Injured.

ADAMS, C.F., Buffalo, N.Y.; left hand injured.
ASCHBELL, JOSEPH S., Evanston, Ill.; ankle smashed.
BEARDSLEE, Mrs., Springfield, Ill.; ankle hurt.
BRADLEY, ALBERT, Toronto, Ontario; left leg broken; afterward amputated below the knee.
BUSHNELL, Mrs. HENRY, Lockport, N.Y.; head injured.
DAVIDSON, EZEKIEL, ex-President of Fairport Village, N.Y.
MONROE, THOMAS J., Auburn, N.Y.
O’BRADY, MAGGIE, Oswego, N.Y.; right leg broken.
ROGERS, FRANK, Woodstock, Ontario; right hand bruised.
SMITH, HARVEY, Fort Plain, N.Y.; both limbs crushed; amputated.
SMITH, Mrs. HARVEY; right leg broken.
SMITH, FRANK, Fort Plain, N.Y.; both limbs crushed; amputated.
SMITH, NELLIE L., Fort Plain, N.Y.; right foot crushed.
SHAKLETON, GEORGE, Auburn, N.Y.; right hand and head injured.
STEWART, JOHN C., Dalton, Ill.; shoulder bruised.
STEWART, JENNIE, daughter of above, eleven years old; left arm broken.
THOMPSON, WILLIAM, Woodstock, Ontario; head injured.
TURNER, FRANK, Middle Smithville, Penn.; injured in the back.
VANCE, Mrs., Simcoe, Canada; both limbs broken.
VANCE, GEORGE, son of above, fourteen years old; bruised.
WILLIAMS, Miss BELLE, Lockport, N.Y.; ankle broken.
WILLIAMS, H.R., Toronto, Ontario; back injured.
WURTZ, FRED, Rochester, N.Y.; left side bruised.
WURTZ, EVELYN, daughter of above; left arm and right collar bone broken.

Direct disobedience of orders on the part of a Chicago and Grand Trunk engineer and conductor, both of whom had seen long service with the company and were regarded as model employees, was the cause of the tragedy.

A Raymond and Whitcomb special train of eight palace cars, filled with Eastern folk who had been taking in the sights of the World’s Fair, left the Sixtieth Street station of the road at Chicago at 8:15 as the first section of the night express, known as No. 6. The train was in charge of Conductor Burt N. Scott and Engineer Harry Woolley, both residents of this place. All went well until the Battle Creek Station was reached. This was at 3:35.

From here to the railroad yards, a distance of a mile and a half, there is a double track. When the Whitcomb Special came to a full stop in the station the night operator handed to Conductor Scott two copies of an order for the train to proceed to the double track east of Main Street, about half a mile distant, and there await the west bound Pacific Express, known as No. 9.

This train, which was nearly three hours late, was composed of thirteen day coaches and two baggage cars. Most of the day coaches had seen many years service and were in poor condition to withstand a collision. Every one of the fated number was packed with Eastern people, the majority of whom, taking advantage of the low rates, were on their way to take in the last week of the exposition.

The Pacific Express was in charge of Conductor John Bird and Engineer G. Cranshaw, both of whom had received orders at Lansing to look out for the west bound train on the double track, and were accordingly on the alert.

After receiving orders at the Battle Creek Station Engineer Woolley proceeded up the double track, but instead of stopping, in accordance with his instructions, until the west-bound express had passed he continued on and entered again on the single track. He had hardly gone more than an eighth of a mile when the headlight of the Pacific Express was seen coming around the slight curve behind the telegraph office of the railroad yards. It was speeding westward at the rate of forty miles an hour.

There was no time to apply airbrakes or reverse levers. The engineers and firemen of both trains jumped for their lives, and a second later the giant locomotives came together with a crash that could be heard a half a mile away.

With fearful force the engine of the special plowed nearly half way into that of the express, driving it backward into the baggage car, and the latter in turn into the day coaches behind.

The shock was so terrific that the first four of these were completely telescoped, the first coach cutting through the second, and the second driving into the third like a flash of lightning, the roof of each passing over the heads of the sleeping passengers and sweeping in a mass to the north end of the car.

To add to the horror, the wreck took fire from the stoves or lamps, and as the flames mounted up the groans and shrieks of the maimed and injured were succeeded by heartrending agonizing cries and appeals for help from the scores imprisoned by heavy timbers or held down by the seats and iron framework.

The New York Times, New York, NY 21 Oct 1893