Ronald Bingham | + Follow Poet |
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The Wreck On Gastons Hill

I watched as the old train chugged heavily up the hill.
   Puffing and puffing the smoke completely shadowing J. Gastons’ saw and 
paper mill.
Then I saw what looked to be another train coming down from around the bend.
    Some one needed to stop them but what kind of message could I send.
The one going up the hill was still chugging slow while the other was running full 
gear.
   Well I started shouting to the top of my lungs but no one could hear.
I knew what was fixing to happen and I couldn’t bear to look.
    Then I heard the awful sound of crashing metal as they both fell tangled into 
Gastons Brook.
It was a good half a mile I ran hoping somehow I could maybe help or lend a 
helping hand.
    The site when I arrived was more than I could stand.
I don’t think there could be any survivors they went in the deepest part right next to 
the dam.
    The water was icy cold and there came old Cooter being pulled by his old dog 
that they called Go On Scram.
Well I got down to the shore and helped pull Cooter to dry land.
    He looked fairly good except you could see he broke his hand.
I asked him if he thought anybody else might still be alive.
    He said I don’t see how anybody in the front could possibly survive.
I got a fire a going and tried to get him warm.
    I knew the townfolk would be coming cause I heard the church bell ring its 
alarm.
Here comes Jackie Collins followed by Dr. Lemuel White.
   Well he set Old Cooters hand right there on the site.
We helped him up to Doc Whites surrey and they drove him back to the old 
depot.  
    And he hollered to me to find Go On Scram before I was to go.
Well I found Old Scram at the waters shore.
    I called to him but I’m afraid Old Scram can’t hear me anymore.
I picked him up and carried him all the way back to old Coot.
    Coot asked me if I’d help bury him down by the track, said Scram loved to hear 
that ole whistle toot.
We said goodbye to old Scram that night.
     Sixty five years later and I still see that frightful sight. 
Well that’s the story that happened there down by Gastons mill.
     The wreck that I can’t forget that happened on that hill.
    
R.R.Bingham

Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2007

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