The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1884-01-17
How a Station Agent Prevented Dis
astr0us Collision.

"a one. armed mau for emergencies
every time" exclaimed an old railroad
official, in the heat of an argument on
the prevention of collisions and other
accidents. I never knew one to fail in
time of danger. The loss of an arm
seems to increase their wits, and | 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 line, a small town called Sc
waree. 1t is several hours ride from
Atlanta, Ca, and contains about 500
people. The telegraph operator at the
depot is station agent, express agent,
ticket agent, truckman and porter. In
fact, he runs the whole business, and his
is a responsible position. He often
works all day and all night, and it is a
terrible strain to keep up with the work
in the busy season. Ross Marchman was
telegraph operator and so-forth at Sc
vance. He was about twenty-five years
old, and had lost his right arm. How in
the world he ever managed to perform
his multiplicity. Of duties is a mystery,
but was never found wanting in any of
the qualifications necessary to a success
full accomplishment of every task.
We all had confidence in Marchman.
One night in November. 1882, he was
sitting half. asleep over his key, worn out
with fatigue, when he was aroused by
hearing himself called by the train dis
patcher. He answered and the following
order came over the wires: "Side-track
No. -, North. bound. Sewanee, l 8. m.
Hold for extra No. 8, South h-bound, 1.O4
a. M" There was nothing unusual in
the order. Marchman 20 KID" it and
made the necessary preparations for flag
ging down No. II, which, being q through
freight, did not stop at way stations un'
less signalled to do so. The night was
dark and stormy, and the wind blew in
guats, driving the rain into every crack
and crevice. The track from the North
past the station had q heavy down grade,
and it was the custom for engineers to
blow long blast on the whistle when
their trains crossed the summit, some
half mile away. No. IL vas on time,
and when Marchman heard the blast he
took his lantern and went out on the
track. The headlight rose over the SUM
NIT like full moon climbing the hills,
and flashed down the rails. The rain
came down in torrents, the wind whistled
past the corners Of the station with an
ominous sound, the train came thunder
ing on. Marchman raised his lantern
and swung it across the track, but before
the signal could be given ftful gust of
wind put out the light. The train was not
200 yards off, and had not slackened it's
speed. There was no time to get another
lamp. It was 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-collis-
on-destruction-death-all passed be.
fore his mind like 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, q sharp report of pistol, and q
bullet went crashing through the head.
light. 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
coming forward to see what
was wrong, reached Marchman just in
time to receive his orders, when the lat.
ter, overcome from the terrible strain, fell
to the ground. The train was run into
the siding, and No. dashed by at about
forty miles an hour. Not q passenger
dreamed of what had happened. Of
course we remembered Marchman in a
way. That one arm, though,
was the making of him.-Ne'o York 7ri-
bune.