similar groups have since taken to the streets of other Fife towns, the Fife rail pastor scheme is the first of its kind in Scotland, having taken inspiration from a pilot project in London.
Now, 18 rail pastors on a rota basis patrol the Fife Circle to Waverley and are drawn from four street pastor initiatives in Fife – Levenmouth, Kirkcaldy, Cowdenbeath and Dunfermline.
They are keen to pay tribute to Network Rail for allowing them to set up and ScotRail, who allow them to travel on the network.
More pastors are being sought to give up their evenings, don the blue uniform and help spread hope. www.streetpastors.org
