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Trust Jesus,Ride Amtrak.
 

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Tornadoes are common in the Midwest and are as dangerous as any other weather related problems. I was on a freight train in Texas headed south one evening, and the sky turned green with a black background as the thunderstorm came out of the west headed in our direction. The green sky was a sure sign of large hail and a possible tornado in the making. The lightning started to crackle and light up the sky. It started raining really hard. The raindrops were as big as my thumb and were traveling horizontally across the windshield of the locomotive from the wind, which blew with such great force. The rain came down so hard and heavy the Engineer and I could not see the front of the locomotive. Then the train dispatcher called on the radio and said for all trains within 20 miles of Valley Junction Yard to stop immediately because there was a tornado on the ground in the area. Valley Junction is about 50 miles south of Waco, Texas and is a distribution point for freight cars. Trains come in and set out sections of cars to be picked up by other trains, which are diverted in four different directions for delivery to other towns.
The wind was estimated to be blowing between 80 mph and 100 mph. We were informed by the dispatcher a tornado had just hit Valley Junction Yard, and the force of the wind had started a string of 21 box cars rolling freely down the tracks. The dispatcher did not know at the time which direction the cars were going and wanted all train movement to stop immediately until he could get more information from the station operator at Valley Junction. About 30 minutes had gone by and we were starting to get a little worried because no one was telling us anything about where those cars were headed. Even though we were stopped, it is not a good feeling knowing a runaway train is coming toward you.
The Engineer and I strained our eyes looking down the track watching for the runaway train. It was pitch dark and even though the rain had slacked off a little, it was still raining so hard we could not see more than 50 yards ahead of our train. We did not know what to do. We had four locomotives on our train. Should we get off the lead locomotive and go to one of the other of 3 locomotives behind us for protection? It would definitely be better to be covered with the 3 front locomotives rather than be sitting on the point when we were slammed into by another train. It could be any minute now that we might have to jump off the locomotive and run for our lives if we did see some cars barreling down on us.
We decided to evacuate and retreat to the rear locomotive where it would be safe. Finally, the train dispatcher called us on the radio and informed us the runaway train was thought to be going in the opposite direction from us. He instructed us to bring our train on down to Valley Junction to look for the cut of 21 empty boxcars that had disappeared from the siding. We started moving our train southward very slowly looking for the unmanned train, which had broken loose and was running to who knows where.
The information the dispatcher had given us was very sketchy and with each and every curve in the rail we were on the edge of our seats staring out the windshield hoping we were not going to have a big surprise awaiting us. When we first stopped the train at the dispatcher's request, we were about 15 miles from Valley Junction. It took us about one hour to make it to our destination of the Junction, but we had not found any cars. As we approached the interlocker where the station operator was waiting for us, we stopped and asked what happened. The station agent said the cut of cars went south out of his sight. We continued on to the south end of Valley Junction yard where we found 3 cars, which had derailed, at the very end of the siding, but the other 18 cars were not in sight.
Apparently, the cars were going so fast they whipped the tail end off the cut of cars so badly it rocked them off the rail. The main track was blocked with the derailed cars, and we could not go any farther. The other 18 cars were found five miles down the track later on that night. The tornado had gone through and made the 21 empty box cars, which had all the doors wide open, start rolling so fast they whipped out of the siding and kept going down the main track (at an estimated speed of about 50 mph), until they finally stopped rolling.
The track we operated on was known as "dark territory" which means there are no signals to tell you when to go or stop. The movement of the train is authorized by your Train Orders, not signal indication. The Train Master lived in Bryan, Texas where the cars were headed and he drove his car out to some of the industrial tracks to throw the switches at the spur tracks in an attempt to derail the cut of cars before they entered town.
The Yardmaster working that night at Valley Junction was pretty shaken up. He was in his office, which was about fifty feet from the tracks that the runaway train was on. The Trainmaster asked him why he didn't go out there and jump on the side of the boxcars and set a hand brake. The Yardmaster told him the cars were going about 50 mph when they came by him, and he was too busy running in the other direction. The cut of cars had traveled about 5 miles and had gone over about 15 road crossings before they finally stopped about 3 or 4 miles before entering the city of Bryan, Texas. No one was injured, but it sure did scare the hell out of a lot of people.