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Ghost trains of the Union Pacific


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#1 Sstevens7803

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Posted 24 November 2011 - 10:19 PM

I don't believe this is an actual ghost train sighting but my five year old nephew is excited and wanted to "tell someone on the internet."

Just some background: my nephew loves trains and is "creeped out" by ghosts despite my telling him "ghosts don't real" because I don't want him to be scared of non-paranormal, natural events. Our family is open to the possibility of ghosts but highly skeptical.

One of his questions to me recently was "can trains have ghosts?" I explained to him what ghosts are believed to be so trains shouldn't be ghosts but I was reminded of stories I had heard from my childhoold about headless brakemen and people hearing and seeing ghostly trains.

Tonight we were returning home from my cousin's home after a big thanksgiving dinner. Nana, my mom, saw trains in the switching yard and turned down a side road so my nephew could get a better look.

As we drove by we saw four engines followed by a countless number of cars behind it. We also saw a switchman and waved at him. This side road is a very short dead end. We followed the road to the end trying to count how many cars the engines were pulling, and turned back at which point we heard the whistle of an engine, and my nephew exclaimed "They're gone! The engines are gone!" He was right. The trip to the end of the side road and back to where the engines were took no more than 30 seconds.

The switchman was gone too. We pulled up to where the engines had been no more than 30 seconds before and saw nothing. We had a view of the tracks ahead of and behind that point and nothing. The cars were still there but the engines had vanished along with the switchman.

I'm sure there's a logical explanation for this but my nephew is convinced he saw a ghost train. He's very happy and excited at this moment and eager to share his story with the world.

Thanks for reading and if you know of any good ghost train/engineer stories and videos there's a sweet little five year old boy who would love to hear and see them.

#2 loganinkosovo

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Posted 22 December 2011 - 03:58 PM

http://www.creepync....-bostian-bridge


http://www.unsolved-...host_train.html
The only difference between Socialism and National Socialism is the snappy uniforms. - Logan "Aside from ending Slavery, Fascism and Communist World Domination, War has never solved anything!""For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute! But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot." - Rudyard Kipling"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."---George Orwell"Always Remember-All Lessons in Life are Expensive.....and the last one costs you everything you have." - Logan"Socialism is just Communism without a Dictator....and you can always find a Dictator!" - Logan"An Armed Man is a Citizen. An Unarmed Man is a Subject. Subject to anything anyone wants to do to him." - Logan

#3 Sstevens7803

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Posted 23 December 2011 - 01:15 PM

http://www.creepync....-bostian-bridge


http://www.unsolved-...host_train.html



Thank you very much for those links!

I think my nephew will especially like the one about Lincoln's funeral train. I vaguely recalled that one from my childhood but didn't share with him because I wasn't sure of the details.

Thanks again!

#4 loganinkosovo

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Posted 23 December 2011 - 02:30 PM

http://www.creepync....-bostian-bridge


http://www.unsolved-...host_train.html



Thank you very much for those links!

I think my nephew will especially like the one about Lincoln's funeral train. I vaguely recalled that one from my childhood but didn't share with him because I wasn't sure of the details.

Thanks again!



You are most welcome.

When I have a few minutes this afternoon I will see if I can find some more for you.
The only difference between Socialism and National Socialism is the snappy uniforms. - Logan "Aside from ending Slavery, Fascism and Communist World Domination, War has never solved anything!""For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute! But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot." - Rudyard Kipling"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."---George Orwell"Always Remember-All Lessons in Life are Expensive.....and the last one costs you everything you have." - Logan"Socialism is just Communism without a Dictator....and you can always find a Dictator!" - Logan"An Armed Man is a Citizen. An Unarmed Man is a Subject. Subject to anything anyone wants to do to him." - Logan

#5 loganinkosovo

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Posted 23 December 2011 - 03:47 PM

http://www.virtualsk...host_train.html


http://americanfolkl...host_train.html


http://itunes.apple....d460077581?mt=8


http://nevadanorthernrailway.net/
The only difference between Socialism and National Socialism is the snappy uniforms. - Logan "Aside from ending Slavery, Fascism and Communist World Domination, War has never solved anything!""For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute! But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot." - Rudyard Kipling"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."---George Orwell"Always Remember-All Lessons in Life are Expensive.....and the last one costs you everything you have." - Logan"Socialism is just Communism without a Dictator....and you can always find a Dictator!" - Logan"An Armed Man is a Citizen. An Unarmed Man is a Subject. Subject to anything anyone wants to do to him." - Logan

#6 Seaflora

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Posted 30 December 2011 - 05:16 PM

There's some interesting reads here.

#7 axlfoley

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Posted 01 January 2012 - 07:06 PM

To the OP maybe it was a timeslip?

Whatever


#8 loganinkosovo

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Posted 03 January 2012 - 12:23 AM

Thanks Guys.....




http://mysterious-hi...host-train.html


http://www.legendsof...lychildren.html


http://www.legendsof...rshallpass.html


http://www.legendsof...ntomengine.html


http://welcome-to-po...ver_the_poltava
The only difference between Socialism and National Socialism is the snappy uniforms. - Logan "Aside from ending Slavery, Fascism and Communist World Domination, War has never solved anything!""For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute! But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot." - Rudyard Kipling"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."---George Orwell"Always Remember-All Lessons in Life are Expensive.....and the last one costs you everything you have." - Logan"Socialism is just Communism without a Dictator....and you can always find a Dictator!" - Logan"An Armed Man is a Citizen. An Unarmed Man is a Subject. Subject to anything anyone wants to do to him." - Logan

#9 loganinkosovo

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Posted 05 January 2012 - 02:55 AM

http://www.hauntedho...el_Brakeman.htm


http://fresnofamous....ored-be-haunted
The only difference between Socialism and National Socialism is the snappy uniforms. - Logan "Aside from ending Slavery, Fascism and Communist World Domination, War has never solved anything!""For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute! But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot." - Rudyard Kipling"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."---George Orwell"Always Remember-All Lessons in Life are Expensive.....and the last one costs you everything you have." - Logan"Socialism is just Communism without a Dictator....and you can always find a Dictator!" - Logan"An Armed Man is a Citizen. An Unarmed Man is a Subject. Subject to anything anyone wants to do to him." - Logan

#10 Seaflora

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Posted 05 January 2012 - 03:35 AM

Next time I come on here, I'll read the latest stories you've posted the links to.

#11 loganinkosovo

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Posted 13 January 2012 - 11:25 PM

I pulled these from the old (now defunct) Winter Steel site many many many moons ago.....

I think they are now in book form.

http://www.texasesca...es-L-Choron.htm


Emergency Stop

by

James L. Choron


The “Siberiak” was late, and trying to make up time. The spring of 1998 had
been a wet one, and in many places, the train had been slowed to a near crawl by
water on the tracks. The “Siberiak” didn’t have another scheduled stop for
another hundred kilometers, so the engineer was pushing the big electric engine
and her 21 cars to the maximum possible speed, given the conditions, about 75
miles per hour. It was snowing, nothing new in Western Siberia in March, but not
enough to present a problem.

Just behind the engine, in the first wagon, Nina Konstantinovna, the train’s
Chief Stewardess, relaxed in her tiny stateroom over a cup of tea. It was almost
midnight, and she would soon start her final inspection round of the day, seeing
that the car was in good order for the night before dimming the lights in the
corridor. She looked out her window at the passing countryside as she
contemplated what had been, up until this point, a rather uneventful day.
Outside, the outskirts of the village of Gromiko came into view. No stop here,
she thought to herself, The place was so small that it only had scheduled stops
by the regional “local train”. Main Line Passenger Service and mail pick ups
were all handled through Barabinsk, which was still over an hour away.

Suddenly, the red warning light in her cabin began to flash, just as the train
began to shudder and weave violently. The air brakes on the engine screamed as
the sound of the big engines electric motor died to a whisper, covered
completely by the scream of the brakes being applied for a full emergency stop.
Sparks showered from the rails as the cars clanged together like twenty-one
thunderclaps in the dark, still Siberian night.

Nina jumped up, steadied herself, and headed for the engine to find out what was
wrong. Regardless of what it was, she and the stewards and stewardesses under
her “command” would now have their work cut out for them. As she started out of
her compartment, she glanced quickly down the hall behind her. No smoke, so
there wasn’t a fire, at least not in this car. No unusual smell of any kind, At
least in Wagon Number One, everything looked more or less normal.

All along the eighty foot length of the car, people were emerging from their
compartments, many were stunned, dazed and looking excitedly toward the still
sealed outer doors at each end of the wagon. Others were huddled into small
groups and talking among themselves. One man was shouting as he worked his way
toward the end of the car.

Nina stepped quickly through the companionway and into the engine. Chief
Engineer Anatoli Podkrishkin and his two assistants were literally shaking,
white with fear, “We hit her.” Podkrishkin said in a shaky voice. “It couldn’t
be helped, we hit her”.

“Who,” Nina Konstantinovna asked. This certainly didn’t look good, she thought
to herself.

“The woman,” Podkrishkin replied, in a distant voice. “She jumped out on the
tracks and started waving her arms, trying to get us to stop, She was too
close,” His voice faded.

Just as he finished speaking, Sargent Oleg Kashin, head of the Siberiak’s Police
Squad came through the door. “What’s wrong,” he asked in a solemn voice that
belied his 24 years. “What happened?”

“You’ll have to go out and investigate,” Podkrishkin said glumly. “We hit a
woman who ran out onto the tracks”.

“Oh my God,” Kashin replied. He pushed the button on the intercom attached to
the wall of the cab and summoned his partner, Ivan Kolchak from the rearmost
wagon on the train.

The two policemen donned their coats and hats and swung down onto the right of
way. They then seperated, and began walking the track on either side of the
roadbed. From the cab of the engine, Nina Konstantinovna, and the rest three men
of the engine crew watched their flashlights dance in the night as the two men
searched the darkness. Less than ten minutes later, Kashin and Kolchak were
back. The short blond Sargent had a bundle in his arms, “We didn’t find a
woman, but we found this,” He held out the bundle and revealed, an infant, maybe
a year old, wrapped in a white blanket. “She was lying on the tracks about 200
meters up the track from the engine”.

In half an hour’s time, the Siberiak was once again plunging into the night,
headed for Novosibersk. In Barabinsk, a report was made concerning the incident,
and the child was turned over to the local authorities,

About a month later, Nina Konstantinovna, who was then on her “break” received a
telephone call. It was Oleg Kashin. “Nina Konstantinovana,” he began, “You are
not going to believe this,”

“What is it,” she asked.

“Well, you remember that incident on the Moscow Run last month, We have some
information on it now”.

“So, tell me, “ she said. “Don’t keep me in suspense”.

“It’s this way,” the young man continued. “Barabinsk Militia turned the child
over to a Children’s Home.”

In the course of the next three or four minutes, Oleg Kashin told one of the
strangest stories that Nina Konstantinovna had ever heard. It seems that the
child’s natural mother had died giving birth. The father, faced with the
prospects of raising a small child alone, had remarried almost at once, to a
woman much younger than himself. His new wife soon became quite upset over the
amount of attention that her husband was paying to the child, and and apparently
lost her mind. She decided, in her husband’s absence, to do the baby in. While
the child slept, she took it, and laid it on the railroad tracks, then she
packed her things and left. She was later arrested in a Barabinsk. When the
husband claimed his child from the Militia, he was questioned as to who the
woman could possibly be who had stopped the train, and then vanished into the
night. To everyone’s amazement, the description of the woman matched exactly
with that of the man’s first wife, the baby’s mother, who had been dead for just
over a year.




A Tombstone Every Mile

by

James L. Choron


It was winter, the electric trains that usually pull the weight of
Russia's commerce were off line because of unusually heavy snows Not so,
"Old Number Ten". She and her sisters, products of the last century and
maintained in to this one, for just such emergencies "soldiered on" The
big, black and red steam powered 6-8-6 combine puffed and rombled it's way
through the Urals, shoving the snow aside as it climbed ever higher into
the mountains, until it reached the dividing line between Europe and Asia
Slashing it's way through the snow, and temperatures that approached 50,
the big train and it's tender, manned by two engineers, four hard working
firemen and two brakemen, trailed a column of twenty-one cars along with a
plume of oily black smoke, laced with red and amber sparks. Unlike the
nearly silent electric trains, Old Number Ten rattled and clacked along,
the ceasless throb of it's driver rods and the mournful wail of it's
whistle announcing it's presence to the world as it passed through the
tiny, sleeping villages that dotted the "Iron Highway to the East".

Sitting in a passenger car, inside the cozy warmth of a private
compartment, drinking the excellent Russian "Champaigne" and eating
caviar on tiny salted crackers, it is easy to imagine yourself in a time
long ago especially as you look out the window, and watch the silent birch
forrest pass a pack of wolves running along chasing the shadow of the
engine that the full moon casts on the brilliant white blanket of snow.
There is something about the steam trains something that can't be defined.
There is luxury here a special kind of luxury that the world, as we know
it, has generally lost. Most business travlers fly when they have to cross
Russia but the only real way to travel is by rail and the best way is in
the winter, behind Old Number Ten or one of her sisters It takes a while,
but it's worth it. Every six hours or so, the big engine slows as it
glides into some tiny, forgotten station to take on water for the boiler
Once a day, she stops to take on coal Old Number Ten has a healthy
appetite.

At two in the morning, on the second day into their ten-day odyssey,
Number Ten rolled into a tiny station. The sign on the platform said
"Uriatin", and it was much like the last dozen stations the train had
stopped at on the trip there wasn't another major stop a city of any size,
until Ekatrinburg This tiny station in the Urals was nothing more than a
water stop and Vlad Samsonov, the Chief Engineer, was not looking forward
to getting out of his warm cab and fighting with the, undoubtedly frozen,
water chute on the trackside tower. He had already armed himself and his
companions with prize bars and shovels with which to assault the ever
present sheet of ice that barred the door to the cab.

Samsonov was a special breed of man far past retirement age, he was an
expert in the operation of steam locomotives. He came out of retirement
every winter to operate Old Number Ten, just as several of his companions
came back to operate the other six steam engines that the Government kept
on stand-by for particularly foul weather. He generally expected to make
about six runs each winter training new men in the "care and feeding" of
the steam engine as they pushed on, across the vastness or Mother Russia.

Samsonov nodded, and Alexander Shaposhnikov, the Senior Brakeman applied
the steam the big engine slowed, and came to a stop right on target just
like always right in front of the water tower. Samsonov moved toward the
door, grimacing as he looked out the window and noticed that the ice
buildup was even worse than usual "it must be really cold out there", he
thought.

Unexpectedly, before Samsonov could open the cab door, troop of local
workers tramped out from the decrepit little stationhouse and began to
de-ice the engine, inspect the trucks under the cars, and hoist the water
chute into position Up in the engine, Samsonov and his companions watched
in amazement. This kind of thing just didn't happen not any more not for
as long as Samsonov could remember.

The workers moved with speed and determination as they saw to the needs of
the big engine Samsonov counted at least fifteen of them, it was funny,
he thought, none of them seemed to be really dressed for the kind of
weather they were currently experiencing they looked warm enough but they
were not really dressed in winter clothing They seemed to be bundled in
several layers of much lighter apparel piled on, in absence of real winter
clothing to fight the bitter cold. Not one of them was wearing a proper
"shapka" fur hat

In the orange glow seeping from the stationhouse window, Samsonov could
see several uniformed figures, carrying rifles. That was odd. "No, not
really", he thought. "It s cold tonight. The local Militia Company has
come into the station to keep warm It's not like there's likely to be any
serious crime on a night like this"

Two minutes from the time they stopped, the train was completely de-iced,
the boiler filled with water, and the trucks oiled. In the dim glare of
the stationhouse lights, the foreman of the work gang approached the cab
window, took off his tattered cloth cap, grabbed his forelock, and bowed
solemnly. "Comedian" Samsonov thought He smiled grimly, and mimiced the
motion as Shapishnikov released the brakes. The big engine started to
slowly move forward lurching a bit at first, but soon gliding out in a
smooth liquid motion as the six-foot tall drive wheels gained purchase on
the rails.

Early the next morning, Old Number Ten pulled into Ekatrinburg It was a
one hour stop, since the train had to take on coal and pick up the surface
mail. Samsonov reported, as usual, to Nikolai Stalnov, the Station
Master, and made his report. In passing, he mentioned the excellent
service that his engine had received in Uriatin.

"Uriatin?" the Stalnov asked. "Are you sure?'

"Absolutely," Samsonov replied. "I can't remember ever having the engine
serviced there before, but I've never seen such an efficient yard crew".
He laughed, and then commented on the "salute" that the crew foreman had
given him as he pulled out of the station "Comedian" he repeated, this
time, out loud.

"Vlad" The Stationmaster had a somber, thoughtful look on his face He
hesitated briefly as he spoke. "There's no yard crew at Uriatin. There's
NOTHING in Uriatin just a water tower. That place has been deserted for
over a hundred years. The last time there was an active station there was
back when they were building this damned section of track"

"What?"

"You heard me Uriatin was a Labor Camp The Tsar sent people there to get
rid of them quickly and to build that bridge over the Ocha that you
crossed just after you left the station".

"But who de-iced and serviced my engine?"

"That, I can't tell you Maybe you were dreaming Maybe you and your
friends were a little drunk I can't blame you, you know. A little vodka
does keep the cold out I even do it myself sometimes.".

"Nikki are you accusing me of being drunk on the job?"

"No, Vlad nothing like that but are you sure that you want me to put this
in your report? I mean"

"I'm telling you what happened. If you don't believe me, ask Shaposhnikov
and the others"

"And what I am telling you is this there is nothing in Uriatin. Absolutely
nothing, except the broken-down remains of the old Prison Barracks, a
water tower, and the graveyard where they buried those poor buggars that
built the bridge they died like flies, you know The Tsar sent them here
with nothing. Most of them froze to death or died of starvation. Now, are
you sure that you want me to include this in your report?"

Samsonov shook his head and kept silent What could he say, really?

It runs from the Baltic to the Pacific, but the main Stations are Moscow,
Kazan, Ekatrinburg (formerly Sverdlovsk), Omsk, Novosibers, Tomsk,
Yakutsk, and Vladivostock It spans six thousand miles worth of two
continents, crosses some of the most rugged and desolate land in the
world, and provides a lifeline of freight and passenger transportation to
the largest country on Earth. It took over a century to complete, and most
of the work was done by criminals, political prisoners and prisoners of
war It is a source of myth, legend and history It is the Trans-Siberian
Railroad the "Zhelezna Daroga" the "Iron Highway" and there is as the
saying goes whether you see it or not a tombstone every mile......
The only difference between Socialism and National Socialism is the snappy uniforms. - Logan "Aside from ending Slavery, Fascism and Communist World Domination, War has never solved anything!""For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute! But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot." - Rudyard Kipling"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."---George Orwell"Always Remember-All Lessons in Life are Expensive.....and the last one costs you everything you have." - Logan"Socialism is just Communism without a Dictator....and you can always find a Dictator!" - Logan"An Armed Man is a Citizen. An Unarmed Man is a Subject. Subject to anything anyone wants to do to him." - Logan

#12 loganinkosovo

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Posted 17 January 2012 - 04:58 PM

http://urbanlegendso....com/tag/train/





Ghost Trains

It was early in the fall and a blowin’ up a squall
From the trestle you could hear the weirdest moans
With a mighty lonesome cry came a whistle from the sky
And it chilled the very marrow in my bones
Then a loud rushing roar like you never heard before
Turned the blood to icy water in my veins
As I watched with rising fear something strange was drawing near
And I saw in the clouds Ghost Trains

(Ghost Trains Ghost Trains what a fearful sight)
The Cannonball and No 9 were racing through the night
Just as they passed me by I heard the engineer cry
Give her coal give her coal shovel it on
You could see the fireman grinning in the engine that was winning
But I knew before the finish they’d be gone
(Well he knew before the finish they’d be gone)

You could see the drivers roll as they shovelled on the coal
And the black smoke came pouring from the stacks
As they thundered through the sky I am here to testify
You could hear the wheels a clickin’ on the tracks
Through the smoke and the steam you could see the headlights gleam
Now I have no proof but still the fact remains
You may doubt it but I swear there were cinders in my hair
When I saw in the clouds Ghost Trains

(Ghost Trains Ghost Trains what a fearful sight)
The Cannonball and No 9 were racing through the night
Just as they passed me by I heard the engineer cry
Give her coal give her coal shovel it on
You could see the fireman grinning in the engine that was winning
As I watched I saw them fade into the dawn
(As he watched he saw them fade into the dawn)



The only difference between Socialism and National Socialism is the snappy uniforms. - Logan "Aside from ending Slavery, Fascism and Communist World Domination, War has never solved anything!""For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute! But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot." - Rudyard Kipling"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."---George Orwell"Always Remember-All Lessons in Life are Expensive.....and the last one costs you everything you have." - Logan"Socialism is just Communism without a Dictator....and you can always find a Dictator!" - Logan"An Armed Man is a Citizen. An Unarmed Man is a Subject. Subject to anything anyone wants to do to him." - Logan

#13 loganinkosovo

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Posted 18 January 2012 - 09:28 PM

http://www.texasesca...Ghost-Train.htm



The Legend of the Olive Ghost Train
By W. T. Block

In October, 1930, a number of people stood in front of the probate judge in the coal mining country around the Marion County courthouse, dividing the property of the recently deceased Widow Hargraves. The widow's home had just been sold for $500, and the judge had arranged for relatives to adopt her two younger children. Her 18-year old son Tim stood in front of the judge as he said:

"Tim, times are real hard here in West Virginia since our coal mine closed down, and I want you to have a chance to progress elsewhere. I understand your Uncle Mart Hargraves works for a sawmill in East Texas."

"Yes, Your Honor," Tim responded, "but we ain't heard nothing from Uncle Mart in years."

"Well, Tim, I'm going to give you $100 from your Mama's estate, and I want you to buy a train ticket to Texas and look up your Uncle Mart. Maybe he can find you a job in a sawmill."

Tim found an old envelope among his mother's papers with the return address of "M. W. Hargraves, Box 46, Olive, Texas." A day or two later, Tim bought a ticket on the Southerner Railroad to New Orleans and another on Southern Pacific for Beaumont, Texas.

It was a bright moonlight night that October 30th when Tim Hargraves reached Beaumont, and he went straight to a booth and asked for a ticket to Olive, north of Kountze. The ticket master inquired, "A ticket to Olive? Why, that's a ghost town, and all the houses except 2 or 3 are gone. The East Texas Railroad passes nearby, but are you sure that's where you want to go?"

"Yes," Tim replied. "I've got to find my Uncle Mart." The next evening, Tim boarded the train, and the conductor told him he'd let him off at Olive, but that was no place to be after dark.

A few miles past Kountze, the train stopped as Tim prepared to exit. The conductor added, "That's the abandoned post office over there. You'll find a couple of families, including old Jules Berg, living a mile or so up that dirt road."

Suddenly Tim felt quite alone as he started down the dirt road into the forest, carrying his suit case. But there was a full moon in front of him, and the music of all the forest insects, the crickets and cicadas, filled the night air with their song. It never occurred to Tim, though, that there were also predatory varmints, including wolves, bears and panthers, in the surrounding woods.

After walking a quarter mile or so, Tim heard the chug of a steam locomotive, followed by a loud whistle, but he knew it was not the train he had just left. And intermittently the engine's headlamp flickered to his left, because the nearby pine trees sometimes blocked his view. Suddenly, with the full moon beaming in back of it, a locomotive started across the dirt road a hundred yards or so ahead, and Tim even saw the profile of the engineer in the cab. And then he counted five loaded log cars before the engine and its hissing sounds disappeared into the forest.

Tim hurried forward, and although he found evidences of a wide path through the forest, he could find no railroad tracks or crossties.

Bewildered, Tim kept walking until he saw the lights in the windows of a nearby "dogtrot" house. He knocked on the door until a voice within hollered, "Who's out there?"

"I'm Tim Hargraves from West Virginia, and I'm looking for Mr. Berg."

After a few moments, the front door opened, and a gray-haired man observed, "I'm Jules Berg, and how can I help you?"

"I'm looking for my Uncle Mart Hargraves, who I understand works for a sawmill somewhere around here?"

"That's a long story, young man." Berg could see that Tim was both tired and scared, so he invited him in to rest. Tim then related to Berg about the log train that had crossed the road ahead of him. He added that, although he had found a wide path through the forest, he could find no tracks or crossties on it.

"Yeah," Berg responded. "That's the old Olive ghost train and it makes one round trip every Halloween Eve. Ain't nobody but you seen it in recent years though. And there ain't no tracks or crossties on the old Olive tram road anymore 'cause they were all torn up years ago. By the way, what did your Uncle Mart do at the sawmill?" Tim said he did not know what his uncle did for a living.

"I knew your Uncle Mart Hargraves years ago when I was planer foreman at Olive," Berg continued, "but that was before the sawmill cut out and was torn down in 1912. Mart left here then and moved to Fuqua, in Liberty County, where he was engineer on the Kirby mill log train, before he died about ten years ago. My guess is that that was your Uncle Mart in the cab of that ghost locomotive you saw tonight."

Berg let Tim spend the night at his house, and the next day, as Tim prepared to return to Kountze, Berg gave him a letter and said:

"Young man, go back to Kountze and catch the Santa Fe train to Honey Island. Give this letter to Rufe Williams, who is dry kiln foreman at the Kirby mill, and if he needs a hand, he'll hire you. Just tell him that old Jules sent you."

The last that was heard about Tim Hargraves, he was still a sawmill hand at the Honey Island mill, but that was a long time ago. No one has reported seeing the Olive ghost train in many years now, but some Halloween night, if a locomotive should dart out ahead of you into a dirt road near Kountze, it's probably old Mart Hargraves, running late as usual and headed for the mill with a load of logs.
© W. T. Block, Jr.
"Cannonball's Tales" >
July 3, 2006 column


The only difference between Socialism and National Socialism is the snappy uniforms. - Logan "Aside from ending Slavery, Fascism and Communist World Domination, War has never solved anything!""For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute! But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot." - Rudyard Kipling"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."---George Orwell"Always Remember-All Lessons in Life are Expensive.....and the last one costs you everything you have." - Logan"Socialism is just Communism without a Dictator....and you can always find a Dictator!" - Logan"An Armed Man is a Citizen. An Unarmed Man is a Subject. Subject to anything anyone wants to do to him." - Logan

#14 loganinkosovo

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Posted 19 January 2012 - 02:46 PM

Let me know when you've seen enough train stories.........

:wow:
The only difference between Socialism and National Socialism is the snappy uniforms. - Logan "Aside from ending Slavery, Fascism and Communist World Domination, War has never solved anything!""For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute! But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot." - Rudyard Kipling"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."---George Orwell"Always Remember-All Lessons in Life are Expensive.....and the last one costs you everything you have." - Logan"Socialism is just Communism without a Dictator....and you can always find a Dictator!" - Logan"An Armed Man is a Citizen. An Unarmed Man is a Subject. Subject to anything anyone wants to do to him." - Logan

#15 loganinkosovo

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Posted 24 January 2012 - 10:21 PM

http://themoonlitroa...the-maco-light/


http://themoonlitroa...e-troll-bridge/
The only difference between Socialism and National Socialism is the snappy uniforms. - Logan "Aside from ending Slavery, Fascism and Communist World Domination, War has never solved anything!""For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Chuck him out, the brute! But it's "Savior of 'is country" when the guns begin to shoot." - Rudyard Kipling"People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf."---George Orwell"Always Remember-All Lessons in Life are Expensive.....and the last one costs you everything you have." - Logan"Socialism is just Communism without a Dictator....and you can always find a Dictator!" - Logan"An Armed Man is a Citizen. An Unarmed Man is a Subject. Subject to anything anyone wants to do to him." - Logan




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