Kate Shelly Saved the Train.

When Michael Shelly died in 1878, he left behind a widow and 5 children. The oldest was 12. He also left a cottage by the railroad track and a small pension from the Chicago and Northwestern Railroad.

The train tracks ran directly in front of the Shelly house, which was on a V-shaped tongue of land. One side of the farm was bounded by Honey Creek, which ran 1.5kms down to the point where it joined the larger Des Moines River. The train coming from the east would first cross a wooden bridge over Honey Creek, go past the Shelley house and another 1.5kms farther, cross the Des Moines River on a much longer bridge, and so on through the village of Moingona.

Three years after Michael Shelly died, on July 6, 1881, there was a massive storm. All afternoon the creek kept raising. Even when darkness began to fall, there was no indication that the storm was finished. Vivid flashes of lightening showed a dark-brown flood of water rushing past the house and under the railway bridge. Kate, the oldest girl took a lantern and went down to the stable and let the cows and horses go, incase the water washed the building away.

Bedtime came for the younger children, but 15-year-old Kate and her mother stayed and watched. Flashes of lightening showed fence posts, boards and even large trees being washed down the river. Now and then one of the trees would strike the bridge trestles and the bridge would tremble violently. How long could the bridge stand the strain?

At eleven o’clock they heard a rumbling noise coming from the east. Peering out the window they saw a light in the distance. A flash of lightening revealed a single engine slowly drawing over the Honey Creek Bridge. Even over the roar of the storm, Kate and her mother heard the engine bell ringing. Suddenly there was a terrible crash, a gurgle, and the hiss of escaping steam. The bridge had collapsed, dropping the engine into the flood. Kate knew every engineer and fireman on this section of the railroad. Who was driving that engine that had fallen in the river?

               “Mother I must go and help them!” she exclaimed.

               “No, no, Kate. What could you do in such a storm? You would be washed away also.”

               “But mother, it isn’t just those men. The midnight express will pass through Moingona and on across the Des Moines River bridge and it will go into Honey Creek with all its passengers. Don’t you see I must go? How can we stand here and watch a whole trainload of people plunge into the river?

Kate pulled on her coat, lit the lantern, and started to walk into the storm. The whole family was awake by this time, and they looked at her fearfully as she went out the door. She first walked to the stream below the broken bridge and called out loudly and was thrilled when she heard voices calling back to her. She latter learned that when the engine plunged into the stream, they were swept downstream to some trees that normally would have been on dry land.

Kate next walked the 1.5km to where the railroad track crossed the Des Moines River. This bridge was 170metres long. The idea of crossing it in daylight would have been frightening enough for Kate, for there were no railings along the sides, and the middle plank had been removed to stop people using it as a crossing. But now she had to do it at night in a storm. The thought of the approaching train and what would happen to it if she did not cross made her determined to go forward, despite the darkness, rain, and storm.

Scarcely had she gone a few metres when an extra strong blast of wind blew out her lantern and almost knocked her off the bridge. She stood there petrified as she heard the rushing river beneath her. With no light, her only option now was to crawl on hands and knees from sleeper to sleeper. Another fear gripped her. It must be nearly midnight. The train would not stop at Moingona. Suppose it came across the bridge she was trying to cross? Kate prayed, and later said she felt guided by a power higher than her own.

After what seemed like hours, Kate at last realized there was earth beneath the railway sleepers. She thanked God and hurried on to the station. Running, stumbling, hands and knees bleeding, face streaked with mud, but in the distance, she saw the tiny light of the station. With her last ounce of strength, she pushed open the door and tottered into the room. The agent was startled.

“Why, Kate Shelly, what are you doing here at this hour?”

               “Stop the train, Stop the train! She gasped. “Oh, please stop the train!”

“Girl, where have you come from? What do you mean?  Why should we stop the express?”

“The bridge is out over Honey Creek.”

“Girl you are crazy!”

“I’m not crazy. Mother and I saw the Engine plunge into the river. Oh, please, please believe me!”

At last, the station agent understood that something had really happened to the bridge. He grabbed a red lantern and dashed outside just as an engine whistle in the distance told him the express was near. Standing in the middle of the track, he swung the lantern to and fro. The express slowed down, and just before it reached him, the agent leapt from the track. When the train finally stopped the engineer climbed down out of his cab ready to tell the station master off. The passengers began to pile out of the cars and gather around the group on the platform.

               “What’s the meaning of this?” the conductor demanded, looking straight at the agent.

               “Ask the girl here. Kate Shelly will tell you.”

They turned to Kate, and a torrent of words told the story. Her listeners were electrified. Men cheered, women wept, many of the passengers threw their arms around Kate and hugged and kissed her. One man brought a hat and passed it around among the passengers and into it went handfuls of silver and paper money. Kate saved about 300 people that night.

But Kate had not forgotten the men still waiting in Honey Creek. The engine of the express was uncoupled, and Kate and some of the men rod in the cab across the Des Moines River to the edge of Honey Creek. The Engineer and fireman had nearly given up hope of rescue but were still clinging to the tree. A rope was thrown and after several attempts was caught and they pulled themselves ashore hand over hand.

Kate became famous all over America. Hundreds of letters poured in. Generous people sent gifts, and the mortgage of the little cottage was paid off. From her home state of Iowa, Kate received a gift of $200 and a gold medal, on which she was praised for her courage and heroism. When people wanted to praise Kate she would simply say, “I did only what I had to do.”