Nellie Bly
The New York World/January 24, 1890
Nellie Bly’s Story of the Fastest Railroading on Record
My seventieth day and still on the fly. Two more days and I will be in New York, barring accident, and this means everything—success or failure. My reception at Albuquerque last night was something in the nature of an ovation. I cannot soon forget it. Mayor Meybert, a most agreeable gentleman, and the Councilmen came first into the car and shook hands: then a long procession of ladies followed, some of whom presented me with a beautiful basket of flowers. A bouquet was handed to me with a card attached having the following inscription: “To Nellie Bly with the best wishes of Mrs. Joseph C. Kuhns for the successful termination of her long journey. Albuquerque, Jan. 22, 1890.”
At Albuquerque I passed from the hands of the Atlantic and Pacific road into the care of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe. Division Supts. Charles Dyer and H. A. Mudge, who came on the train, told me the Atchison intended to put me through to Chicago as quickly as the engines could carry the train. In two minutes from the moment we stopped at Albuquerque station the Atchison engine had us coupled on, and we were whirling towards Wallace, with forty to fifty astonished visitors on board. Somebody pulled the bell cord, and the train stopped long enough to let some of the visitors off. Miss Montfort and Mr. E. A. Fair and a boy were still on the car when it resumed running, and came with us to Wallace. The riding last night was over mountains, first across the Glorietta range and a spur of the Rockies and then across the Raton range and past the famous Maxwell tract, which has been long in dispute in the courts. The grant has many romantic stories connected with it. Thousands and thousands of dollars have been sunk in it in one way and another.
We averaged forty miles an hour in passing over the 345 miles between Albuquerque and La Junta, and twice we were at an elevation of over 7,000 feet. The road is full of sharp curves, around which we whizzed in a hair-raising way, but I was asleep at midnight and passed through all the alarming phases of the ride while in dreamland. We went through Las Vegas, N. M., about 1 A.M., and crossed the Colorado line at 3.50 A. M. At 4.30 we passed the enterprising town of Trinidad: at 7.45 A.M. La Junta was reached. I was still abed, but I heard the talk of the crowd at the depot, and several inquiries for me reached my ears.
The Santa Fe road is not losing any time with us. Engines are ready at every point and no sooner does one uncouple than another, quick as thought, almost, is in its place and fast as lightning we are away again. A little after 8 o’clock we crossed the Kansas line and at 8.30 were at Coolidge. Here orders were given to exceed the limit of fifty miles per hour placed upon our speed in the first instructions. There were points between Lakin and Dodge City at which we were running fifty-five to sixty-five miles an hour. Between Pierceville and Cimmarron, nineteen miles, the running time was seventeen minutes—more than a mile a minute. The engineer in whose care we were at this time is L. H. Weir, one of the best men on the Santa Fe system. From Larkin to Dodge City, sixty-nine miles, we ran in fifty-one minutes, and the entire distance from La Junta to Dodge City, 103 miles, was made in three hours and forty-three minutes.
I received the following telegram this morning:
“Denver. Col., 22.
“Nellie Bly:
“Good luck to Nellie Bly. May you have a safe and rapid journey along the Arkansas River, the old, historic trail of Coronado centuries ago where Zebulon Pike and his brave explorers marched over eighty years ago, and where Kit Carson made his first trip over the old Santa Fe trail in 1826. Great interest in Denver over your race against time. Again good luck to you, Nellie Bly.
Will C. Ferrill.”
Dodge City gave me a rousing reception. At the station, where over 300 citizens gathered, we had but a minute to stop, but the Mayor of Dodge City and several newspaper men came into the car and the Mayor presented on behalf of the citizens two documents—one an expression of the citizens’ wishes, the other a poetic tribute from the same source. I give both. Here is the prose:
“Vim, enterprise, phenomenal activity and high courage unite in the person of Miss Nellie Bly, the swift messenger of the New York World now passing through our city on her wonderful journey around the world. Her success we believe is already assured. Her fair woman leads and man follows; that the earth is none too large for woman’s conquest: that whether the earth moves or not civilization advances, mankind progresses, and Nellie Bly is a synonym for success and happy achievements. The people of Dodge City, one of the cities somewhere on the earth, join the procession, toss up their hats and cry “Godspeed.”
R. W. Evans, Mayor.
I must not forget about Laredo. I was received there with cheers by several hundred men, who asked me when I expected to be in New York, and when I told them I would be there Saturday they swung their hats and hurrahed right heartily. One man shouted: “We’re glad you came through Kansas. We held off a storm to let you through all right.” The Kansans are good-hearted people. Their souls shine in their faces. It made my heart bound to see the manifest pleasure they had in my success. I knew when they said they were glad to find me several days ahead of my time they meant it. My reception at Dodge City prepared me for the series of cordial greetings I received all along the Santa Fe road. I was sorry that my stay in their bright-looking towns was so very short. The readers of The World will appreciate how little time I had anywhere when they are told that from Garden City, Kan., we ran 250 miles in 250 minutes, and this, too, through important towns like Dodge City, Larned, Lickerson, Hutchison, Newton, Peabody and Florence, at each of which there was a popular demonstration.
Why, at one place (I forget now which) I was told everybody in the town was at the depot to see me. I met many ladies in the large gathering at Hutchison. Three ladies came on the train and rode with me to Newton. Two dozen more would have come had they known they would be welcome. Here we had a hot dinner from one of Fred Harvey’s thirty-two eating-houses along the Santa Fe line. These dining and lunch rooms extend from Kansas City to San Francisco, and Mr. Harvey has a reputation for setting as fine a meal in the desert parts of Arizona as he does in the largest town on the line. He has built up his wonderful business in twelve years.
At Florence there was in the crowd that came to the depot to see me an old sea captain. Thomas Morrison, who said he loved the deep so well that he had to live this far inland to keep off the water. He stood with some ladies on the track at the rear platform of my car, and after asking about my health and how I enjoyed my trip, he told me that he had been around the world six times, but had never made the circuit so quickly as I was making it. He had gone from London to Melbourne in sixty-two days once, and had steamed 429 miles in twenty-four hours on a certain occasion. He wished me a safe return, and joined the cheers as the train moved out.
Some stations we passed at full speed held crowds, who waved their hats and huzzahed as the train went by. At Emporia more than three thousand people were at the depot. Here Division-Supt. Nickerson, who had accompanied us from Larned, left us, and Division-Supt. F. A. Burgess came on to take us to Kansas City. Almost before the train stopped a dozen newspaper men were in the car. I was in the clutches of the interviewer. Interviewing and being interviewed are two different things, I have found this out. The experience, though, is not unpleasant. A basket of flowers was presented to me by the editor of the Emporia News-Democrat, Mr. J. F. O’Connor. The presentation was made on the platform in the presence of the people, and you should have heard them shout. They cheered till my ears rang. Some ladies came into the car, among them Miss Hattie Eskridge, daughter of ex-Lieut.-Gov. C. V. Eskridge. The crowds along the line became so great that I almost lost sight of the time made between stations, and it was dusk before I knew it. At Topeka I found an enormous gathering. There were over six thousand people, and many of them did not wait for the train to stop, but climbed into the car. I met the newspaper men first and then at the request of several citizens of Topeka, who had ladies in the gathering. I went to the rear platform and faced the crowd. The minutes cannot pass quickly enough for me now. I want to see New York.
I carried with me from Topeka a fragrant souvenir which contained fresh-cut flowers and a card of the donor, Mrs. H. W. Roby, a resident of the Kansas capital. I forgot to say that at Emporia Mr. F. A. Burgess, Superintendent of the Eastern Division of the Santa Fe, and Mr. George W. Smith, master mechanic of the same division, took charge of us, and with Conductor Dunbar kept up the record for fast running. The 128 miles from Emporia to Kansas City were made in two hours and a half. Think of it! All day long we have been whirled along at the amazing average speed of a mile a minute. Often we traveled faster. From Garden City we ran fifty-nine miles in fifty-three minutes. Once we ran thirteen miles in eleven minutes between Topeka and Kansas City. We ran one mile in fifty-three seconds and twenty-six miles in twenty-four minutes. I am told on the quiet that the Santa Fe people are emulating my round-the-world tour and are trying to break the records. Heretofore the trip made by President Strong, of the Santa Fe system, has stood unequaled, but Mr. Strong’s ride, the railroad men tell me, was slow compared with mine.
The ride of 2,566 miles from the Pacific coast has been made in sixty-nine and one-half hours. It is the fastest trip, I am informed, that has yet been made for this distance. We did not go to the Union Depot, Kansas City. It would lose us half an hour. We continued right along on the Belt line and passed the Grand Avenue Station at 7.40 P. M. This station is in the outskirts of the city. A dozen newspaper men who had accompanied us from Topeka left the car at this point, and in ten minutes we were rolling towards Chicago, and I was telling my story for the Sunday World to a stenographer and type writer, who will have it ready when I reach New York. The day passed as quickly as the train. The people everywhere made it so pleasant for me that my progress through Kansas was really a triumphal march.
The Archive 