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Part 1 of 2 WGM's Train Ride to Burnt Corn, Alabama on a 4-4-0 American

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As the Direct debit membership and professional development stock and credit administrator as well as the official Bin Man for the, "Worlds Greatest Modeler" here is a tale of the WGMs wife's Great, Great, Great Aunt Agnes, her Uncle Andre, and the ghost that inhabited his Mother-in-law's (Theodosia) and father-in-Laws (Zachariah) farmhouse.

Part 1 of 2.

A Train Trip to Burnt Corn

Copyright 05-20-2012 by RFL

My name is Andre (Frog Eye) Booker. And I used to travel from Muck City, Alabama to Burnt Corn Alabama on the old Tuscumbia Railway, a distance of twenty-five miles. There was one stop, named Pumpkin Center and it was just one and half miles before Burnt Corn. Sometime we would stop there and sometime not. It was an old, run down, and dingy station. It was always a mystery to me why this station was still in use and not shut down.

I enjoyed riding that old 4-4-0 American. It pulled three passenger cars. One was a Combine and the other two were Coaches. I always rode in the Combine because it was usually empty and I had my choice of seats. I made the weekly trip to
visit a young lady who would later become my wife. Her name was Agnes and she lived outside of Burnt Corn in a farmhouse with her parents and sister. Her parents were planning a big open house to announce our engagement and also for all the family and friends to come and meet me.

The first few days were just terrific; lots of food, fun, games and sightseeing in the nearby Sleeping Giant Mountains. On the first day, Agnes and I were sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee while the other folks were outside playing in a creek that ran on the North side of the property, between a big stand of live oaks and the train tracks. I heard a noise and saw the stove door had banged open all by itself. Agnes got up and closed the oven door. A little while later the stove door banged open again. Agnes again got up and closed it then left the kitchen for a few minutes. I got up and looked to see if the stove door was loose. I checked the hindges and they were a little rusty. I tried to open the door but it was very hard to pull open. It did not happen again and I went out to join Agnes.

For the sleeping arrangements the bedrooms were used for the ladies and older folks. So the rest of us slept on sofas and sleeping bags, etc. Im tall about 64 and slept on a pallet on the floor about five feet from the piano. I was awoken in the early morning hours, to the sound of a piano playing what sounded like Ive Been Working On The Railroad. I figured it may have been a dream and went back to sleep.

The next night the piano woke me up again and was playing much louder. When I sat up I did not see anyone playing, just an empty bench seat. And to me it looked like the keys were moving. The piano was not one of those player type pianos but a big square Grand Piano Called a Box Grand. It was beautifully made of heavy brown antique mahogany wood with four large stubby legs. It must have weighed a ton.

The next day I asked Agnes about the piano. She thought she had told me about their ghost. She said that it was just her great Aunt Virginia trying to get attention and to pay her no mind, she's harmless.

When I questioned Agnes about her Aunt Virginia she said it was a very long and sad story. She promised that on my next trip she would tell me all about it.

As the Direct debit membership and professional development stock and credit administrator as well as the official Bin Man for the, WGM. I guess youll just have to wait for the next installment to find out about Aunt Virginia and how she became a ghost.

End of part 1 of 2.

See ya
Ron

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