William Graw

A man of many names
William Graw picked a bad night to work toward his career goals. He was on board the train working as an extra express messenger with the primary express messenger, Robert Ashmore. Graw’s plan was to learn the route and secure a job with the Southern Express Company.¹ He may have reconsidered that plan after he was forced to jump from the train as it plunged into the washout that night. He ended up with a sprained ankle and burns to his hands and face.

The proper spelling for Graw’s name was a small mystery. In the official report, Norfolk & Western listed the extra express messenger as W.H. Graid from Knoxville.² His hometown paper, the Knoxville Journal, first printed his name as William “Graf” in a July 3 article which covered the wreck.¹ Subsequent articles referred to him as William Graw, and a July 26 edition of the Knoxville Journal refers to him as William Graw of 13 East Depot Street.³ The 1889 Knoxville City Directory confirms the spelling as “Graw” for the man who lived at 13 East Depot Street.⁴

Graw’s life after the wreck is unclear, although there are some records of a William Graw marrying Agnes Curtain in Knoxville in 1894. There is nothing to connect that William Graw to the man on the train other than the hometown and name, but I have included that information here as a possible clue for anyone that might be researching.

Do you have more information about William Graw? If you think he might have been an ancestor of yours, or if you have some additional information that you would like to share, I’d love to hear from you. Thanks!

Sources

“Railroad Wreck.”, The Knoxville Journal (Knoxville, TN), July 3, 1889, Volume V, Number 114: p.1.
Fourteenth Annual Report of The Railroad Commissioner of the State of Virginia, J.H. O’Bannon Superintendent of Public Printing, Richmond, VA, 1890: p. xlv. http://books.google.com/books?id=CFopAAAAYAAJ
“Beyond The City’s Center”, The Knoxville Journal (Knoxville, TN), July 26, 1889, Volume V, Number 137: p.5.
E.W. Crozier,Knoxville City Directory, 1889, p. 177.

I was greatly surprised to hear that an accident had occurred at this culvert, as I regarded it as one of the safest on the line.

The wrecked cars burned with a fierceness that could not have been equaled if every stick of timber had been soaked in oil.

In the morning we found that there were four or five houses around the wreck. We screamed and the men yelled, but nobody seemed to have come to our relief. With all the noise I don’t see why those people could sleep, anyhow

I will not leave, ladies, until I see you all safe; I am a Virginian.

The shrieks and groans of the imprisoned victims could be distinctly heard from the bank.

I have stood on the battlefield, and heard shot and shell rattling around me, and seen my comrades falling like leaves in autumn, but I have never seen anything that curdled my blood with horror or moved me to deeper depths of compassion than the scenes of that dreadful night.

There never was such a rain fell on me to my recollection. Yes, sir, it was a scary time.

Little pieces of bodies could be seen, and were gathered in, and in some cases ashes, though most of the burned bodies in the shape of ashes had been washed away.

We have no knowledge of Mr. H. B. Wheeler whatsoever. If he was on the train that was wrecked he has not been accounted for, and I presume has been lost. His body has not been recovered, but may have been burned in the wreck.

It rained so it looked like it would take my breath away.

When I visited the scene you could not find wood enough to make a door, so complete had been the wash away and consumption by fire.

We may not know where their ashes slumber, but God himself will keep a faithful watch over their sacred dust.

The air was very still when I came out and the rain was coming down very steadily, but from the direction of the mountain, I heard very distinctly a very loud noise, a heavy rumbling in the clouds, that sounded something like an earthquake.

I just stayed there and did not know what to do, but just think on the Lord and asked him to spare me.

It was different from any rain I ever saw in its violence, and duration.

I never passed through a more terrible experience in my life, and I assure you I have no desire to participate in such another.

It was the most horrible thing I ever witnessed.

The first I recollect when I came to my senses I was halloing for help.

Oh, to see the wounded—all is a picture before me continually, and I never will again travel in the night.

Get the latest news!

Voices from Lost at Thaxton

Copyright © 2024 Thaxton Press