DISASTER on the West Jersey Line By: M Dattolo

Both trains were ready for the 6:00 P.M. departure to Philadelphia, as the ominous sky hinted at an impending thunderstorm. While the travelers began making their way back to the station for their return trip, they were met with the anticipated rains. Despite the declining weather, the storm didn’t dampen the spirits of the hundreds of passengers preparing to board. Weather reports for the Atlantic City area later recorded a steady rain after 3PM, followed by summer lightning strikes.

Chilled by their soaked garments, 

passengers shook off the rain water and settled into their seats. A last call for “All Aboard” went out, as the conductor from each section inspected and secured the windows against the downpour. The two conductors had 23 years of experience between them, but this was a night their experience had not prepared them for.

Locomotive No. 262, the first of the two sections, departed the station at New York and Atlantic Avenues with Engineer Daniel Cassidy and Conductor Elmer Mayhew in command. According to recorded accounts, No. 262 left the station at 6:00PM, while No. 627 followed soon after at 6:05PM. 

Departure orders were given by the station superintendent and later confirmed by Edward Aitken, engineer of the smaller of the two trains. Running slower across the Atlantic City meadows, Engineer Aitken estimated their lag distance at Pleasantville to be approximately eight to nine minutes, or two miles behind the lead consist. They continued on at a five minute distance, traveling at a clip of 25 miles per hour. Aitken cut off the steam to the engine with approximately a mile between the first and second train.

Outside, lightning bolts crackled and thunder clouds rumbled in the evening summer sky as the pelting rain ensued. A brief stop was scheduled seventeen miles away in Mays Landing to allow the down express from Camden to pass on the tracks. 

While the leaking rainwater started to form puddles inside the wooden cars, passengers chatted (and shivered), sharing stories of their days’ adventures as the train rattled along on the steel tracks. Father Quinn with St. Anne’s, following along in the second section was quoted to say, “Every person was very happy and delighted with the manner in which the day had been spent.”

On the approach to Mays Landing, the second train was still running at approximately 25 miles per hour with a five mile distance between sections. Engineer Aiken prepared for the wet rails by applying the air brakes a mile and a half prior to the stop. At the Mays Landing cut, with less than a mile to go, he foresaw a disaster quickly developing on the single track ahead of them. He could see the last car dead ahead on the bridge over the Great Egg Harbor River and surmised that it was waiting for the switch to be shifted. 

Twenty four passenger cars, two locomotives and two tenders had to merge onto 2600 feet of siding in anticipation of the down express coming from the opposite direction. As the second consist approached the trestle over the river, the engineer blew the whistle four times to warn of the impending impact.

With just seconds to spare, a desperate Aiken threw the engine in reverse. Though traveling at a speed of just 8 miles per hour, there still wouldn’t be sufficient time or space to avoid a rear end collision. In a final attempt to bring the train to a stop, Sam Flower the fireman, applied the hand brakes. At ten feet away, Engineer Aitken yelled “Jump for God’s sake, Sam!” Both he and Conductor Hoagland also leapt for their lives into the murky water below.

...To Be Continued...