January 6th, 1853, Franklin Pierce, newly elected as the 14th President of the United States,

is accompanied by his wife Jane and their 11-year-old son Benny, traveling by train from Andover, Massachusetts,

back home to Concord, New Hampshire.

In a short matter of weeks, this family of three will embark to Washington DC and prepare for the presidential

inauguration. As the train leaves Andover, rumbling along the tracks, Jane sits in stern

stoicism.

She harbours nervous feelings that her husband's recent victory had demonstrated ego,

a vain affront to God.

Franklin had promised her he'd steer clear of national politics, and yet now here

she is, soon to be First Lady.

She casts her eyes on her young son Benny, their only surviving child, standing at the window staring out

of the view, when suddenly...

There is a violent wrenching, a tremendous jolt, frightful, terrifying mashing of metal machinery.

The pierces, all the passengers on the train car, are thrown tumbling from their seats.

The car seems to lift into the air, suspended, derailed.

Then it rolls. Windows breaking, metal shrieking, everything falling in a chaotic blur.

People scream out in terror as the train car crashes downhill.

A minute later, the world is still again,

only moans and groans, the hissing of the engine.

Panicked, Jane struggles to her feet, seeking out her son.

Instead, she sees only her husband, pale and shaken, shielding her from seeing what?

And there is poor Benny.

...