The Picnic Train to Franklin
When the rails finally pushed into Black Diamond and Franklin in 1886, a Sunday school outing became a historic moment for Washington Territory's coal country.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
The first passenger coaches over the road from Black Diamond to Franklin carried 300 people at a picnic excursion, under the auspices of the First Baptist Sunday School, on Saturday, May 15th. For several days the continuous rain dampened the ardor of the committee, but the clerk stated on Thursday evening that the 'barometer talked fair,' and, seeing a stray star in the heavens, they took heart again. Saturday smiled pleasantly, and four coaches were filled to overflowing. About 100 children under 16 years of age receiving free tickets for 18 miles and return, while others paid 50 cents and $1. Two horses ran a race with the train, and what, with the 'down brakes' and the watchful engineer, they seemed to be getting the best of it, until one caught a foot in a tree tie, when the train was stopped, the horse rolled off safe and sound, and the train went on. The scenery for the last three miles is the finest we have seen in the country. Green River threads its way along the valley 800 feet below the track, and the steep hill slopes to its very edge. Returning to the hoisting works, the entire excursion was turned into an eating party, after which the mine was explored by a large proportion of the party.
“The barometer talked fair, and, seeing a stray star in the heavens, they took heart again.”
This 1886 excursion captures the early industrial push into the Green River Valley, an area now synonymous with complex logistics and infrastructure. While the Sunday school picnic was a day of celebration, it marks the arrival of the rail networks that would eventually transform the wilderness into the suburban and industrial landscape we know today.
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