Pre-Christmas Outing in 1919 Turned Tragic at a Railroad Crossing

A Mitchell touring car

Full of seasonal spirit, prominent Springfield residents, including the teenage son of distinguished architect Wilbur B. Talley, drove a Mitchell touring car to pick Christmas greenery miles from home. They crossed the railroad tracks south of Fishweir Creek on the old Orange Park Road, now Roosevelt Boulevard. It was a scene laden with undetected danger.

At 4:40 p.m., Dec. 21, 1919, Atlantic Coast Line passenger train No. 85 stunned the car's occupants as the train hurled through the automobile which was traveling toward a small, iron bridge over Fishweir creek. It was not the first or last accident between train and car on Orange Park Road.

The merry group had driven to gather holly and seasonal foliage, southwest of Jacksonville, from homes north of town on Boulevard, West 7th Street, Silver Street and other nearby addresses in the vicinity. On the shell road in the St. Johns Park area, inclement weather dictated the passengers close the car’s storm curtains, reducing their view. The last victim to die reported they neither saw nor heard the train.

A Mitchell touring car

Six people rode in the large Mitchell touring car, a popular make of the time, despite the company’s recent bankruptcy. The train’s engineer, by all accounts a reliable and seasoned performer, stated the Mitchell simply drove onto the railroad tracks 50 feet in front of the engine. Although he blew his siren, had the car passengers heard the horn, it was still too late to stop the train.

In customary journalism of the time, The Times-Union story described in detail the dreadful injuries suffered by those in the machine (car). The two front seat passengers were scooped up onto the pilot (cow catcher) of the steam engine together with parts of the wrecked vehicle. Both individuals were dead when removed from the pilot, while two other riders, with broken necks and additional wounds, were pinned beneath the chassis of the burnt automobile. Two, still living, were transported by other drivers, coincidentally on the road, to Riverside Hospital, the nearest in the vicinity. One of the injured, close to death or in a “dying condition,” expired upon arrival at the hospital. The other died several days later.

When the train was finally able to stop, the last train car was only 200 feet from the crash. Passengers, jostled and stirred by the collision, emptied their seats to view the wreck. They did what they could for the dead and nearly dead scattered about the tracks. The southbound train continued its journey to Tampa, stopping at Yukon station south of Ortega to phone the news to railroad officials at Sanford, Sanford officials relayed it to Jacksonville.

Due to problems recognizing and identifying victims, it was difficult to send the dreadful tidings to relatives. At last, the car license, unearthed from the burned wreckage, identified the Mitchell as belonging to A.B. Simmons, proprietor of a meat and produce store on Main Street.

Meanwhile back in the city, A.B. Simmons was waiting for his son, Herbert, 14, to whom he had lent his car for the afternoon, to meet him downtown at 5 p.m., as they had previously arranged. That, of course, was not to be, for Herbert Simmons, the driver of the luckless car, seated in the front, had died a horrible death, his body landing on the pilot of the engine. His friends, James Selby, 13, and Ralph McMillan, 14, also died at the scene, trapped with their necks broken beneath the burning car. Roberta Cravy, 12, stepdaughter of H.W. Purvis, who was, ironically, superintendent of the Seaboard Air Line Railway, died at Riverside Hospital upon arrival, and Sarah Talley, 13, daughter of Wilbur B. Talley, architect and designer, lingered for several days, regaining consciousness enough to say she had no knowledge of the train or the accident.

The only adult in the car, presumably as chaperone to the children, was Nellie Talley, mother of Sarah, seated beside Herbert, the driver, also died beside him on the cowcatcher of the train.

All the children were buried before Christmas, Simmons and Cravy’s bodies being transported to their hometowns. Selby’s service was conducted at the funeral parlor of Marcos Conant by the Rev. Hobson of the First Baptist Church. His pallbearers were his school friends, as were McMillan’s whose service was at Main Street Baptist Church, under the direction of the Rev. Lacy Mahon.

When the child’s long deathwatch ended, Talley's daughter and mother, were buried Christmas Eve, three days after the accident. Wilbur Talley, who had designed many fine buildings and homes in Jacksonville, later left the city for Lakeland, where he continued to create memorable designs in several cities. Some are listed on the National Register of  Historic Places.