The Price of "Progress"

The night of August 18, 1893, was like any other in Lindsey, Ohio – hot, still, quiet, with stars twinkling silently in the dark sky. Local freight train Number 74 sat motionless on the siding, awaiting the passing of the Pacific Express. Bound for Chicago, the Express was 15 minutes behind schedule as it steamed out of Fremont. Its two coaches and three sleeper cars were loaded with weary passengers, including the entire Chicago Colts baseball team. The Pacific Express throttled up and thundered down the tracks at full speed toward the sleeping village of Lindsey.

Lounging beside their silent locomotive, the crew of Local 74 waved at the Express engineer. Seconds later, the earsplitting sound of metal grinding against metal ripped through the night air. The ground shook violently; windows rattled and then broke.

Although the Pacific Express’ engine and tender and baggage cars had passed the switch safely, weakened bolts suddenly gave way, sending the coaches and sleeper cars careening up the siding directly at train Number 74. Cars crashed into the freight train’s locomotive with such force that it spun completely around. It then toppled on its side.

As the cars of the Express grated against the freight train, the coaches and sleepers were ripped open, hurtling passengers into the midst of the tangled wreckage. The tender of the freight was tossed into a carload of flour, cushioning his fall. But Number 74’s engineer, porter, and brakeman weren’t so lucky. They were crushed beneath the freight’s engine as it toppled on its side.

Six Fremont physicians arrived at the scene by special train. The sight that greeted them was horrific. According to the Fremont Democratic Messenger, “arms, legs, and heads protruded from the twisted wreckage.” Many of Lindsey’s 500 residents stumbled from their beds, dug through the masses of metal, and carried victims to their homes. Those with minor injuries were loaded on to the undamaged cars of the Pacific Express and sent on their way. John Boyer’s mortuary took charge of the dead.

At 3 a.m., a wrecking train arrived from Norwalk to remove the debris. Late Sunday morning, railroad officials viewed the scene. By two o’clock, the tracks were cleared and repairs completed. A short time later, the line was up and running.

Despite numerous deaths and severely injured victims, there was no investigation, no policy change, and no new safety measures implemented. Tragic as it was, such accidents were not uncommon in the 1890s. Americans at the turn of the century were fascinated with technology’s steam, power, and speed. Trains could transport goods cheaply and reliably and travel to the far reaches of the country in record time. “Progress” and “a better life” had their price. Sometimes that price was extraordinarily high.