It was 1953. The Presidential Inaugural Committee put in countless hours of planning and preparation. The bunting was hung, the bands rehearsed, and the big speech was written. As Jan. 20 neared, everything was in place for the country’s quadrennial party.
There’s always the risk of a wild card, the unexpected, the thing planners don’t anticipate that could ruin everything.
So it was in 1953. Final touches were being put on a celebration worthy of Dwight Eisenhower, the man who beat Hitler and won World War II. He was about to become the first Republican president in 20 years. It had been a long, dry spell for the GOP and Republicans were heading to Washington in droves to drink in the moment.
Then the wild card turned up, roaring into the capital on steel rails.
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The Federal Express, a popular passenger train, left New York City at 4:38 a.m. on Friday, Jan. 15. Some 400 passengers filled its 16 cars. Among them was the first wave of out-of-towners heading to Washington for inauguration festivities. Everything was fine when it left Baltimore at 7:50.
Suddenly, the air brakes malfunctioned. Trains were supposed to slow down on their arrival into Union Station’s train yard. The Federal Express kept speeding on. Suddenly, its warning whistle sounded. The tower man frantically called the stationmaster’s office and screamed, “Runaway Train on 16!” The stationmaster yelled, “Run for your lives!” Onboard, the conductor was rushing from one car to another, ordering passengers to drop to the floor and brace for impact.
Just 20 seconds later, the Express slammed through the stationmaster’s office, took out a concrete pillar, splintered a news stand, and plowed into the station. The floor gave way, toppling the engine into the basement mail and baggage rooms.
(This disaster inspired the 1976 Gene Wilder-Richard Pyror movie “Silver Streak.”)
It was a very close call. Incredibly, nobody was killed and only 43 people were hurt. It would have been much worse if dozens of workers in the basement hadn’t been on their coffee break at the time.
Union Station looked like a combat zone. NBC News was reporting live from the scene just 67 minutes after the accident, a record for breaking news coverage in television’s early days.
But now there was a huge problem. Tens of thousands of people were heading to Washington for the inauguration. Interstate highways hadn’t been invented yet and air travel was in its infancy. The vast majority of travelers would be heading straight for Ground Zero, the extensively damaged Union Station. It would take days to haul the damaged engine and rail cars out of it, and weeks more to repair the destruction.
What to do?
Crews sprang into action, working day and night in a literal game of beat the clock. Since they couldn’t get the train out of the station, they created an ingenious workaround: The engine was lowered into the basement and a wooden platform was built over it. They even erected a temporary office for the stationmaster, so he could handle the flood of incoming inauguration traffic. It worked perfectly. American ingenuity saved the day.
Eisenhower’s inauguration went on as planned. He managed a contribution to history: as an estimated 750,000 people watched, the Inaugural Parade went on and on and on. It lasted 4 hours and 39 minutes, the longest Inaugural Parade ever. Darkness had fallen when it finally ended.
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Ike also became the only president to be lassoed during the parade. Rodeo star Montie Montana roped the 34th chief executive as he watched from the White House reviewing stand. But even cowboys get nervous under pressure; Montana’s first try failed and he had to toss again.
The runaway train engine that threatened the celebration was eventually lowered into the station basement, disassembled, put back together and continued hauling trains into the 1980s. It’s now owned by the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad Museum.
The moral of this story: Whether it’s a presidential inauguration or a Broadway play, the show must indeed go on.
J. Mark Powell is a former broadcast journalist and government communicator. His weekly offbeat look at our forgotten past, “Holy Cow! History,” can be read at jmarkpowell.com. Thinking of submitting an op-ed to the Washington Examiner? Be sure to read our guidelines on submissions.
