Railroad Crossing
A train hit a car on a lonely stretch of road in the hill country on a very dark, stormy night.
Public and state agencies demanded a thorough investigation to identify the root cause of the accident. The principle witness for the railroad company was their crossing guard, a man named Clem. His testimony on the witness stand went something like this:
Question: What is your employment obligation with the railroad company?
Clem: There’s no gate, no alarms, just me to keep people from crossing the tracks when there’s a train a’ comin’.
Question: And when is this done?
Clem: Twice a day. Once for the east-bound express in the mornin’ and once at night for the west-bound express.
Question: How does the schedule run for the west-bound train?
Clem: Oh, it’s always right on time - two-o-two in the middle of the night.
Question: And was train number 72 on time in the night in question, the 14th of October last?
Clem: Yep, like always.
Question: And how did you act on that October 14th night?
Clem: Oh, I was right out there with my lantern in plenty of time to warn away any vehicles.
Question: And what specifically did you do?
Clem: I was right out there in the middle of the road, in front of the tracks, wavin’ my lantern back and forth.
Question: Yes, and what happened then?
Clem: This car, it just kept comin’ and I jumped out of the way jest in time - before the train smashed it.
Question: Well, that concludes the case.
Some time later, the investigating body decided to completely exonerate the railroad company.
One of Clem’s buddies noted how enormously relieved he was at the finding, and recalled how very agitated Clem was at the hearing, almost perspiring under the routine, simple questioning.
Clem said, “I was just a-prayin’ the wouldn’t be askin’ me if the lamp was lit.”