Exactly two days before Christmas of 1926, a lot of the passengers upon the northbound Ponce de Leon passenger train in northwest Georgia had happy plans for the upcoming holiday season. Little did they know, they not only would never enjoy those plans, they would never see Christmas on this earth again.
“I heard the shrill whistle and saw the headlights ahead, but the northbound was not slowing. . . . When I saw the collision was certain, I slammed on my brakes and called to my fireman to jump.”
-Arthur M. Corrie
Engineer of the Royal Palm
The tiny township of Rockmart, Georgia, in the northwest quadrant of the state was very sparsely-settled in 1926. It was a very uneventful place where a major disaster had simply never occurred. That changed on December 23rd of that year as two immense passenger trains crashed head-on in one of the worst disasters in U.S. railroad history.
Interestingly, though it was a tiny town, Rockmart had enjoyed passenger rail service since the 1870s, when philanthropist Seaborn Jones, according to tradition, donated land to Southern Railway for a rail line right-of-way through the county at no cost – with the stipulation that Southern would guarantee passenger service to Rockmart as long as the company existed. It was the strict timetable required for this passenger service which quite possibly became the catalyst for disaster in 1926.
That December evening was a dark and rainy night in the foothills of north Georgia, as are many days in the autumn and early winter months of that region. Despite the miserable weather and gloom outside, the Pullman coaches in the Ponce de Leon were nevertheless filled with warm diners and, no doubt, lively Christmas cheer.
Both the Royal Palm and the Ponce de Leon were crack passenger trains of Southern Railway, and were regularly patronized by many travelers, since the 1920s was a time when the rapidly-growing network of railroads in our nation dominated the travel industry. Both trains were renowned for their good food, accommodations, and timely schedules. December 23rd was no exception, as both trains hustled to remain on schedule.
It was at a long side‑track at Rockmart that the Royal Palm and the Ponce de Leon regularly passed each other on this route, so it was a common occurrence. The Southern railroad through Rockmart was not double‑tracked, so the side‑track a short distance from the Rockmart depot made it possible for these two luxury trains to pass each other and then continue on to their destinations in opposite directions.
In order to prepare for this maneuver, Engineer Arthur M. Corrie on the Royal Palm had throttled back to slow his big locomotive down to approximately 4 miles per hour to give the Ponce de Leon ample time to take the siding. All seemed normal until Corrie realized to his shock that the on-coming train was not slowing at all; nor did it seem that engineer Robert M. Pierce of the Ponce even intended to take the siding at all. To the contrary, a horrified Corrie realized that the Ponce was bearing down directly toward the Royal Palm at an incredible rate of speed.
For many years, engineers negotiating the Braswell Mountains just prior to Rockmart had become accustomed to increasing speed down the leeward side into the little town. This was particularly true – and to a greater degree – when there was no oncoming train requiring a pause on a side-track. All the engineers were constantly working to stay on schedule, because a timely delivery of passengers and postal materials meant “money.”
As could best be determined in the after-accident report, the engineer of the Ponce apparently was simply unaware of the need to take the siding at Rockmart, and was taking advantage of the acceleration opportunity down from the Braswell Mountains in order to make up for some lost time on his schedule. That misunderstanding, coupled with the poor visibility caused by the drizzling rain and fog, led to a disaster of immense proportions.
The late Leonora (Mrs. Robert Henry) Mintz was seventeen years of age on the day of the accident. Prior to her death, she lived not thirty feet from the tracks of the Norfolk‑Southern Railroad (formerly Southern Railway) in Rockmart for many years, and approximately one mile from the scene of the terrible 1926 disaster. When interviewed in the early 1990s, she stated that she could still clearly remember that fateful Christmas.
“At that time, we lived on our family farm (near the site of present‑day East Side Elementary School) in Rockmart,” Mrs. Mintz explained. “We heard the crash all the way from there. It was so loud, we thought it was thunder.”
As an experienced trainman, Corrie knew that he had just enough time to yell a warning to his fireman, pull on the whistle‑cord as another warning to his passengers, and then to leap from the train to attempt to save himself. After he had jumped, the next thing Corrie heard was the horrendous blast from the collision, the grinding of metal, and the horrible screeching of the train trucks on the twisting, ripping rails.
According to reports, Corrie later told Interstate Commerce Commission (ICC) investigators that he turned and watched as the Ponce de Leon, traveling at approximately fifty miles an hour or better, crashed head‑long into his beloved Royal Palm.
“I will never forget it,” Corrie later stated. “It sounded like the heavens had split open. I don’t want to ever hear anything like that ever again.”
Despite the enveloping darkness and miserable cold rain on the fateful evening, the noise of the crash immediately brought local residents running to the crash site. The provision of help to the injured and dying proved a challenge for the citizens of the tiny, poorly‑equipped community, for the carnage at the wreck site was absolutely overwhelming.
“When the Royal Palm and the Ponce de Leon collided, we weren’t allowed to go up there to see it, because it was just too horrible,” Mrs. Mintz explained emphatically, still shaken by the tragedy. “A friend of mine told me she and some other friends went to the wreck, and she said they saw the best‑looking gentleman in a car. All of a sudden, it seemed like his head just rolled off his shoulders. He had been decapitated.
“Rockmart was a very rural area back then,” Mrs. Mintz continued. “People were begging for help. We had no ambulances here at that time. Some people were carried in private automobiles to Rome (Georgia); others were carried as far away as Atlanta. It was just chaos.”
One can only imagine today the misery and pain endured by the injured as they were carried out of the wrecked train cars and laid upon the ground in the rain until they could be huddled into automobiles for what then was a long, bumpy ride on dirt roads to a hospital many miles away. It is not known today how many victims died of their injuries “enroute” to hospitals and doctors, but there no doubt were many.
Mr. Hal Clements, a retired educator and a native of Rockmart said he was a lad of 11 at the time of the disaster. He and his family resided on Bluff Street in Rockmart. He remembered traveling with his father to the wreck shortly after it occurred.
“It happened just east of (what today is the former) Goodyear Mill complex in an area we used to call ‘Barber’s Woods’,” Clements explained. “I was only eleven years old, so I don’t remember a lot. One of the things I do vividly remember, however, is the steam that was still rising from the locomotives. And I remember later that they brought a lot of boxes down to Cochran’s Funeral Home.
“My father drove immediately to the accident, because he wanted to help in any way he could,” Clements continued. “As I remember, I held onto my father’s hand the whole time. I knew instinctively that there were a lot of bodies in those crushed cars.”
Much of the horror of the disaster was caused by the Pullman cars of the Ponce de Leon which had “telescoped” into each other when they met the immovable force of the huge locomotive which suddenly had come to a halt. The impact was horrendous – a crushing and mutilation of passengers – as the heavy cars smashed one into the other and then were each crushed as the heavy wooden housings collapsed, piling up against the locomotive.
After the shock of the initial crash had passed, the screams and moans of the dying and injured passengers – many of whom were trapped beneath the huge weight of the wreckage – horribly filled the night. The Associated Press reported “The screams of women pinned beneath the wreckage were mingled with the hoarse shouts of men and the prayers of a Negro waiter when he was released, uninjured, from a hole in the side of the dining car.”
According to the Rome (Georgia) News-Tribune, “The scene. . . . tested the strength of strong men. Bodies of victims crushed and mangled beyond description were . . . unreachable because of tons of weight upon them. The roof of the diner was rolled up like paper. The body of one man was hanging from a window, his legs pinned beneath the heavy weight.”
Most of the residents of Rockmart were unprepared for the trauma involved in a disaster of the magnitude of the 1926 wreck. Some rescuers went about their work numbly; others found themselves simply unable to continue as the shock set in.
Most sources today agree there were approximately 20 fatalities as a result of the collision. The official Interstate Commerce Commission report, filed January 11, 1927, reported that 11 passengers, 7 Southern Railway employees, and 1 news agent were killed (a total of 19 deaths as of that date; others may have died at a later date as a result of their injuries.). The report went on to explain that 113 passengers, 4 Southern Railway employees and 6 Pullman employees were injured in the wreck. It was miraculous that the death toll was not higher.
On December 24, the front page of the Atlanta Georgian trumpeted “18 Dead In Wreck.” Due to the confusion which reigned at the scene of the accident and the inaccuracies in news reports of that day, several variations of the death count were published.
The dead in the Ponce de Leon included Road Foreman of Engines, Robert M. Pierce, who had assumed the engineer’s duties from the regular engineer shortly before the crash. An arm and a leg were amputated from Pierce in a futile effort to save his life, but he succumbed shortly thereafter. Also dead was the fireman in the engine with him – H. R. Moss – who was killed instantly. W.H. Brewer, the baggage-master, died a few hours later.
Others listed as dead in the December 24, 1926 issue of the Atlanta Georgian were:
- Dr. P.T. Hale, 69, a professor of evangelism at Southern Baptist Seminary in Louisville, KY.
- W.L. Dynes, 56, an Atlanta real estate developer who lived at 951 Courtney Dr.
- J.E. Frost of 509 Foster St., Chattanooga, TN.
- L.B. Evans of Lebanon, KY, Kansas City and Jacksonville, FL addresses.
- Mrs. J.W. Whitaker of Chattanooga, TN.
- Goldie Williams, the infant daughter of Mrs. Alice Williams of Detroit, MI.
- J.W. Whisenhunt of Aragon, GA.
- W.I. Dowie, Jr. of Jacksonville, FL.
- A young boy, age approximately 8 years, believed to have been the son of Mrs. George Hardy of Toronto.
- A young girl, age approximately 10 years, with the initials H.M.H. on a bracelet, believed to have been the daughter of Mrs. Hardy.
- Six other individuals were unidentified: two white and four Negro.
- Those listed as injured in the same article were:
- Mrs. George Hardy of Toronto.
- J.W. Dosser of Chattanooga, TN.
- F.W. Swann of Bolton, GA.
- Will Kuhn of St. Louis, MO.
- L.I. Seibert of Chattanooga, TN.
- Corporal Gus Rusts of Ft. Oglethorpe, GA.
- Dan Lobrugh of Cincinnati, OH.
- Robert Hilty of Lansing, MI.
- Edward Wiseman of Louisville, KY.
- H.E. Bullis of Lexington, KY.
- R.L. Bateman of Macon, GA.
- Mrs. J.J. Finlay of Chattanooga, TN.
As for the Royal Palm, the injuries were much less severe, and there were no fatalities. Much of this was due undoubtedly to the slow speed of the Royal Palm as its heavy engine impacted the Ponce de Leon.
“The hand of providence guided the destiny of the Royal Palm last night,” Corrie told a reporter at his home Friday morning following the accident. “I was barely moving, pulling my engine along about 4 miles per hour as I neared the switch at the siding.
“I was obeying orders to await the Ponce de Leon which was to pull up and go into the siding so I could pass. When I saw the collision was certain, I slammed on my brakes and called to my fireman to jump.
“I jumped to the ground and rolled down a steep embankment. I don’t suppose I was 30 feet away when the two engines met. . . . I fully expected the engine and cars to topple over and roll down upon me, but they didn’t.”
The Royal Palm consisted of one club car, five regular Pullman sleeping cars, one dining car and two Pullman sleeping cars of all‑steel construction. They were pulled by Engine #1456.
The Ponce de Leon consisted of one combination car (half baggage & half coach), one coach, one dining car, and seven Pullman sleeping cars, all of steel construction, pulled by Engine #1219.
Following the impact, both engines were derailed, but somehow remained upright. Engine #1219 (Ponce de Leon) was badly damaged and its tender was torn from its frame and thrown down the embankment on the inside of the curve. The combination car was telescoped at its forward end nearly the length of the baggage compartment. The coach immediately following it telescoped into the dining car.
Though there has been much speculation, the positive cause of the accident is still not known to this day – or if it is, it has not been reported – and many questions linger:
What about the switch controlling the entrance to the siding? Much speculation has centered around this device. It is not known today if it (the switch) was even open to admit the Ponce de Leon to the siding, but even if it had been open, the Ponce de Leon was moving at an incredible rate of speed far in excess of that which would have allowed it to negotiate the arc of the turn leading into the switch.
Another question centers around the speed of the Ponce de Leon. The descent down from the Braswell Mountains into Rockmart can be a perilous route. As recently as 1961, another train – this time a freight – was derailed in almost the identical spot as the 1926 disaster, causing an immense catastrophe in its own right. Speed and a lack of familiarity with the incline from the Braswell Mountains into Rockmart quite possibly played a role in that accident, and are suspected as prime catalysts in the 1926 disaster as well.
Just a few moments prior to the 1926 accident, S.J. Keith, the regular engineer, was directed by Pierce to “go back into the train.” According to Keith’s later statement, Pierce was running behind time, and therefore had advanced the speed of the Ponce de Leon to an excessive rate, “dropping down off the mountain below Rockmart.”
According to the 1927 Interstate Commerce Commission report on the accident, “When it (the Ponce de Leon) stopped at McPherson, 11.4 miles south of Rockmart, for the purpose of meeting an opposing train, Road Foreman of Engines Pearce, who had been riding in the combination car, boarded the engine and took charge of it, Engineman Keith going back to ride in the combination car.
“Train first No. 2 (the Ponce de Leon) departed from McPherson at 6:23 p.m., 15 minutes late, passed Braswell, 6.4 miles from McPherson, at 6:35 p.m., 16 minutes late, passed the south passing track switch at Rockmart and collided with train #101 while traveling at a speed believed to have been approximately 50 miles per hour.”
Some individuals have speculated that the blinding rain, coupled with Pierce’s unfamiliarity with a newly‑installed switch‑head, were responsible for the tragedy. Others have maintained that in the driving rain, Pierce mistook a freight engineer’s signal from a siding further up the line as the Royal Palm’s signal that all was clear. This, at the very least, might provide a measure of explanation for Pierce’s obvious decision to continue on at top speed without instead taking the side track.
The Interstate Commerce Commission report, however, concluded that the wreck occurred because Road Foreman of Engines Pierce, who had relieved Engineman Keith, either failed to have a thorough understanding with the engineman as to the contents of Train Order #92 (requiring him to take the siding), or else simply forgot it.
The true reason for the tragedy may never be known, since this information departed with Robert M. Pierce when he succumbed to his injuries shortly after the wreck. However, over the ensuing years of time, there have been some long‑time former employees who have developed interesting opinions and theories concerning the accident.
Mr. H.D. “Cowboy” Mintz, a retired Southern Railways senior conductor and the son of Mrs. R.H. Mintz of Rockmart, says passenger train crews always consisted of the oldest men on the seniority list. Therefore, most of the Southern Railway employees from the Ponce de Leon and the Royal Palm who were involved in the accident were either deceased or retired by the time he was employed by Southern in the mid‑1940s. However, “a few were still around,” he said, and they – from time to time – shared their thoughts with him.
“I worked with Nath Turner, an engineer on the Royal Palm; Henry Sorrells, the conductor; and Harry Smith, the flagman,” Mintz related. “Harry told me he and Henry were up in the cupola on the caboose on the rear of the Royal Palm, and they could hear the Ponce de Leon ‘still working steam’ as it was approaching. The whole train should have been coasting down the grade by that point. He always thought Bob Pierce was attempting to make up the lost time the train was suffering from.”
But Mr. Mintz also says there have been rumors over the years of a personal vendetta between Keith and Pierce, and speculation regarding the possibility that this may have played a role in the disaster.
When Keith was relieved of control of the engine by Pierce at McPherson, could he (Keith) possibly have intentionally neglected to inform Pierce that the Ponce de Leon was to take the siding in Rockmart? Surely Keith would have known that failure to communicate these instructions to Pierce would have meant almost certain death or injury to himself.
The Interstate Commerce Commission report however, states unequivocally, that “After the accident, Mr. Copeland assisted in removing Road Foreman of Engines Pearce from his engine and he said the road foreman asked him how the accident had occurred. When told that he had failed to take the siding for train #101 (the Royal Palm), he replied that Engineman Keith, Fireman Moss and everyone concerned had told him that he was to hold the main track.”
“Harry Smith’s personal observation, Engineer Keith’s statement that he explained the conditions of the orders to Pierce, and the theory of a personal vendetta between Keith and Pierce will always add to the mystery of the Rockmart wreck,” Mr. Mintz added. “We’ll never know the answer for certain.”
Today (as of this writing), trains – albeit freight trains – still pass swiftly down this same single-tracked railroad from the Braswell Mountains into Rockmart. They often are moving at what almost anyone would deem to be an excessive rate of speed, causing automobile drivers at the Rockmart track intersections to cautiously stop far in advance of the crossings.
And to the rear of the former Goodyear Rubber Company building in Rockmart, a lone siding still exists today in virtually the identical location as the 1926 siding, almost as a harbinger of the terrible 1926 disaster, and reminding the trainmen to “slow down.”
