Photos retouched by Mark Lowell
J611 steam locomotive pulling an excursion train. Photo courtesy of VA Delegate Chris Head.
The J611 put forth a burst of steam and a throaty whistle as it departed Norfolk on May 18, 1986. The steam-powered locomotive pulled a consist of 23 passenger coaches with 1,000 Norfolk & Western employees and relatives aboard on an Employee Appreciation excursion trip to Petersburg. The day was clear and warm as the train traversed a stretch of track that ran through dense stands of pines in the Great Dismal Swamp straddling the Virginia-North Carolina border.
At the throttle was Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Norfolk Southern, Robert Claytor, a fully qualified train engineer. The iconic J611 had pulled numerous excursion trains since it first rolled out of the Roanoke Shops in 1950 and was the only remaining Class J engine still in operation. Considered the most advanced line of coal-fired steam locomotives ever built, the J611 was capable of reaching speeds in excess of 100 miles per hour.
Down below the tree line, temperatures soon reached a sweltering 90 degrees. As the welded rails heated under the intense sunlight, they began to expand and “crawl,” creating a twist in high-stress areas such as switches and turn-outs. On an isolated stretch of track far from any paved roads, the J611 and its first seven cars, clocked at 60 miles per hour, successfully traveled over a switch. The eighth car in line did not. Fourteen coaches left the tracks; two cars turning completely over, plowing and pouring tons of ballast in through the open coach windows. Other cars canted at odd angles. The cries of the startled and injured could be heard over the din of twisting metal.
Donald Burnett, a Norfolk & Western conductor, and brakeman Lynn Butler, were on board the baggage car, three cars back from the derailment. The car had double sliding doors open to the outside, with chain link fence providing a barrier between it and the passengers standing inside. Lynn was behind a counter selling souvenirs from the Tidewater Chapter of the National Railway Historical Society while Donald stood near the open doors.
When their car derailed, Lynn was thrown over the counter to the far side of the car; Donald grabbed for the door’s overhead grab bar. As their car canted at 45 degrees, he was suspended in midair for what seemed like an eternity. When the coaches came to a stop, more than 150 passengers lay injured and some would remain trapped for hours before rescue workers reached them.
As a conductor with decades of experience, Donald knew the greatest risk following a derailment was fire. Fortunate not to be injured, he ran from car to car shutting off electricity that powered lights and air conditioning. Ahead, the J611 and its remaining seven cars slowed and reversed, stopping a short distance away. Eventually, it would depart for Petersburg with as many passengers on board as possible. Because the swamp’s tall trees prevented rescue helicopters from landing, rescue teams were dispatched from Norfolk by cabooses.
As the cars lay on their sides in the hot sun, rescuers walking on the hot metal burnt the bottoms of their feet through their shoes. For Donald, this was the most serious accident of his long career; for Lynn it was the end of her dream job.
Conductor Donald Burnett aboard the private observation car of the Norfolk & Western president and CEO.
DONALD’S STORY
As a child growing up in Norfolk, Donald’s father worked on the railroad as a postal clerk on board a Railway Post Office that ran from Norfolk to Bluefield, WV. Donald accompanied his mother taking his dad back and forth to Norfolk Union Station to work and enjoyed watching the trains coming and going through the busy terminal. He loved standing where the track terminated, thrilled to watch the locomotive headlights getting larger and closer as it approached.
Donald was working for a finance company when he learned Norfolk & Western was taking applications. Railroad pay was higher than his own, and so he applied. Eventually, he was called for an interview and underwent an extensive physical before working his first three shifts unpaid to earn his spot on the railroad. He worked first as a brakeman, one of the most dangerous rail jobs in the business.
At the time, the Norfolk train yard freight crews consisted of a conductor, an engineer, a fireman, and two brakemen; the latter was responsible for throwing hand-operated switches, switching cars in and out of a consist, signaling the train crew when operations were complete, and manually applying brakes on a train car by climbing on top via a ladder while the car is often in motion. He worked this position for six years, working swing shifts and constantly on call.
“Family-wise it’s not the greatest job,” Donald explains. “When you have children you’re often at work when they are home in the evenings, and most of the time you’re working weekends until you accrue enough seniority to get weekends off. When I retired, I had Saturdays and Sundays off, but that was only after many years.”
After six years as a brakeman, Donald applied to be a conductor that required an intensive exam involving railroad safety protocol and memorizing, verbatim, dozens of signals that were a necessary part of everyday train operations. Today, as in the past, the conductor is the ultimate authority on the train. As a freight train conductor, Donald was responsible for the contents of the train, any relevant safety precautions related to the freight being hauled, and the train’s scheduled location at all times. Once en-route, he often handled a mound of paperwork. Before the advent of radio communication between crew members, the conductor and engineer were forced to communicate through a series of whistles and hand signals.
“Engineers used to brag that the railroad gave them a million-dollar engine to run and only gave the brakeman a $2 lantern,” Donald laughingly recalls. “But the brakeman would remind the engineer he can’t move that million-dollar engine until the brakeman with the $2 lantern tells him to!” A conductor for 33 years, Donald worked the Norfolk freight terminal, breaking the trains up as they came in and reassigning outbound cars and freight. Much of the inbound tonnage was coal destined for Lamberts Point coal terminal.
Lynn Butler scrambles up a coal hopper ladder.
LYNN’S STORY
Lynn Butler (Burnett) was always a tomboy whose grandparents lived close to the tracks, and she loved to train watch. When Donald told her Norfolk & Western was hiring, she seized the opportunity and applied for the next training class. As a single mother of two boys, Lynn was working for the Internal Revenue Service when she and one other woman applied in 1980 for jobs as brakemen in the wave of equal employment opportunities that arose in that turbulent decade.
“It was treated as a joke that we were there,” Lynn recalls. Expecting to see large muscular women, their classmates were surprised to see two petite but determined females. Following their coursework, the women were told they had to carry a 70-pound rail car knuckle the length of one railroad car. This had never been a requirement before. “They were doing this in hopes of eliminating both of us. So just for spite I carried mine two car lengths, turned and started singing ‘I’ve been working on the railroad’!”
After a week’s training and examination, Lynn donned jeans and leather gloves and joined her male counterparts as a brakeman. In all types of weather she rode atop the cars or hung from ladders, signaling and awaiting signals. She threw switches, coupled and uncoupled cars, and shifted cars from one track to another. It was physically demanding, and she loved every minute!
After a 30-day probation period, her work was to be evaluated by the conductors. “If three conductors said you weren’t qualified, then you were out,” Donald chuckled. “I heard through the grapevine that some of the conductors had gotten together to declare she wasn’t qualified. So I put out on the grapevine that she had worked for the IRS, who would be happy to take her back, and the three conductors who had stepped forward would likely be audited. That ended the ploy.”
Despite threats and intimidations from male workers, Lynn persevered and eventually proved her worth. “My grandmother was so proud! I occasionally worked out of Portlock in Chesapeake and on the days I was working she would bring her lawn chair out into the yard near the tracks and wave to me as I went by.” Lynn worked as a brakeman for the next eight years until the accident. She was taken by ambulance to Suffolk with back injuries severe enough to end her career with Norfolk & Western.
Donald and Lynn Burnett.
END OF THE ROAD
Now married, Donald and Lynn have retired to their waterfront home in Wake; their train room is filled with photos and memorabilia. As active members of the Rappahannock River Railroaders, a model railroad club in Deltaville, Donald runs O scale trains indoors and G scale outdoors. Both retain their love of trains and enjoy rail excursions, leaving the work to others.
Looking back on their many memories, and of the accident in particular, Lynn reflects. Afterwards, we employees were grateful the accident happened to us. You see, the next day an excursion train filled with children was scheduled to run. Our accident shut down the mainline for two days.”
Consummate professionals, the life of a train conductor and brakeman is a dichotomous one, balancing freedom and responsibility. Train crews ensure the safe passage of millions of riders and 50 million tons of freight daily. It’s an arduous task by a dedicated group of men and women who keep our railroads moving.