About knowing when a train is coming: One time right around Christmas when I was a lad, a guy in ski clothing picked me up hitchhiking because he wanted directions to the nearest police station (in a decade of hitching, it was the only ride I ever got from a skier from the city). He seemed calm and self possessed but physically was trembling like a leaf and even as the young idiot I was I could tell there was something very wrong and I went an extra distance through town with him until the directions to the cops was very clear. I later learned that a car containing seven of his friends had been hit by a train at a level crossing just before then and he was looking for the authorities to get news about them. He wanted to know what hospital they'd been taken to but in fact six were killed, cut to pieces, and just one survived with drastic injuries. The story from the single survivor was that their car windows were fogged up (too many people breathing inside) and the driver had the music on loud and the car got nailed even though there was a flashing signal at the crossing and the train was blowing its whistle and all. Respect the train.
For a quite a while after that, the train engineer would go nuts leaning on the whistle at that crossing, made people in the nearby town pretty angry but you could hardly blame him.