L & N at the Depot in Broughton

An eerie silence hangs aloft Where the L&N once ran, The sleek black coaches pulled by steam Will never run again.

The tracks where once her drivers ran are now in disarray, No more we'll hear her whistle "wail" At the crossings on the way.

Or see her travel through the night, Her head light gleaming bright, As she hauled her freight and passengers Through a dark and lonely night.

She ran through farms and villages, Up wooded hills and down, While a fireman fed the engine coal On the way to Shawneetown.

John L. Gwaltney