A tragic account from 101 years ago

Writer's Note: This story combines fact and fiction. There really was a train accident on July 31, 1909, two miles northwest of Coeur d'Alene, and the motorman of train No. 20 really was James Delaney. Sixteen people were killed — 12 on site and four died later at the hospital — and more than 100 others were injured. Those are facts, but the dialogue and other named characters are fiction.

It was 101 degrees in Spokane. A lone eagle soared above in the cloudless blue sky. The sun beat down on Daniel Spoon as he stepped out of the cafe. He walked along the street toward the train station, scuffing his shoes with every step.

"One ticket for Coeur d'Alene," Daniel said, slapping four bits down on the counter. The ticket man took the money and handed a ticket through the window. "Train leaves in 20 minutes," he said curtly. Daniel walked over to a nearby tree to stand in the shade. He removed his overcoat and loosened his tie. Another man with glasses trudged over and stood next to him in the shade.

"Jesus, it's hot," said the other man. "July 31, 1909 will be forever remembered as the hottest day in the history of the world."

"Maybe, but I doubt it. But you're right about it being hot all right," Daniel replied, scratching his stubble beard.

For the next few minutes the two men stood side-by-side under the tree, observing the town around them and wishing it was a cooler day.

"All passengers please board, the Coeur d'Alene-bound train will leave in two minutes," yelled a man standing on the platform next to the train.

"Poor sucker," said the man with glasses. "Stands out there on that platform all day yelling and sweating like a stuck pig for a few bucks. My name is John, by the way."

"I'm Dan. See you around." The two men shook hands and Dan sprinted toward the train, which was about to depart.

"Be careful, friend. Something bad is bound to happen on a day as hot as this!" called John.

On the train ride, Dan rolled up his shirt sleeves and looked at his watch. It was 4:10 in the afternoon. He leaned against the side railing and lit a cigarette, thinking about the man he had met and the shrewd warning he had been given. He was on a scheduled train bound for Coeur d'Alene, Idaho, to register for a homestead. What could possibly happen?

• • •

James Delaney stared at the track in front of him in boredom. Here he was, the motorman of the No. 20 Coeur d'Alene-bound train at 4:28 in the afternoon and almost at his destination. What could be more boring, he thought, than sitting in a big choo-choo day after day after day? He was so bored that it took him five minutes to notice another train coming in the opposite direction, only 800 feet away.

As he noticed it, Delaney bolted into action, setting the brakes and honking his horn. The train got gradually slower and came to a halt 200 feet from where it had started its descent in speed. The other train had put its brakes on, but it didn't seem to be slowing down.

Delaney went deadly white. The other train wasn't going to stop. Delaney ran to the end of the engine and stuck his head out and screamed, "Get off this damn thing as fast as you can! We're going to get rammed!" Then he jumped off the train, landing in the tall grass and gravel beside the track.

Dan had no idea what had happened. Literally, one minute he had been sitting on the side rail at the back of the train. The next, a bunch of fuzzy yelling and he got catapulted off. He sat up, but too quickly and he got a splitting headache. He looked around and saw several other men and women who had been hurled out of the train as well. He tried to get up, but he became dizzy and he toppled over. Everything went dark.

When Dan opened his eyes the sky was gray. It was starting to sprinkle. Buzzards circled overhead. He turned his head to the right and saw it. The two crushed engines, bodies lying everywhere. He couldn't tell if they were dead or alive. Many of them had a doctor or a nurse with them. Some were propped up against train cars and boulders. He tried to get up again. This time he did not fall back over. Men with axes and wrecking bars were digging through the wreckage, probably attempting to rescue the trapped.

Dan began to walk around the wreck. There was destroyed metal and wood everywhere. He saw a large crowd of people on the other side of a hunk of metal. There was a place that he might be able to squeeze through. He got on his stomach and began to crawl through the space. About halfway through, his hand rested on something wet and hairy. He looked down at it. It was a man's head. It was completely torn off of the body and covered in blood. He pulled his hand back so violently that it hit a jagged piece of metal that cut a gash in it. Daniel crawled backwards all the way out of the metal hunk and fled in terror and disgust, retching the whole way.

Daniel ran until he came to a clump of pine and cedar. The wreck wasn't even in sight. There was a small stream there. He cleaned his cut and guzzled cold water. Then he sat down at the base of the huge cedar and thought of the last words John had said to him. How could he have known?

Grant Mason is a Coeur d'Alene Charter Academy student who is polishing his writing skills at The Press this summer. Grant is 13 years old.