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The No. 25, with some 30 to 40 passengers, mostly men, with a handful of women and children, departed Spokane and went through Wenatchee on its way to Seattle. Trains had been traveling this route since 1893, when the route over the mountains was completed. Arriving at Leavenworth on Feb. 22, the No. 25 stopped for 10 hours. Between here and Stevens Pass, no convenient places existed for the train to stop. "The blizzard had already started at this point. It had been going on for a day or so," says Pettit.
Usually, winter storms lasted for a couple of days and tracks could be cleared. Until this time, no trains had been delayed more than 24 hours while crossing the mountains. Now, small avalanches had already slid across the tracks in the Cascades, and the No. 25 waited for the tracks to be opened.
Eventually, the train steamed its way high into the mountains, reaching the east side of the Cascade Tunnel. A Great Northern mail train followed the No. 25 a few hours later. Due to track clearing work ahead and new avalanches behind, the trains were again held up, this time for a day and a half. Finally, the trains proceeded through the tunnel and stopped just beyond the western portal at Wellington, a small depot. Sidetracks allowed the No. 25 and the mail to pull alongside each other. Wellington had a small dorm for the train workers and other buildings. "Normally, passengers didn't get out for any reason," says Pettit. Everyone expected the storm to subside soon.
"People were just hanging out. They didn't get too worried," Pettit says. "The slope up above Wellington is a fairly low-angle slope, twenty or twenty-five degrees. Not one that you would get too concerned about avalanche-wise. There had been no knowledge of any avalanche happening there."
At this point, accounts of the situation tend to disagree. Pettit says that she is telling the story that she has heard most often, but admits that it might be tilted towards putting her grandfather in a more prominent role and favorable light.
As the storm continued to rage, concern amplified, and debates ensued about where to leave the trains: at Wellington, with its buildings where people could eat, or in the tunnel, where people would be safe from any direct avalanche hit. Passengers learned of an avalanche that had wiped out a cook's shack on the east side of the tunnel, where the trains recently had been parked. The cook and his assistant did not survive.
Train officials expressed concern about avalanches sealing off the tunnel, as well as smoke asphyxiation from the steam locomotives. The decision was made to leave the trains where they stood, at Wellington. No avalanche had been seen in that spot before.
"The blizzard wasn't stopping," Pettit continues. "They'd just get the track cleared before another avalanche would go down in front." A rotary plow was trapped between two slides with no coal. As days passed, some train men hiked out to Scenic, quitting their jobs, while others went to fetch supplies. A few passengers left.
Joseph Pettit made the trek with a group of passengers to Scenic, about 4 miles away– not a trivial journey in deep snow, with a blizzard raging and high avalanche risk. Pettit turned back, bringing supplies to Wellington. He planned to stay the night there, the sixth night the trains were on the mountain, and hike out again in the morning with as many additional passengers as could be convinced to make the trip.
That night, snow changed to rain, and ominous clouds exploded with lightning. Early on March 1, a huge slab broke free on the mountain above Wellington. The avalanche, a quarter mile wide, swept the trains into the ravine below. Ninety-six people lost their lives.
Image: The Wellington Avalanche swept two trains into a ravine below the tracks. Photo: Asahel Curtis - UW Libraries Special Collections
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