Ken Ingram shares a story with us:
My father, James F. Ingram, was born in Eva, Tennessee, and then
spent his childhood and teenage years alternating between Memphis
and Eva. One summer afternoon in 1934 while "up at Eva",
the year before he graduated from Memphis Technical High School,
my dad and a bunch of his cousins and friends, including first cousin
and best friend Bill Latham, decided to take a walk over the Tennessee
River bridge to Johnsonville. In those days, that was how you got
over there; there was no highway bridge back then. This was the
high point of their youth; very soon would come the struggle to
make a living out of the Great Depression, and all went on to honorable
service during World War II. But this day, they were all together,
and headed for Johnsonville because, quote, "That's where the
girls were", unquote.
Eva was located on the west bank of the Tennessee, and the NC&StL
main line sort of paralleled the river past the town, over a long
elevated rail bed and concrete trestle. This elevated levee, over
which ran the NC&StL main line, was made necessary by annual
flooding of the bottom land on this side of the river. The levee
rail bed "islands" and trestle are still visible above
the waters of Kentucky Lake to this day; plenty of catfish, crappie,
bream, carp and bass caught in the immediate vicinity of the remains
of the concrete trestle. The railroad then made a sweeping curve
to the right and crossed the big river via a long, steel-superstructure
swing bridge, and proceeded more or less straight through Johnsonville
before angling off toward Nashville at Denver. Old Johnsonville
was a considerably larger town than Eva, and offered more in the
way of "entertainment".
Afer
hiking the cross ties and crossing the high trestle came the most
adventurous part of the afternoon - crossing the bridge. If fortunate
enough to miss a train, another adventure might ensue should the
bridge tender decide to open the swing span in order to facilitate
a passing barge tow or steam boat. Last, but certainly not least,
there were no walkways or guardrails. It was cross ties on top of
girders all the way across. With luck, they could make it to Johnsonville,
spend the evening with their female acquaintances, maybe even catch
a film - Johnsonville boasted a movie house, something tiny Eva
would never have.
Well, lady luck wasn't with them that summer afternoon. At about
mid-point of their so-called "walk" across the bridge,
an afternoon timed freight steam locomotive whistle announced imminent
danger. What to do? To a man, they immediately decided to high-tail
it back to Eva! So, hopping ties, off they went. They hadn't got
far when the locomotive entered the bridge structure, causing the
old bridge to rumble. The engineer, seeing these local trespassers
to NC&StL property just ahead of his train, began "laying
it down" on the whistle. Four or five fellows kept hopping
ties in an effort to clear the bridge; my dad and Bill Latham, pulling
up the rear, decided to leap outside the rails to the side of the
bridge, hanging on for dear life between superstructure girders,
realizing that outrunning the train was futile. As Bill relates
the story, "That old engineer shook a mean fist at us as the
locomotive went past. I'll never forget him". Those other fellows
just made it, leaping out of harm's way at the last possible moment.
This anecdotal little yarn, first told to me years ago, kindled
an avid curiosity and interest in an old, long gone railroad for
yours truly. Only too soon, there won't be anyone left to remember
the tales of either Eva before the TVA or the old NC.
--Ken Ingram
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