N
E W S L E T T E R
DISASTER
ON THE RAILS
The Wreck of the 4005
|
The
following is the story of the fatal railroad accident that
occurred at Red Desert, Wyoming between Rawlins and Green
River. Dispersed throughout the article are italicized quotes
by Jim Dover who had a first hand experience with the crew
and at the accident scene.
On April 27, 1953 the crew of the Union Pacific 4005 freight
train started out on a routine haul across the open prairie
of southern Wyoming. Engineer Leo Murry, Fireman Lawrence
(Ed) Endres, and Brakeman James R. Anderton made up the
head end crew. Conductor James Walker and Brakeman Ivan
Shurigar made up the rear end crew. Sixty-two cars and a
caboose followed the giant 600-ton ‘Big Boy’ locomotive
and it lumbered along the tracks.
“I
began working for the Union Pacific Railroad in 1951-52.
My duties were that of a ‘shagger’ or callboy.
The Dispatcher would give me a list of crew names both
head end and rear end and I would run up and down the
back streets of Rawlins haunting pool halls, bars, and
all the popular spots that even a young man was not supposed
to know about at the tender age of 16.”
“It
was some time around 3am and I was given a crew to call
for a westbound that would run from Rawlins to Green River
early that morning. I remember that the fireman, a fellow
named Ehlers (Endres), had come in early because he was
just discharged from the Korean War and had come back
to work for Union Pacific and wanted to sort of familiarize
himself again with the Big Boys. He and I stood there
talking while waiting for the Engineer, Hog Head they
were called in those days, to show up so they could go
from the yard office where the only warm stove was going
and go to the east end and pick up their engine for a
drag west. I stood just outside of the Dispatch office
and waved to the Engineer as that monster of an engine
thundered by shaking the cement floor and rattling the
windows.”
At
9:10 a.m. the train passed through Wamsutter, Wyoming, headed
westbound not knowing that in just 10 minutes the unthinkable
would happen. The morning was cloudy with a light mist and
the 0.43 percent descending grade made for easy travel.
All seemed normal.
At
this same time just 8.5 miles to the west another event
was unfolding. A section gang stationed at Frewen traveled
3.6 miles to the east to Red Desert on a track motorcar
to obtain a supply of switch ties. The foreman and four
section workers arrived in Red Desert and were approached
by a sheep herder requesting assistance in getting his sheep
across the tracks. (The size of the sheep herder’s
herd is not known, however, the average ranch in 1949 had
1,100 head of sheep). The foreman called to receive a track
line-up which read, “Westbound, Extra 4005 West, Red
Desert 9:15 a.m. Westbound, Extra 1480 West, Red Desert
9:50 a.m. Eastbound, Extra 3969 East, Red Desert 9:15 a.m.
Eastbound, Extra 1470 East, Red Desert 9:55 a.m.”
After he received the line-up information the foreman assigned
one section man to proceed eastward and other westward to
provide flag protection at each end of the side track. After
one eastbound and one westbound train passed they were to
provide protection for the sheep herder. As added protection,
two other section men were to open a switch in each main
track, which led to the siding. This would display a block
signal down the track in each direction warning any unannounced
approaching trains to slow down. The foreman unlocked both
switches and the section men were instructed to open the
switch on his hand signal. The foreman then walked back
to the sheep herder, some 300 yards from the switch, to
tell him what the men were going to do.
As
the 4005 approached the east end of the Red Desert siding
the Union Pacific section man opened the siding switch and
then, seeing the massive locomotive barreling downon him,
frantically made an unsuccessful attempt to close it before
the engine passed. The engineer made an emergency application
of the brakes as the engine entered the siding.
“I’m
only speculating now but I can visualize the fireman Ehlers
(Endres) and the head brakeman screaming at the top of
their voices to the engineer, STOP, STOP, RED SWITCH AHEAD!
But it was too late.”
The
4005 entered the open switch at 50 mph causing it to careen
off the rails and skid along its left side tearing up rail
and roadbed. The locomotive, tender, and first 18 cars derailed.
The cab of the locomotive was destroyed as the tender tore
into it twisting and smashing the metal. The first 12 cars
were badly damaged and piled in a 70' high heap. The thirteenth
to the seventeenth cars were somewhat damaged from the force
of impacting against each other and toppling off the rail.
Scattered about the scene was the train’s load: tractors,
dead hogs, typewriters, sewing machines, and other merchandise.
The
engineer Leo Murry and fireman Lawrence Endres were killed
instantly, and amazingly the front brakeman, James Anderton,
was alive.
“When
I arrived on the scene of the derailment, live steam was
still shooting at least a hundred feet into the air as
they had not been able to get close enough to try and
rescue the crew on the head end. The rear end crew, the
conductor, and rear Brakeman had survived and were just
walking around dazed.”
The
rear crew did not know anything was wrong until they saw
the emergency signal from the engineer. When they looked
out and saw the cars piling they both rushed out of the
caboose. Walker headed to the front of the train and using
a dispatchers phone called in what had happened. He could
not get near the wreck, as the hissing steam billowed around
the injured train. It took nearly 25 minutes for the steam
to subside.
Shurigar
protected the rear of the train by walking a mile back east
to set two torpedoes on the track so that the engineer of
an oncoming train would be warned and not collide into the
back of the derailed train.
Brakeman
Anderton’s left leg was twisted and pinned between
a wooden seat and the steel side of the cab. He was trapped
in an area of the cab no larger than 18” high and four
feet wide for ten hours while rescue workers removed tons
of coal and cut through steel to free him. Anderton asked
rescuers for a drink of water and a cigarette. A doctor
was able to reach into a narrow opening and administer a
dose of morphine to subside Anderton's terrible pain. Anderton
later told rescuers that his hands hurt and that he was
“chilling a little” but could no longer feel pain
in his foot. Anderton also told a rescue worker, “He
threw it right in front of us. The switch, they threw it
right in front of us, they didn’t give us a chance.
I felt the engine rock. I don’t know how many times
it rocked. The next thing I knew I felt the steam hitting
me in the face and I thought I was a goner. All I could
think of was getting my hands over my face.” Anderton
died at 10:57 a.m. on Wednesday, April 29, from second and
third degree burns covering 80 per cent of his body, severe
prolonged shock, and other complications.
Early
reports indicated that the engineer and fireman were alive
after the accident, as two workers said they spoke to the
men. This later turned out to be false; the two workers
were actually talking to each other from opposite sides
of the train.
Track
crews worked swiftly to clear the wreckage. East and west
rail traffic was delayed for nine hours until the construction
crew could install a shoofly to route rail traffic around
the accident site. Priority was to resume a normal traffic
schedule. Some westbound trains were re-routed through Cheyenne
on the Denver and Rio Grande.
Many
of the four car loads of pigs were killed upon impact. According
to workmen at the site some pigs provided comic relief during
the emotionally and physically draining rescue operation.
Occasionally a pig would regain consciousness and with a
terrific grunt would take off running through curious bystanders.
“The
Lincoln Highway 30 at that time was just a single lane
on each side and when I arrived at Red Desert the sight
was shocking. Railroad cars had flipped completely over
the bus stop and were laying everywhere. A lone Highway
Patrol car was out there trying to direct traffic but
was in a very dangerous situation in that the train had
been hauling those giant Iowa pigs to market that weigh
about 600 pounds and they were running around crazy in
the head after the derailment attacking people. The Highway
Patrolman was having to shoot them with this service revolver.”
“Several
days later I was back at work on the graveyard shift and
the Dispatcher told us the engine from the derailment
was being brought back in and was just at the west end
of the yard getting ready to come past the little Dispatch
office/passenger depot. We all stood outside and in the
still of darkness, not yet visible, we could hear this
groaning and wrenching of metal coming very slowly down
the rails being brought in behind the wrecking train,
it was the ‘Big Boy’ and it gave you a very
eerie feeling as it became visible in the old lamps of
the Dispatch office, slowly it came into view and if ever
I thought I had seen a ghost this was it. I did not know
a ‘Big Boy’ could die but there it was and how
sad it was just limping along like an old gray horse with
one leg broken. The cab was completely gone, only the
gray color of the firebox was visible and some of the
side rods were missing and it looked as if even the frame
had been broken. It just lumbered by all us, standing
there with our mouths open not believing what we were
seeing, this once huge, big, beautiful thing that was
once a living machine of giant steel. It disappeared into
the darkness like it came, being dragged like a person
to the grave, at the east end of the yard for temporary
storage. I could almost see Fireman Ehlers (Endres) waving
to me as it went past.”
Anderton,
before he died, provided some key information in determining
exactly how the accident happened and who was at fault.
Anderton noted that he and Endres had seen a man throw the
switch and yelled to the engineer. Murry ran across the
cab, looked, and then ran back and ‘big-holed’
it. Big-holed was the term used to describe applying the
emergency brakes.
During
the investigation Puerto Rican section worker Ralph Vicenty,
through an interpreter because he did not speak or understand
much English, said the foreman had shown him how to operate
the switch and when the foreman walked back to the sheep
herder it was the foreman who left the switch in the open
position. It was later determined that this could not have
been the case because the open switch would have displayed
a signal to the oncoming 4005 providing enough time to stop
safely.
Union
Pacific Railroad and Interstate Commerce Commission officials
reached the conclusion that Kenneth M. Mayfield, foreman,
and Ralph Vicenty, section worker who had been working with
the UP for only one hour and twenty minutes, were responsible
for the accident. There were considerable variances between
their stories, each blaming the other. The Interstate Commerce
Commission, Union Pacific Railroad, and local officials
investigated the accident. A meeting closed to the public
and press was held to determine how the accident occurred
and who was responsible. The Sweetwater County coroner’s
jury found Mayfield guilty of negligence for putting an
irresponsible man in control of the switch. Section worker
Vicenty was found responsible for throwing the switch onto
a side track.
“The
next time you climb up into the cab and look around, see
if you see the young eager face of Fireman Ehlers (Endres)
sitting on the fireman’s side screaming at the top
of his voice, “STOP-STOP-STOP!” Some day I will
get back to Denver, I will make a special trip to come
see an old friend, 4005, and climb inside and say hi to
Ehlers (Endres).”
By
1962 all twenty-five of the ‘Big Boys’ were retired.
Today eight of the original twenty-five are in museums across
the nation. Visit the Forney Museum of Transportation at
4303 Brighton Blvd., Denver to see the Union Pacific 4005.
Our 4005 was rebuilt by Union Pacific at its Cheyenne facility.
It is possible a different tender was used in the rebuilding.
The Big Boy shows very little evidence of the wreck damage
today.
In
memory of the crew:
Lawrence Edward Endres, 23
Endres was born July 4, 1929 at Las Animas, Colorado, and
was a graduate of Rawlins high school. He was a member of
the Brotherhood of Locomotive Fireman and Engineers. Endres
had just returned from a two-year tour of duty with the
railroad division of the army in Korea and was the son of
Mr. & Mrs. Roman Endres of Rawlins.
Leo
Glenn Murry, 42
Murry was an employee of the Union Pacific Railroad for
20 years and an engineer at the time of his death. He was
survived by his wife Lillian and two children, Patricia,
13, and Michael, 9. He was a member of the Fraternal Order
of Eagles, Council 2128, Knights of Columbus, the Order
of St. Christopher for Catholic Railroadmen, Junior Old
Timers, and the Brotherhood of Fireman and Engineers.
James
Robert Anderton, 36
Anderton was born April 17, 1917 in Robertson, Wyoming.
He attended schools in Robertson and at Mountain View, Wyoming.
He was a veteran of WWII and a member of the Brotherhood
of Railroad Trainmen and the Fraternal Order of Eagles No.
2350 at Green River. He was survived by his wife Ann, and
two children, Lola Jean, 10, and Robert Duane, 6, of Rawlins.
April 27, 2003 was the 50th anniversary of the accident
and we held a memorial for the crew on the 26th. We called
it Big Boy Day. We had railroad songs and stories, cab
tours of the 4005 and a reading of "Disaster on the
Rails" and crafts for the kids. Family of the crew
were there, as well as 2 engineers who had run the #4005.
The event was well attended and we thank all who came.
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Forney Museum of Transportation
4303
Brighton Blvd., Denver, CO 80216
Telephone: 303-297-1113
Open Monday-Saturday, 9am-5pm Closed Sundays
Thanks for your support and interest
in Historic Transportation
and helping us preserve the past.
