As we sit at her table, Eléonore Dées de Sterio spreads out old newspaper clippings, photographs, and her father’s death notice.
They are relics from a day that shattered her family’s life: the morning of 11 October 2006, when her father, Alexandre Marius, a journalist and university professor, was killed in the devastating train accident at Zoufftgen, just beyond the Luxembourg border, while commuting to his teaching job in France.
Eléonore was nine, her sister only seven. The day of the accident, especially the morning after, remains etched in her memory. She recalls with painful clarity how her mother gathered the girls on the sofa before breaking the news.
Even before a word was spoken, Eléonore sensed the gravity of what had happened. Her mother faced the painful task of telling her daughters the truth about their father’s death, handling the moment directly and with dignity despite the immense emotional burden. That was the moment Eléonore realised that her "father was gone. He was gone".
The accident occurred when two trains collided head-on near the Luxembourg border, leading to six fatalities. For Eléonore’s family, it marked the beginning of an entirely new reality.
All three were "deeply traumatised", and daily life was never the same since then. Their mother made every effort to shield her daughters as much as possible from further harm.
Roughly a year or two after the tragedy, the family chose to leave Luxembourg for France, finding it too difficult to remain, not only because of painful memories, but also due to the way some people in their community behaved towards them following the accident.
Looking back, Eléonore is critical of the support provided by the Luxembourg National Railway Company (CFL) and other authorities after the accident.
She states that since 11 October 2006, her family has never received any direct communication from CFL: no letter of condolence and no invitation to early memorial ceremonies.
She also recalls serious shortcomings in the psychological support that should have been available. While announcements on television suggested help was being offered to families, none reached them directly.
Only after persistent efforts by a family friend, who contacted various authorities on their behalf, did they finally get in touch with the Ministry of Family Affairs, facilitated through the Grand Duke’s marshal.
It was not until five days after the accident that government adviser Mill Majerus visited their home, offering practical support and helping Eléonore’s mother with administrative matters.
He was, she says, the only official who truly assisted the family in those early days.
The family endured a lengthy legal process, with Eléonore’s mother working to protect her daughters from the ordeal.
Their lawyer remained by their side throughout, even as the proceedings stretched on for more than a decade. The conclusion of the trial brought some relief, but Eléonore says that they could "never be satisfied".
This twentieth anniversary marks a turning point for Eléonore. She explains that she now feels able to move beyond the sense of shame that once kept her silent.
In January, she took action by writing to Minister for Mobility Yuriko Backes, proposing a joint remembrance ceremony so that her family would not be excluded again.
Determined that their voices would be heard, she resolved to act if nothing was organised.
She acknowledges that CFL’s treatment of the families has noticeably improved this year, with the company honouring its commitments and respecting the relatives’ wishes.
During the ceremony, train traffic was even suspended to ensure a respectful atmosphere.
For Eléonore, taking part and speaking at the official ceremony was an important personal step. Her mother chose not to attend, as the family had already held a private commemoration beforehand.
Two decades after losing her father, his absence is still felt every day. For Eléonore, the pain remains as intense as it was in the beginning.
She sees grief as an expression of love, which the family has been living with day after day, for the past twenty years.
