The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-02-07
One.Armed Men for Emergencies.

"a one-armed man for emergencies
every time" exclaimed an old railroad
official in the heat of an argument on
the prevention of collisions and other
accidents. 81 never knew to failin
time of danger. The loss of an arm
seems to increase their wits, and I can
name several instances of their display
of nerve and invention when other men
were of no use. Do you remember
Ross Marchman? No? Well, I'll tell
you the kind of fellow he was, when he
worked under me on the Piedmont Air
Line road.
"There is, not far from the South
Carolina | inc, a small town called ST.
vance. 1t is several hours ride froln
Atlanta, Georgia, and contains about
800 people. The telegraph operator s t
the depot is station agent, expires =
agent, ticket agent, truckman an |
porter. In fact, he runs the whole busI-
ness, and his is a responsible position.
He often works all day and all night
and it is a strain to keep up with the
work in the busy season, Ross March
man was telegraph operator and-so-
forth at Sewanee. He was about twen-
ty-two years old, and had lost his right
arm. How in the world he managed to
perform his multiplicity of duties is a
mystery, but he was never found want
ing in any of the qualifications neces-
sary to a successful accomplishment of
every task. We all had confidence in
Marchman. One night in November,
1882, he was sitting half asleep over hi
key, worn out with fatigue, when b :
was aroused by hearing himself Gale i
by the train-dispatcher. He answered,
and the following order came over the
wires: Side-track No. II, north bound,
Sewanee, l a. m. Hold for extra No.
3 south-bound, 1:04 a. m There was
nothing unusual in the order. March
man % KID it and made the necessary
preparations for tagging down No. u,
which, being a through freight, did not
stop at way stations unless signaled to
do so. The night was dark and stormy,
and the wind blew in gusts, driving the
rain into every crack and c~revice. The
track from the north past the station
had a heavy down-grade, and it was
the custom for engineers to blow a long
blast on the whistle, when their trains
crossed the summit, some half a mile
away. No. y was on time, and when
Marchman heard the blast he took his
lantern and went out on the track.
The headlight rose over the summit
like a full moon climbing the hills, and
flashed down the rails. The rain came
down in torrents, the wind whistled
past the of the station with
an ominous sound, the train came
laundering on Marchman raised
his lantern and swung it across
the track, but before the signal could
be given a fitful gust of wind put out
the light. The train was not two humid
red yards off and had not slackened its
speed. There was no time to get an
other lamp. 1t was a moment of horror
to the poor operator. No. 8, with its
freight of passengers, was coming just
beyond the town-the two trains would
meet-collision-d destruction death -
all passed before his mind like a flash
of lightning. He felt the quivering of
the ties beneath his feet as he stood in
the full glare OF the light now fearfully
close. Suddenly his hand sought his
pocket; there was a flash, a sharp report
of q pistol, and a bullet went crashing
through the headlight. The lamp was
eXtinguished, and as the engine passed
him, Marchman threw the pistol into
the cab window.
"Well, the train was stopped, and the
conductor coming forward to see what
"a wrong, reached Marchman just in
time to receive his orders, when the
latter, overcomefr from the terrible strain,
fell to the ground. The train was run
into the siding, and No. 3 dashed by at
about forty miles IN hour. Nota passen-
ger dreamed of what had happened.
"H)f course continued the official,
"wc remembered Marchman in a sub
~stantial way. That one arm, though,
was the making of him."-Cor. N. Y
Tribune,