[Note: This is a news column that appeared in a Bath newspaper in January, 1963]
BY DONALD GOOD
In this era of transportation when railroad companies are merging to stay in existence, and when some lines are consolidating trains, eliminating others, and abandoning certain lines across the country, a look into history reveals many a true saga of the mighty iron horse, whether wood or coal burner.
SUCH AN incident occurred within six miles of Bath on tracks of the Erie Railroad, about one mile east of Avoca, on January 16, 1888, exactly 75 years ago Wednesday.
This particular incident was a tragic one because it was a train wreck in which a life was lost, but it is vividly described in historical copies of newspapers of that day.
A trip to the site of the wreck today results in absolutely no evidence of any such event occurring, naturally, but one can visualize the accident which was described so vividly in the press.
The school children of today are limited in number who can say they have seen a steam powered locomotive, other than in a railroad museum. To them, the sight of the huge diesel engine pulling a long freight or a passenger train is the only contact they have ever had with the railroad.
THE YEAR 1888 also is remembered as the time of the famous "Blizzard of '88," which raised havoc across a big portion of the country in January of that year. On January 16, 1888, train 107 which passed through Bath, headed for Avoca, at 8:10 a.m., and train 18, heading toward Bath where it was due at 8:32 a.m., met in a blinding snow storm on a curve, about one mile from Avoca.
The appearance of the wreck to those who approached it through the swirling snow was one which made a long-lasting impression of the mind. According to the reports which were published in the newspaper on the accident, the locomotives hit with such force that they towered into the air, giving the appearance of a church steeple.
They stood straight up, with the pilots, headlights, smokestacks, and steam chest thrown to either side. The drivers on the wheels were locked together, and the two locomotives, or what was left of them, were embracing each other grotesquely in the wintry sky.
Train 18's engineer, Frank Maynard, was killed in the crash. His body was found wedged in the cab, with his hand gripping the air brake handle, indicating he saw the impending crash and tried to prevent it.
Other crew members of train 18 identified in the news story by name only were: A. H. Kitchen, conductor; Frank Marsh, fireman; Cyrus Bailey, baggageman.
Ironically, Frank Marsh, the fireman of Train 18, was the son of Frank Marsh, engineer of Train 107. Both escaped the wreck by jumping from the engines at the last minute, as did the rest of the crew.
Other members of Train 107's crew were: John McMahon, conductor; the fireman , identified only as Earnest; Gus Wright, baggageman; and George Hall, expressman.
News accounts of the wreck identify Train 107 as a "way train" which carried mail. It is assumed that Train 18 was a freight, although the news account of the wreck does not identify this to be a fact. There were no reports of injuries to any train passengers.
THE CABS of the two locomotives were torn to shreds by the collision, and the tender of the locomotive on Train 107 was telescoped into the postal car about four feet, ripping it "into many splinters" reports said. The tender of the locomotive on the other train went crashing into the baggage car with such force it lifted the front of the car off the wheels and set it along-side the rails.
It required about one half a day to clear the tracks of the wreckage, which railroad officials at that time said caused damages of about $25,000.
WHAT CAUSED the accident? According to the newspapers, a human error on the part of a dispatcher was officially listed as the cause of the accident. When he learned the consequences of his error, it is reported that the dispatcher had a nervous collapse.
What with the merger of the Erie-Lackawanna lines and subsequent elimination of traffic over the Lackawanna lines through the Conhocton Valley, the Erie tracks still remain, but traffic is light. There is no chance of a head-on train wreck anywhere on the Avoca line, due to the number of trains.
Just as the saga of Casey Jones, for which a famous song was written, and the legendary stories of similar accidents in the long history of railroading in America, are in the history books of this great country, so is this incident. . . the wreck of 107 and 18 on the Erie tracks near Avoca. . . recorded in history.
IT HAPPENED 75 years ago Wednesday, just a short drive up the road toward Avoca. If you went to the spot, you wouldn't see a thing, but you could stand there and visualize two locomotives locked in a virtual "embrace of death," their "cowcatchers pointed skyward, and giving the appearance of a church steeple."