Wilson Casey - Bedlam on the West Virginia Rails: The Last Train Bandit Tells his True Tale

Published by The History Press

Charleston, SC 29403

www.historypress.net

Copyright 2015 by Wilson Casey

All rights reserved

First published 2015

e-book edition 2015

ISBN 978.1.62585.426.1

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014958800

print edition ISBN 978.1.62619.893.7

Notice: The information in this book is true and complete to the best of our knowledge. It is offered without guarantee on the part of the author or The History Press. The author and The History Press disclaim all liability in connection with the use of this book.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever without prior written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

To my daughter, Colleen Adaire Casey, the possessor of great fortitudeyou are my heart.

Contents

Preface

He never meant to rob a moving train.

His name was Luman RamsdellLu for short. He lived eighty-six years, died in 2012 and was only twenty-three at the time of the train robbery. He grew up in Youngstown, Ohioa Little Chicago, he called it. His father died when he was two. His mother loved him unconditionally. He never grew up worrying about his future. Lu had no brothers to worship or sisters to tolerate.

In 1949, as former convicts, he and a fellow bandit boarded the Ambassador, a Baltimore & Ohio (B&O) passenger train heading from Washington, D.C., to Detroit. The 2-man gang (although other accounts thought it was more like 4 to 6 bandits) took over the train and terrorized 147 passengers and crew as it left Martinsburg, West Virginia. The armed robberies, massive manhunt and police shootout shocked our nation. The events were readily compared to Jesse Jamess capers of the Wild West in the 1870s. It was national headline news. It really happened.

The first time I saw Lu in the present day (2009), I said to myself, Boy, thats one weird character. A first impression he did not makecertainly not a good one. His shoulder-length silver hair, matched with an unkempt white beard, aroused a certain eeriness. A rowdy moustache was lost inside his teeming facial hair. He was dressed in dark clothing, with a six-foot frame not humped down from years of wear and tear; instead, his good posture resembled that of a person many decades younger. He wore a dark Trento Borsalino, a five-point ivy cap with a sewn bill.

As a professional entertainer and speaker, I compile a daily trivia column for numerous nationwide newspapers. Being labeled the Trivia Guy, I provide emceeing fun and upbeat entertainment for many varied groups, civic organizations, churches, pubs and conventionsanywhere theres an eager audience. I mainly play trivia with them. During these times, curiosity seekers are always coming up to me asking trivia questions, probing thoughts and whys. Its a common routine before, during and after my engagements. The folks are inquisitive and simply want to know more about such and such that I asked or talked about. That continual public interaction keeps my crafted skills honed. I enjoy what I do. My act enthuses audience members and shows that Im personable. I do get to meet a lot of smart, interesting people.

Im good at noticing faces in the crowd, especially reoccurring ones who follow my gigs. Lu always seemed to be in the background, loping around in the audience. He was a loner among the other patrons, but at breaks or after my sets, hed often approach me. Thats how I first met him. It was usually when I was packing up speakers, cords and equipment. He was persistent, gig after gig. Hed keep asking me the same question: Who was Americas last moving train robber?

Again, while emceeing various trivia functions, Ive gotten used to people coming up to me asking trivia questions, but Lu kept asking me the same question over and over. That went on for several weeks. I kept giving him the same answer: It was Jesse James or Butch Cassidythats what the history books say. I didnt brush him off, nor was I rude to him, but I was seriously wondering why he was fixated on that same topic. Why in the world does he keep asking me this?

One particular time, I had a reading at a local writers project, and there was Lu again. He was seated in the audience about twenty feet from the podium. After my presentation and as I was leaving the stage, he approached me with that same question: Who was Americas last moving train robber? There was no small talk from him. Hed get straight to the point, and from my research and trained memory, I again gave him the same answer: Jesse James and his gang or possibly Butch Cassidy. I was accustomed to him warmly smirking and walking away, but this time it was different. He didnt walk away. He stayed right with me, in front of me. Lu calmly said, No, it wasnt.

What? I questioned.

He stated sincerely and reverently, No, it wasnt. Then a short pause as he made stronger, more direct eye contact. It was me. His look was deep and penetrating. His tone of voice was sincere. Five seconds passed.

I said, What? A quiet hush came over me. I wrinkled my brow. I frowned out of the right corner of my mouth. I looked into his eyes. I was trying to stare him down.

Again he said, It was me.

It was a profoundly unsettling experience. I thought to myself, What can he be talking about? Whos he kidding? Why does he keep asking me that same question over and over? Does he suffer from Alzheimers? Does he realize his repetitiveness? This time, I was ready to pursue. I wanted to put closure to his persistence. I had answered his question; hes very old and just mixed up. I should be nice to him and move on. He didnt move away, nor did I.

Lu was carrying a stuffed bag with him. It was an old makeshift sack with cloth handles. Then he started reaching in and pulling out papers, some wrinkled, some folded. It was a thick 3- to 4-inch collection of photocopied clippings, some larger than the standard 8 by 11. He handed me some. I took a number of them in both hands and started opening them up. I quickly started perusing. In astonishment, I was raising my brows and widening my eyes.

From Lus collection of newspapers I was seeing headline after headlineTrain RobberyJesse Jameslike BanditsMugging Passengers People RobbedStealing Getaway CarsMassive Manhunt Shootout with PoliceLast Rites5 Blocks from White House, etc.

I was frozen in disbelief! To my utter surprise, he had handed me flamboyant national headlines and articles from 1949 newspapers. They all featured this B&O train robbery. It was national news! I was still dazed in that he had just told me it was him who pulled off the robbery. This guy was the mastermind, the leader, the notorious criminal, the man who stopped and robbed a moving train. Here I am in conversation not three feet from the 1949 head bandit himself.

Trying to gather my coolness, I questioned Lu again, What?How can all this be about you? He never answered. He was too busy pulling out more and more photocopied clippings from his bag. Thinking again to myself, Could this have happened? Is this the guy? Why is he telling me?

I steadily gazed at the headlines of more of the papers he presented. They were from newspapers all across the country. He had a dozen or so photocopies with him. Paper after paper, all talking about the same shocking story, even the 1949