Around 9 P.M. on a snowy
October evening, a truck turned off Winslow’s main road and puttered onto a
rough country road. In the past, the road was not so rough. For many years the
purpose of the road provided enough cause for the town to keep it maintained,
but time had taken its toll and the road’s value was considerably less now than
in the past. The town council only
maintained the road when the driver of the truck attended town meetings to
request assistance on the road’s upkeep.
Purchased new in 1948, the truck – unlike the road it ambled along - was
well-maintained mechanically, but was physically showing its years as 1970
approached. This was also reflected in
the driver of the truck. Though many said he looked good for being close to eighty
years old, he knew that his body was failing him. It was not just the creaks and stiffness of the
joints, but he felt inside that his heart was not as strong as it once was. His
doctor told him the fatigue was just part of getting old, but he still could
not accept being unable to do the things that had once been part of his daily
routine. He had been a farmer all his life, and up until a few years ago he
could still maintain the farm. After his
first heart attack, his wife convinced him to rent out the land for others to
farm. Although his manhood fought her
suggestion, he knew his wife was right; he simply could not keep up with the
work that was required to raise crops year after year. So with a heavy heart, he sold some of his
property and arranged to rent the rest of his land to some neighboring
farmers. His wife was fine with him maintaining
the garden and that took up a little of his time. Still, seeing others work his land in the
spring made him feel more and more like time was tightening its death grip on
him.
The trip down the country road
lasted a mile-and-a-half until the truck’s lights illuminated the fence gate at
the end road. The sign to the right of
the gate read, “Private Property: Keep Out! For entrance, contact Elias
James”. The man put the truck in
neutral, exited the vehicle, and approached the locked gate. Extracting a set of keys from his pocket,
Elias James unlocked the gate and swung it wide enough to allow the truck to
pass. The old man retreated to his truck
and drove a short distance toward a gravel parking lot. The truck’s lights shone ahead, revealing a
one story building that was approximately 150 feet long. The building was constructed mostly of wood
and elevated about three feet off the ground.
The crawl space under the building was covered in sections of latticed wood
designed to keep the local varmints out from under the building and to let some
welcomed airflow in to prevent the building’s foundation from rotting. The roof of the building was high with a
pitch that provided cover over porches which extended on both the parking lot
side and the side facing the railroad tracks.
There were several windows in the building, and to a person with a keen
eye they would be observed to not be of the same time period as the building
itself. For years the town had let the
building fall into disrepair until Elias purchased the property using some of
the money he made selling off his farm land. He first fenced in the property
and placed signs warning trespassers that this property was now under his
control. He then set out to repair the
building, first restoring the windows, and then stripping the wood and cleaning
up the interior. Finally, Elias contacted
several locals who possessed items which once furnished the building and asked
if they would be willing to donate them back.
He explained to them that he wanted to bring the building back from
disrepair and to make it into something that the town could point to as an historical
building from its past. Nearly all of
the locals Elias contacted was pleased to return their various items to the
building. Of course mostly all the local
people knew the real reason underlying the request and felt that the items
might do more for healing than for historical purposes. The non-local individuals
were a bit more reluctant to give up their antiques, forcing Elias to persuade
them with cash.
Having exited the truck, Elias
approached the old train depot and took the main steps up to the porch and headed
left to the largest of the doors facing the gravel parking lot. The door was labeled “Tickets &
Waiting”. Elias reached into his pocket
for his set of keys and produced one that unlocked the door. The door swung open with a long creak and
Elias entered into the dark waiting area.
Knowing the property by heart, Elias turned to the right and withdrew a
match from his shirt pocket. Striking
the match against the wall he illuminated an oil lamp that was directly in
front of him hanging on a bracket on the wall.
Easing up the glass chimney on the lamp, he lit the wick. Blowing out the match, he turned up the
lamp’s wick and was able to inspect the interior of the room. Oak benches lined every open wall space and
several oak benches were positioned back to back in the center of the
room. Walking around the benches in the
center, Elias approached another oil lamp on the far wall and repeated the
procedure to light the lamp. Now the
room was fully lit with an amber glow and it was safe to walk around without
tripping over a bench or two. Other than
the benches the room contained a large potbellied wood stove in the east corner. Running along the west wall was the ticket
cage where travelers could buy a ticket to anywhere along the rail line. To the left of the cage was a door where the
ticket agent could enter and exit.
Elias exited the depot and
went back to the truck to retrieve a package from the front seat and some
firewood that was neatly stacked in the bed of the truck. Returning to the waiting area, Elias walked to
the bench closest to the east wall and carefully placed the package onto the
bench. He then walked over to the wood
stove and deposited the firewood. Once
he closed the door he then surveyed the room looking for any areas that would
need some work in the future. Seeing no
immediate signs of disrepair he proceeded to start a fire in the woodstove.
From a box near the wood stove he retrieved some dry kindling and within
minutes he had a good fire going in the woodstove. Soon the waiting area would be a little more
comfortable on this cold October night. To
the right of the woodstove was the door to the railroad platform. With tickets in hand, riders would exit out
this door to board a train, all the while dodging incoming passengers who
poured into the waiting room from the railroad platform. Jubilant and weary,
some of these travelers had reached their final destination. Most however, would plop down on a bench and
wait for another train to take them elsewhere.
Back then, local advertisements would have likely lined the walls of the
waiting room. Tonight, however, the
depot’s sole inhabitant was entertained by historical pictures of the depot from
back in its heyday. Elias was grateful to
the many locals for donating the pictures and the frames. Elias used the town library’s Remington
typewriter to create a little description, which was placed in the frame at the
bottom of the picture. He recalled with
a scoff how many times he had to rip out a page and start over, as typing was never
his forte’. Upon scanning the pictures on the wall, a careful observer would notice
that one framed picture did not have any description under it. It was a picture of a little girl, maybe ten
years old, standing on the depot’s platform holding a parcel in her arms. The face of the little girl was beaming as if
the package meant the whole world to her.
It was this picture that Elias stood in front of and stared at for
several seconds before exiting the waiting area through the door to the ticket
cage.
The area where the ticket
agent sat was small, but efficient. A
long oak counter, replete with cubby holes to store ticket forms, luggage tags,
and stamps stretched beneath the cage’s wire façade. On the back wall of the ticket cage was a
giant chalkboard. The top of the board
listed the name of the rail line as “The Missouri Pacific Line” and this was
followed by the day’s date. The board
was broken into two sections, with the left section labeled “West or Southward”
and the right labeled “East or Northward”.
Each section listed the train number, the time it was due and an
indicator if it was on time or late. The
board would have been continually updated by the ticket agent all throughout
the day, so that those interested in what train was coming in or going out
could just read the chalkboard without having to bother the very busy ticket
agent. Frozen in time, the chalkboard
had not been updated in decades. The
date above the sparsely-completed schedule read, October 19th 1947. Only one train was listed on the westbound
side, Colorado Eagle, slated to
depart at 10:20 P.M. The ticket agent’s
desk was against the north wall and contained an old candlestick telephone to
send and receive updates regarding the trains passing through. The desk also contained various sundry
writing instruments and pads of paper. Elias knew that in the past his friend
Bill, who was a ticket agent on the line in the forties, would have a bottle of
whiskey in the lower left-hand drawer.
Bill said he needed something to cut the chill on those cold January
days. To make things as realistic as
possible, Elias put a bottle of whiskey in the same drawer. The door in the back of the cage lead to the
depot’s baggage and storage area. Elias
opened the door and entered the musty smelling area. Reaching into his shirt pocket he once again
extracted a match and lit a nearby oil lamp.
The lamp illuminated a fairly empty room. The only items in the room were carpentry
equipment Elias used to refurbish the depot, some spare wood he kept on hand to
repair the building and another potbellied wood stove. The baggage area had two large doors to get
luggage and such in and out. One door
facing the parking lot and one door facing the railroad. Elias remembered many a time he would have to
get his farm seed out of this room when the freight train would bring it to
town. He always picked it up himself
rather than at the feed store because that cheapskate O’Brian would charge him a transportation fee if he had to pick it up and bring it to the store. After looking around the baggage area to
ensure nothing needed his immediate attention, Elias blew out the lamp and
exited back into the waiting area through the ticket agent’s cage.
The waiting area was getting
much warmer now and Elias stoked the stove once more with fresh wood. After closing the stove door he extracted his
pocket watch and saw that the time was around 9:45 P.M. With a slightly-hunched shuffle, Elias
returned to the bench where he had placed his package and sat down with a sigh.
For twenty-three years Elias had been coming to the depot on this very night
and for some reason he felt this night would be different. It couldn’t be
because a train would be coming, because this depot stopped servicing passenger
trains in 1961. All that passed by now were freight trains that had no need to
service his town because the town had a nice highway for trucks to use. Neither could it be that others would be
joining him in his vigil. No, everyone
that might have come was now gone, even his beloved wife Maggie, who recently passed
away to a cancer that no doctor could heal and no amount of time could mend the
hole in Elias’ heart. Year after year
she had sat on the bench by his side, even though he knew she wished that he
would give it up the solemn tradition.
The reason for the vigil tested his marriage quite a number of times,
but through it all their marriage covenant was stronger than the turmoil that
life sometimes creates. Elias did not
know why this night felt different but he just felt something. It could just be that his heart was telling
him that this may be the last time he would be alive to do this. The second heart attack took a lot out of him,
but he still managed to make it to the depot that year even though Maggie
begged him not to. She said she was
happy with the gravestone in the town’s cemetery and they did not need the
depot, but Elias knew that it was just a stone.
There was no one buried there and thus no memories to be called forward
for consolation. The depot held the
memories of Elizabeth and not an empty grave.
Elias felt close to Lizzy at the depot and on this night he could close
his eyes and let the recollections of the last time he saw his darling daughter
come rushing back to him.
October 19th, 1947
was a crisp fall day and the snow was threatening to come down in soft flurries
at any moment. Lizzy and Maggie had
packed up Lizzy’s things all the while Lizzy talked on endlessly to her Mom
about her future and the trip to Denver.
She was apprehensive about leaving home but excited about doing
something with her life. Something that
the small town of Winslow could not provide.
Heaven knows Elias had tried to get her married off to someone in town,
but Lizzy would have none of it. She was
independent and wanted more than being someone’s housewife or working as a
telephone operator in a small town. She passed
through all the school the town had to offer, but she wanted more. She corresponded to others in Denver that had
the same thoughts and arranged for a job in the city and further schooling at a
local woman’s college. Lizzy and the
other girls would be living together and supporting each other while attending
school and pooling their resources so they could afford to stay in Denver. Elias and Maggie both felt saddened by their
daughter wanting to leave but Lizzy was strong willed and headstrong. They loved their daughter but knew that they
could not hold her back when she set her mind to something. This was not to say
Lizzy made a hasty decision. Lord knows
how long she talked about it and planned and prayed. Elias and Maggie both prayed for their
daughter and trusted God to watch over her wherever she went. Elias also knew
that Lizzy was not cut out for farm life. It takes a special person to be happy
being a farmer’s wife. Not that Lizzy
was lazy. She could work rings around
some of those boys that hung out at the feed store. She just wanted something better and that is
mostly why Elias gave in to his daughter when she broached the subject about
getting more education in Denver. Elias
never cared too much for Denver and the few trips he had to make there by train
did not help his opinion much. Farm life
and open spaces appealed more to Elias than a big city surrounded by mountains.
Around 7 P.M. Elias, Maggie
and Lizzy gathered in the sitting room of the house, where Lizzy’s bags were
collected. They gathered for one more
prayer and several more hugs and tears before a final hug on the depot’s
porch. Her train was to leave at 10:20 P.M.
and after switching two trains she would arrive in Denver tomorrow where her friends
would meet her. Maggie went through her
list of things for Lizzy to remember once again, for the tenth time. Lizzy looked at Elias during Maggie’s speech
and Elias just smiled at his daughter.
The smile said to Lizzy just listen as Maggie’s list just reiterated the
love Maggie had for her daughter. Lizzy
smiled back as she understood how hard this was for her Mom and Dad.
When the luggage was put in
the bed of the truck, the family climbed into the cab three abreast and headed
to the train depot. The drive to the depot was done mostly in silence with
Maggie clutching Lizzy’s hand. Elias
could see Lizzy’s eyes every once in a while and saw that she was tearing up during
the drive. The truck pulled up to the
depot and Elias got Bill to help him get Lizzy’s bags into the passenger
luggage area while Maggie and Lizzy went to the waiting area. Bill did not say much to Elias getting the
bags into the depot but once they were tagged with their destination he asked
Elias, “Lizzy is going through with the trip huh?” Elias nodded yes and said
“She is an independent young woman who sees a future outside of Winslow. I
believe she is doing the right thing as she would have shriveled up living in
this town all her life.” Bill replied, “She always was a trailblazer and not a follower. I am going to miss her around here though.”
Elias just replied, “Thanks” and shook Bill’s hand.
The ladies were seated on the
east wall bench when Elias found them.
Lizzy informed him that the train would be on time according to the
board. Elias took a seat on the bench next to Lizzy and took her free hand, as
her Mom was holding the other. Elias
squeezed the hand and told her “You be strong and wise out there. Look for the good in people and wise enough
to avoid those that are not. If things
get tough just come on back as you always have a home here.” Lizzy squeezed Elias’ calloused hand harder
and with tears in her eyes replied, “I will.”
Elias said “Please write often no matter if you do not have much to say
as it will be a comfort to your Mom and me to hear from you.” Maggie concurred with the request and added
“Please keep your clothes clean as you do not want those city folks to think badly
of you.” Maggie then began to cry and then Lizzy began to cry. Elias just sat holding his daughter’s hand
trying not to let the tears flow. After
all he thought, "I am supposed to be the strong one here."
Their waiting was interrupted
by the sound of a train whistle. The
train was not only on time but a little early.
Bill announced to those waiting that as soon as the train stopped they
would load the baggage. Those wanting to
board could do so then and to have their ticket handy for the conductor to
check. Elias, Maggie and Lizzy stood up
still holding hands. They exited out the waiting room through the trackside
door and onto the covered porch facing the train, which was just pulling to a
stop. Elias turned to Lizzy and said
“Well I guess it is time for your adventure to start huh?” Lizzy hugged her
father as hard as she ever had before and said, “I love you Dad.” Elias replied, “I love you too Lizzy no matter
where you go or how smart you get.”
Lizzy turned to her still crying Mom and hugged her tight and whispered
into her ear “I love you too Mom and I will be alright.” Maggie said “I know you are being watched
over by God and you will be alright. I
love you too Elizabeth Carolyn James and don’t you ever forget that.” Just then the conductor startled them all
with a shout of “All aboard. Time to keep on our schedule folks!” With a kiss to both again, Lizzy boarded the
train. She turned right in her car and
then sat down in a seat facing a window and waved. Elias and Maggie both waved, but it was a sad
wave that was returned. The train then
whistled and began a slow roll out of the station. Elias reached over and grasped Maggie’s hand
and both just stood there watching Lizzy’s train depart until it went out of
site around a bend. They stood for several
minutes listening to the train whistle not saying a word until Elias said, “Well
Maggie it is time to head home. She will
be OK. We just need to keep on praying
for her.” Maggie did not say a word as
Elias led her back into the waiting area and through to the parking lot. Snow was just coming down when they headed
back through Winslow and to their farm on the other side of town, never
realizing that they would never see their daughter again.
Elias opened his teary eyes
and his mind came back to the present.
Pulling his pocket watch out he noted that it was 10:05 P.M. He reached into the package he had brought
with him and pulled out the well-worn letter.
Just like he did every year, he unfolded the paper and read the final
chapter of his search for Lizzy. The
envelope was addressed to Mr. and Mrs. Elias James and the return address
listed William Henderson, Private Investigator.
Elias had not wanted to spend the money on a private investigator but
when the Denver police could go no further the detective in charge suggested
that Elias hire one of the local private investigators. Elias and Maggie were
desperate and they had already spent a lot of money traveling back and forth
between Winslow and Denver with nothing to show for their efforts, other than
to collect Lizzy’s baggage that was left at the Denver station. Mr. Henderson was sympathetic to their cause
and did not charge them his normal fee but did ensure that he would expend his
normal effort in trying to locate Lizzy.
Elias’ heart sank each time he read the letter’s subject: “Investigation
of the Disappearance of Elizabeth Carolyn James - Final Report”. Mr. Henderson went on to give his regrets for
not being able to locate Lizzy’s whereabouts before proceeding to relay the few
details he had uncovered about where the trail ended. It seemed that although the conductors of
each train she took that night remembered her, but the final conductor never
recalled seeing her disembark in Denver.
The conductor admitted he had many passengers on that train and could
not possibly keep track of everyone once he had punched their ticket. So the detective could not prove one way or
the other that Lizzy every got off the train. He went on to say that his several
contacts at the railroad produced nothing in the way of spotting Lizzy
anywhere. There were many passengers
moving that day and even with the picture Elias sent, the detective said that
none of his railroad contacts could say for sure that Lizzy was there or
not. Mr. Henderson went on to say that
he personally rode the same route back to Winslow, stopping at every depot and
questioning all ticket agents and baggage handlers. No one indicated that Lizzy exited the train
at any depot between Winslow and Denver.
Mr. Henderson’s final line was the one that brought both Elias and
Maggie to tears when he read it aloud to Maggie the first time. It stated: “I
wish I did not have to say this but it is my opinion, as an investigator of
many years, since your daughter has not tried to contact you since she has
disappeared that she is probably dead.”
Over the years Maggie gave up
hope of finding their daughter alive but Elias held to the dream that one day
she would ride a train back to that depot and come home. Elias’ heart sank with remorse when the rail
line decided that passenger trains would no longer stop at the Winslow depot. Those who ran the depot knew about Elias and
Maggie’s vigils on October 29th and when word came down that the
depot was no longer needed by the Missouri Pacific Railroad, they were some of
the first told the news. Elias still came to the depot even after it closed and
it was not long before he got the idea to buy the property and restore the
depot. Maggie could not stop him as he
always said that was where he felt close to Lizzy again. So she helped him with
his dream to clean up the property and restore the depot to its former
self. She still sat with him every
October 29th on the east bench next to the potbellied stove and held
his hand and cried when 10:20 P.M. came and went.
Elias looked at his watch and
saw it was time. Rising to his feet, he
reached down into the depths of the package and pulled out a bouquet of flowers. Lizzy always liked daisies and Elias never
failed to bring them on this October night.
For the first time that night, the old man unbolted the door to the
platform and stepped out into the elements onto the platform facing the
rails. The wind had died down and snow swirled
around like specks of glitter in a snow globe. Under the bright light of the moon the night
was almost serene. Elias walked to the
spot where he had watched Lizzy enter the passenger car, bent down, and laid
the flowers on the wooden plank.
Straightening back up and with tears in his eye he said to God: “Lord
all these years I have asked you to bring back my daughter to me safe, but it
has not happened. You know everything
that happened that night and I pray she was watched over by your angels. I still trust in you Lord but you know my
heart and you know I miss Lizzy, just as I miss Maggie. Your will be done Lord and please watch my
steps until the day you call me home. In
Jesus name I pray this. Amen.” Pulling his coat tighter around him he looked
down the west bound rail just like he did so many years before and said, “I
sure do miss you Lizzy.”
Turning back, Elias entered
the depot once again and bolted the door behind him. Walking over to the bench he picked up his
package and the letter. He checked the
woodstove one last time and shut the dampers down so the fire would go out on
its own. He turned down the wick on the
oil lamp closest to the stove to extinguish its flame and walked over to the
other oil lamp closest to the door. He
was just about to extinguish the lamp when he heard the whistle of an
approaching train from the west. He knew
it was a late night freight train heading east to deliver its cargo to a much
larger city, but still his heart was wishing that he would hear the sound of
the brakes being applied and that one special passenger would run into his
arms. The whistle grew louder and the
train passed by vibrating the old depot.
Elias sighed and turned the wick down on the lamp putting the old depot
into total darkness. Exiting the depot
he locked the door behind him and carefully descended the steps to the parking
lot. The truck took a little more convincing
to start on this cold evening but it managed to start. Elias headed out the parking lot and through
the gate. Putting the truck into neutral
he stepped to the gate and pulled it closed.
Locking the gate he took one last look at the old depot in the moonlight
and the snow. "Am I wasting my time?", he
thought. "Was Maggie really right? Do I
need to stop this and just face facts?" He had a whole year to think about it and at minimum the
town is at least remembering how this depot was their lifeline to the outside
world for so many years. Getting back
into the truck he appreciated how quick the old girl could warm up on a cold
evening. Elias then steered the truck back
down the old road toward Winslow and then to home.
***
In the spring of the following
year, Elias was found slumped over the ticket agent’s desk inside the
depot. He had just finished giving the
students from Winslow’s Elementary school a guided tour of the depot. After settling the kids on the bus, the chaperone
doubled back into the depot to thank Elias for sharing such a wonderful history
lesson with her class. Upon finding
Elias she contacted the police and an ambulance was dispatched but in the end
Elias could not beat his third heart attack.
News spread quickly throughout Winslow that Elias James had passed away. The local paper not only printed an obituary,
but also featured a very nice article detailing how the life of Elias and
Maggie had persevered after tragically losing Lizzy. In an unprecedented turn of events, the Associated Press picked up the story and
circulated it around the country. The Salt
Creek Colorado Free Press was just one of the hundreds of small-town papers
which printed the feature. It was while perusing this local paper that one of
Salt Creek’s leading historians, Samuel Farber, took notice of the name and the
woman listed as disappearing. Sam took
the paper and headed to the library where the town kept many historical papers
concerning Salt Creek and the surrounding area.
Sam remembered a skeleton discovered by some local hunters in the
fifties a few miles out of town and not far from the old rail line used by the
Missouri Pacific. After several minutes
of digging through old newspapers he came across the story. Sure enough a skeleton was found by hunters
passing through the area. The article
indicated that mostly all the bones were found and after some additional digging
other personal articles were found. No
identification was found with the body, but there were parts of clothes and a
piece or two of jewelry. The local
doctor who examined the bones said they were of a woman. Since the fifties were not known for having
much knowledge in reconstructing the manner of a person’s death, the local
authorities just listed the woman as a Jane Doe and buried her in a local
cemetery, at the town’s expense. The
belongings and other artifacts found with the skeleton were boxed and stored in
the basement of the town’s municipal building.
Sam thought that maybe just maybe this Jane Doe was the James’ daughter Lizzy. He would send the information to the local
authorities in Winslow and if they wanted to follow up on his findings he would
be more than happy to help.
Meanwhile back in Winslow the
town council accepted the Depot from the estate of Elias James. Elias gave the Depot to the
town for as long as the town maintains it as a historical tourist spot. Elias even left sufficient funds to help
Winslow with the upkeep of the depot for many years to come. Winslow responded to this by renaming the
Winslow Train Depot to the Elizabeth James Depot and placed a plaque in front
of the depot. The plaque stated: “This
depot was restored by Elias and Maggie James.
Their never ending quest to remember their daughter’s last days resulted
in the town getting a part of its history back.
The town of Winslow owes a debt of gratitude to the James’ who brought something
special back to life, after losing someone special in life.” Now on every October 29th evening the
old depot is open to all who want to come to remember Elias, Maggie and
Lizzy. The wood stoves are all fired up
and the oil lamps are all lit. Those in
attendance drink hot chocolate provided by the town’s historical society. The baggage storage area is used as a gathering
place for local historians to retell stories of what the old depot meant to the
town when it was in full operation. At
10:20 P.M. all things come to a stop and those in attendance gather under the
rail side porch to place flowers on the wood plank closest to the rail. Then they all say a prayer for the safety of
their own family and God’s guidance in their life.
