 HOME | BLOG | ABOUT US | CONTACT US | PAST ISSUES | ADVERTISING RATES | RACK LOCATIONS The Great Bonsal Train Wreck by Gary Simpson For over two decades the tiny New Hope Valley Railway (NHVRY) has been providing children of all ages with a brief journey into the past. Jaunty yellow passenger cars bookended by two red cabooses pulled by steam or diesel powered dinosaurs from a bygone era reopen pages in the history book for all to see and experience. The trek down the tracks of memory lane is repeated five times a day on the first Sunday of the month from May through December. Many hundreds of people are transported into the past on a typical Sunday during the trip from Bonsal to New Hill and back. On this glorious Sunday I had traversed the back roads of Chatham and found my way to the quaint depot just over the county line. Arriving dutifully one half hour before launch, I purchased my ticket and became the caboose, bringing up the rear of an already long line of eager riders. Soon the haunting and nostalgic “whooooo – whooooo” of the steam whistle signaled the beginning of what was supposed to be another routine hour long trip. Little did we know … With ticket in hand I giddily boarded the final car and settled in. A young lad took the seat across from me. His eyes darted about. “We aren’t going over any bridges are we? I don’t like bridges,” he implored. “I don’t think so,” I replied. The eyes were unconvinced. “Just close your eyes if we do,” I sagely advised. He nodded his head and bit his lower lip. I glanced at the back of the souvenir ticket that would soon remind me of a relaxing and refreshing ride down the rails. In this land of litigation, it was the obligatory disclaimer holding the NHVRY harmless. In other words, “You can’t sue us for any reason. You ride at your own risk.” “No problem,” thought I, “this isn’t exactly a bullet train streaking across Europe with the countryside all a blur.” And the NHVRY web site did say, “The staff of the New Hope Valley Railway is an all-volunteer crew, trained to operate the equipment in a safe and professional manner.” Fact is, according to our volunteer conductor, in nearly 22 years of service the little NHVRY has been accident free. Here’s another fact that I learned well over 22 years ago from my High School Drivers Education instructor. No matter how many miles you may travel the roads, most traffic accidents will occur within 25 miles from your home. Putting the law of averages and the laws of physics together, it was only a matter of time before the irresistible force would meet the immovable object, and something would have to give. So … passenger car #2 of the NHVRY, meet 1988 Mercury Colony. Car vs. Train. Score: Train 1 and Car 0. It was an auspicious ending, nevertheless, to Mr. Kielty’s ride and to ours. Plowing into the broadside of a nearly inert train at road speeds in the neighborhood of 10 mph will render a car undriveable. But in this case it also left no one and nothing injured, except for the driver’s ego. After sitting behind the wheel for many minutes like a store front mannequin (or perhaps more appropriately in this case, a crash test dummy), the driver eventually crawled his way to the passenger side and sheepishly extricated himself to face the inevitable question of the RR volunteers. “What happened?” The response was forthright and straightforward: “I didn’t see the train.” The retort was equally frank and clear-cut: “You WHAT? What do you mean, you didn’t see it!? You ran smack dab into the middle of a bright yellow train!” Apparently no further explanation was elicited by more expert questioning from State Troopers, Fire Fighters and EMS personnel (along with the general public which was by now amassing like vultures around road kill). All the while, the lanky interloper shuffled about with head down, trying to avoid eye contact until EMT’s mercifully led him away from the unbelieving eyes of the swelling crowd. We saw no more of him, and pondered how his tale would fall upon the ears of family and friends. Meanwhile during the protracted ordeal, I and my fellow inmates remained sequestered aboard our respective train cars until someone would give the authoritative word regarding what to do with us. I voiced a suggestion that the railway bring aboard ice cream, popcorn and lemonade to assuage our wants and needs. They opted for little cups of water in return for our names, addresses and telephone numbers, along with an assurance that we were all fit as a fiddle and pleased as punch. We gladly obliged. Why not? We had just taken a trip back in time, and now had made history of our own. Not only had the young lad sitting across from me mastered his fear of crossing a trestle while we jointly peered over the side of the train, we had all just participated in the ride of our lives. We were ticket holders when on that fateful Sunday afternoon in June the NHVRY “squeaky clean as a (train) whistle” safety record came to a screeching halt at the Bonsal station crossing (no fault of their own). Everyone left with an amazing story to tell. And in this digital age, most folks also left with photos and videos of the mangled front end of a 1988 Mercury wedged under a mostly pristine train car to prove they were part of “The Great Bonsal Train Wreck of 2009.” (To learn more about the NHVRY, visit their web site at http://www.nhvry.org To watch an amazing video of the improbable fete, visit YouTube at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=enkh9A5jdUI) Gary Simpson is a Chatham resident and occasional contributor to Chatham County Line. |