Milford History Online

On October 1, 1927, four travelers died in Milford when their Chevy sedan was carried 500 feet by an oncoming train at Richardson’s Crossing. In a bizarre twist, it seems the driver of the car was distracted by the wreckage of yet another automobile accident that had taken place in the same spot the previous week.  

Perhaps no place was more dangerous in the early 20th century than on the road, particularly if that road crossed railroad tracks. Driving in automobiles — unsafe at any speed — passengers sat in cabins full of protruding sharp gadgets and windshields made of real glass — and of course, without seatbelts. Automobiles had also quickly outpaced the primitive road and traffic infrastructure that existed at the time.  

The events surrounding Richardson’s Crossing (where Old Wilton Road meets Elm Street today) in the fall of 1927 were so absurd that they might have been comic — if they hadn’t been so tragic for those involved. At this railroad crossing at which eight fatalities took place within three years, 26-year-old William Tully’s pine logging truck was hit by a locomotive on September 21. The passenger train involved could only stop when signaled and was racing about seven minutes late when it plowed into the Mack truck, tossing logs 75 feet and lifting the front end of the locomotive into the air. The ambulance was delayed when a driver couldn’t be found and Tully died at the scene. 

That was bad enough but what happened the following Sunday was downright freakish. Apparently Tully’s mangled car was still sitting in the same spot ten days later when Louis Jordan and his party of four drove through Milford on their way from Jamaica Plain to a weekend in South Lyndeboro. Jordan was reportedly distracted by the site of the twisted automobile and stopped on the tracks as a freight train traveling at speed bore down on the car — whistle blasting but with no way to halt. Louis’s wife Margaret and passenger Cora Getchel were killed instantly, while Jordan and family friend Margaret Fitzgerald died three hours later at St. Joseph’s. Even after these two crashes, more chaos ensued. Police officers struggled to keep rubberneckers at bay throughout Sunday, resulting in at least two more collisions, thankfully not fatal. 

Such were the wild early days of automobiles.