Tag Archive | railroad

The Powhatan Arrow

Jun11


The Railroader, L.W. Buckland, Jr., recounted to me his relationship with the tragedy many years ago and kept a copy of the Bluefield Daily Telegraph that reported the accident. As dad told me the story, it was with heart-felt words and with a look in his eyes that he knew he had been saved from death on that dreadful day in 1946. There is no doubt in my mind, and I believe he absolutely understood, that it was by divine intervention that he was not a part of the crew onboard Engine #604 the Powhatan Arrow the day it wrecked in Powhatan, WV.

As a young fireman on the Norfolk & Western Railway, Dad said that he had been working this run from the extra board while the regular Fireman, Beecher Lawson was marked off on vacation. On the day of this accident, the fireman marked back up for his regular assignment as fireman on the prestigious passenger train, relieving L.W. from the job and back to the fireman’s extra board.

The Powhatan Arrow made it’s maiden voyage in April of 1946, just two months prior to this accident. Steam engine crews enjoyed the speeds they could attain on those engines and as is no surprise, the cause of the accident was listed as “excessive speed on a curve”.

According to: (source-Bramwell,WV) Two Bluefield railroad men were killed and two others injured in this Norfolk and Western train wreck at Powhatan, West Virginia, 18 miles west of Bluefield, WV. Engineer Grover C. “Nap” Roberts and fireman Beecher Lawson were killed when the eastbound crack stream-liner “Powhatan Arrow” left the tracks…Eleven passengers were hurt in the wreck. This deluxe train was eastbound from Cincinnati, OH to Norfolk, VA. Several thousand people from Mercer and McDowell counties were attracted to the wreck. It was reported that automobiles lined both sides of the highway for more than a half mile.

The Storytellers

May24

Attributed to Author Della M. Cumming ca 1943

We are the chosen. My feelings are, in each family there is one who seems called to find the ancestors. To put flesh on their bones and make them live again, to tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know and approve. To me, doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts, but instead, breathing life into all those who have gone before. We are the storytellers of the tribe. All tribes have one. We have been called, as it were, by our genes. Those who have gone before cry out to us, “tell our story”. So we do. In finding them, we somehow find ourselves.

How many graves have I stood before now and cried? I have lost count. How many times have I told the ancestors, you have a wonderful family, you would be proud of us? How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was love there for me? I cannot say.

It goes beyond documenting facts. It goes to who I am and why I do the things I do? It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and indifference and saying, I can’t let this happen. The bones here are bones of my bone and flesh of my flesh. It goes to doing something about it.

It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish. How they contributed to what we are today. It goes to respecting their hardships and losses, their never giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go on and build a life for their family.

It goes to deep pride that they fought to make and keep us a nation. It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us, that we might be born who we are, that we might remember them. So we do. With love and caring and scribing each fact of their existence, because we are they and they are us. So, as a scribe called, I tell a story of my family. It is up to that one called in the next generation to answer the call and take their place in the long line of family storytellers.

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Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” So God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female he created them. Genesis 1:26-27

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. Psalm 139:13-14

Come along while I share our story.

What is this blog about?

Jun21

It’s a reasonable question to ask, “Who is The Railroader’s Daughter and WHAT is this blog about? If you’re following this blog, you may wonder why you started following it.

Perhaps, your interest lies in railroads or the old bustling towns of Bluefield, WV and Bluefield, VA, built around the rise of the railroad industry.

On the other hand, you may be my family and you’ve been supportive of my efforts to uncover mounds of genealogy relating to our mountain roots in Russell, Tazewell and Mercer Counties and our relatives who fought to protect their families from the Indians and who were instrumental in establishing county governments and founding towns.

You may be an antique enthusiastic who shares my love of old things, primitive utilitarian items that tell a story of the pioneer ancestors who blazed the trails down through the Shenandoah Valley and into Southwest Virginia.

You may be totally unrelated to any of the above and just like the vintage junk that I drag home and transform into something fun or functional. Whatever the case…..

what is

Evolving over a period of years, The Railroader’s Daughter is an attempt to bring together all the things I’ve learned and loved. You’ll find an array of information, images, family history and surnames as they connect to my roots. There is a page of vintage finds for sale. I also showcase a collection of hand-me-down personal family items that reveal a glimpse into a child growing up in the mountains of southwest Virginia –  a lifestyle I now treasure.

Both of my grandfathers and several great uncles, my father and three of his brothers, one of my brothers and many of our cousins, my husband and I have all worked for the railroad. There have been good times, bad times – stories of coal mines and accidents, floods and survivals, living on the rails and beautifying the railway. It’s a strange way of life to many modern families, but a wonderfully exciting life for those who have experienced the romance of a dining car breakfast with fine linens, a childhood dream of a trip in the Norfolk & Western observation car or the stories of ancestors who moved all their worldly possessions in a boxcar. It’s a plethora of adventure.

I am The Railroader’s Daughter!  I am old enough to have learned a few things and to realize that those who came before me knew a little somethin’ about life. They had it harder than I have it. I appreciate my parents because they cared enough to teach me respect for my elders and how to say, yes ma’am, no sir and thank you. Although I moved away from the beautiful mountains of southwest Virginia when I was only 21,  I well up with pride when I brag about East River Mountain and Ward’s Cove and my roots in Appalachia.

Thanks for visiting, and I hope you’ll come back soon.