(Transcribed by TurboScribe.ai. Go Unlimited to remove this message.) Night has fallen, and the moon is a glowing golden orb in the black sky. See how it shines on the dark back roads of America, and on one road in particular. Come with us, and we'll take a walk down the moonlit road, for the night is waiting. And the moon is full. The Moonlit Road presents, episode 52, The Mako Light. Written by Craig Dominey and Jim McCamus, and told by Jim McCamus. Oh boy!
In the years immediately following the Civil War, the railroad was king. And if the railroad was king, its prince was the conductor. Now the engineer, he might have got to sit up front. He might have got to blow the whistle and drive the train. But he was not going to move that train one inch, until the conductor told him to. Now Joe Baldwin, he had always wanted to be a conductor. And finally he realized his life long dream. He was conductor on the Wilmington to Manchester line.
Now Joe would appear at work every morning, smartly turned out in his clean pressed black pants, starched white shirt, black leather vest, and expertly tied bow tie. And on top of his head, was the conductor's hat. With the medallion on the front, that just glistened gold in the sunlight, said conductor. He always carried his lantern with him, a ticket punch, and of course his railroad watch. Because it was with that watch, that Joe Baldwin made his train run on time.
Now Joe Baldwin took very good care of his trains. His train was very important to him. Several times during a run, he would walk from one end of that train to the other. Checking everything he could think of. Checking the wheels, checking the box cars to make sure that they were locked securely. Making sure that the passengers had everything that they needed. Making sure that there was enough oil in the lamps, so that they wouldn't burn out at night.
One night, as they were traveling through the swamps and the woodlands there around Mako, not too far from Wilmington, Joe had just completed a round of his train and was back in the caboose resting. Oh, he couldn't wait to get to Charleston. Because he knew that there in Charleston would be waiting some fried chicken and some sweet potato pie. Oh, how he loved them. And how he loved Charleston. And the water. Suddenly he became aware of something. Something wasn't right.
The train was slowing down. Wasn't time for a stop. Joe Baldwin jumped up and ran to the front of the caboose and threw open the door and stepped out on the landing and went to step into the next coach. But there was no next coach. Somehow the train had become uncoupled and his caboose had been left behind and somewhere out in front, off in the darkness, his beloved train, the train that he took so much care of, was gone. And here he was in this caboose. And it was slowing down.
And Joe knew he was in trouble. Because right behind his train was a fast freight. He ran to the rear landing and looked out through the rain and into the fog and trying desperately to see the train. Before long he saw, way off in the distance, just a pinpoint of light. He knew that had to be the following freight. So he started waving his lantern. The light got bigger. He could almost hear the locomotive.
And he started waving his lantern wilder and wilder from side to side and he started to holler, Hey! Hey! Stop! Hey! And waved his lantern back and forth, knowing there was no way the engineer could hear him, but hoping against hope that he would hear or see. The light continued to grow and then he heard the sound. The sound of the whoosh of the air brakes. Then the sound of the locomotive going into reverse and the wheels spinning on the track.
He saw the sparks flying off either side of the track as the train tried desperately to stop. It was like some great surreal Fourth of July display. And that was the last thing Joe Baldwin ever saw. Because the train smashed into the caboose and splintered it into a million pieces. Soon, there was no sound in those swampy woods except for the steam escaping from the locomotive. And there was no light except for the light from Joe Baldwin's lantern that had been thrown way deep in the swamp.
And it lay there burning in the dark, deep swamp. The next morning, people came to search the wreckage and they found Joe. He had been killed. But worse than that, not only had Joe lost his train, Joe had lost his head. The crash had been so severe that Joe Baldwin's head had been severed from his body and thrown out into the swamp. Look as they might, and they did look for days, they never did find his head.
They found his lantern, where he had laid burning all night, still warm to the touch, but no head. So they carried Joe home and they buried him without his head. A few weeks later, the stationmaster at Maco stepped out onto the platform. It was a dark night, it had been raining, it was foggy, and he looked off down the tracks and he saw a little pinpoint of light. Checked his watch and realized it was way too early for the next train.
The light kept moving down the tracks, looked almost as though it were someone carrying a lantern. And then it started to swing back and forth, slowly at first, and then as it got closer and closer to the station, it swung further and swung wilder. And then it seemed to turn and go back down the tracks until it disappeared. Stationmaster didn't know what to make of that, but he didn't think too much about it until it kept happening.
Nearly every time there would be a dark and stormy night, especially a lot of fog on that part of North Carolina, that light would come back. Start off way down the tracks, just a tiny point, moving up the tracks and start swinging slowly, and then swing wilder and wilder until it got close to the station, and then it was as though it would turn and go back down the tracks. Stationmaster wasn't the only one that saw it. Engineers saw it, and they would stop the trains.
It became such a problem that finally in the Mako block, they instituted a special rule for that railroad that in that particular block, any signals to any train had to be done with two lights, and any one-light signals were to be ignored. People came from all over to see what had come to be called the Mako Light. People came to study the Mako Light. Now, some folks said that it was bald lightning or St. Elmo's fire. Others said, no, it's swamp gas.
But everybody that lived around that part, they knew what it was. They knew it was Joe Baldwin coming back to look for his head. Now, in 1977, the railroad shut down that line, tore up the tracks. When the tracks left, so did the light. It never reappeared. And whether Joe Baldwin found his head or found some other measure of peace, that's the last anyone ever saw of the Mako Light. That concludes this tale from The Moonlit Road. Be sure to visit our website at themoonlitroad
.com to find out more about our stories and let us know how we're doing. The Moonlit Road is produced and directed by Craig Dominey, recorded and soundscaped by Henry Howard in beautiful Stone Mountain, Georgia. Thanks for listening, and we'll see you next time.