Come, All You Rounders

Casey Jones mounted to the cabin.

Casey Jones, with his orders in his hand.

Casey Jones mounted to the cabin.

And he took his farewell trip to the promised land.

Last week to the grave in Jackson, Tenn. of John Luther Jones, folk hero of U.S. railroading, went fans from far & wide. The occasion: the 50th anniversary of the murky night when "Casey" Jones* died with his hand on the brake of the Illinois Central's crack Cannonball Express as it plowed into a freight train at Vaughan, Miss.

In Engineer Jones's honor, the Jackson post office put on sale special 3¢ stamps with his picture and that of the locomotive that Casey drove on his last ride. After a parade and concert, aged (76) Sim Webb, who had sat on the fireman's side of the Cannonball Express cab that night, rose and told again how he had jumped to safety before the crash. Casey's widow Janie, eightyish but still perky enough to relish an occasional nip of bourbon, also had her say. She indignantly denied the song lines attributed to her:

". . . Go to bed, children, and hush

your cry'n',

'Cause you've got another papa on the

Salt Lake Line."

In Washington, the safety-conscious Association of American Railroads went much farther; it wanted to discourage people from singing the song, because it perpetuated the memory of a disaster. Hoping to start a different trend, the association mailed out to U.S. editors a new ballad composed by Folk Singer L. Parker ("Pick") Temple on commission from the A.A.R. It sang the fame of Wesley Clark, a conductor on a runaway Arizona logging train last December, who had succeeded in stopping the train after the rest of the crew had jumped:

Wes Clark was just a simple man, but

his heart was brave and true.

With plenty of chance to save his life,

he stayed to see it through.

And though he's been rewarded now

with money and with fame,

His greatest reward is yet to come, for

God will know his name.

Despite these good intentions, Casey Jones's highballing immortality seemed secure.