A Marco Christmas Carol

When the Christmas train came to Marco, it was over the old trestle bridge that today is only a memory. As the story has been told, the old engine that pulled the railroad cars across the Marco River that day was just about the greatest thing the folks on Marco had ever seen. Everyone at the depot - man, woman or child - was more impressed than anyone could ever remember. It was a very special day in December when the first and only Christmas train rolled over the Marco trestle on Christmas Eve.

Normally, the train to Marco came only once a week, running down the tracks between the water and the mangroves, but when the engine broke free of the trees at Bear Point, Cooper Harris would always pull down on the whistle cord and send out a blast of steam that could be heard all the way to Caxambas.

On the routine run, the week before Christmas, the steam locomotive and the four boxcars crossed over the trestle as usual, but engineer Cooper was ready with a mischievous smile when he saw the boys loading freight at the Marco depot.

Just after the turnaround, and after all the mail, the dry goods and canned goods were unloaded and the Marco clams and pineapples were all aboard, old Cooper winked at Charlie Lowe the fireman just before he climbed back up to the cab of the steaming locomotive.

“You boys might be in for a surprise if you can gather some folks here for next week’s train.” Cooper announced to all at the depot, “Charlie and me are-a-coming and bringing something special for Christmas!”

All week long, every soul that lived on Marco, was talking about the old engineer that looked like Santa Claus and what would happen on Christmas Eve.

Down at the shade house near the Caxambas ridge, the crew at the Ludlow Fruit Factory all believed that Cooper Harris was going to dress up like St. Nick and that the soot and coal-blackened fireman, Charlie Lowe, would be basically himself as he pretended to be Santa’s helper.

Everyone down at Burnham’s by the Kice Island pass had a different idea. They were hopeful for something for the youngsters. Everyone was married and everyone had children, but digging and canning clams did not pay very much. It was fairly well known that most of the folks on Marco lived a good life, but there wasn’t much money for anything extra special.

The folks down at the Marco Inn were eager for some new customers. Everybody knew that the visitors from up north always came after New Year’s, but this year Charlie and Cooper might just hitch up that passenger car early and bring some tourists down for Christmas.

All of the clam diggers working on Doxee’s Factory Bay were convinced that Charlie Lowe and Cooper Harris were bringing smoked wild turkeys and hams that were home cured in Charlie’s smokehouse. Cooper and Charlie were the best boar and turkey stalkers this side of Fort Myers, and as anyone from miles around knew, the islanders on Marco were tired of eating clams, fish, and pineapples.

As the days passed and the week went by, everyone joked that Cooper and Charlies’ train was coming slower than Christmas. Finally, when the big day arrived and everyone from Marco, Caxambas, and Goodland point was waiting by the depot, dark clouds began to gather before a cold front and just after the wind changed, the rain began to fall; slow, steady and cold.

During the week, the Marco depot was empty, but even though it was Christmas Eve, it was still a train day, and with all of the pineapple crates and cases of canned clams there wasn’t much room for shelter.

With the women and the youngsters crowded around the crates under the tin roof of the depot, the men tilted their hats to the wind and waited in the rain. As the drizzle continued, and as the late December day began to darken, thunder rumbled in the distance, and everyone knew the train was late.

Just after it started to get very quiet, and just before the youngsters became restless, an expectant mother softly began singing “Silent Night.” All of the others joined in and well before the first verse was finished, everyone knew that the spirit of Christmas had arrived even without the train. When the last of the chorus fell silent, a whistle blast sounded from across the river and amongst a cloud of steam, a shining headlamp began looming large across the trestle.

Even before the engine rolled to stop, everyone was surprised when a huge vent of steam was released from the locomotive. Before the steam could clear, Cooper Harris was standing on the loading platform dressed up like St. Nick, and a soot-blackened Charlie Lowe was standing beside him.

There was Brazilian pepper hedge or Florida holly decorating the hissing engine, and there were two Florida scrub pines strapped on either side of the locomotive and decorated as Christmas trees. As everyone gathered round St. Nick and his assistant, Cooper and Charlie began handing out real peppermint candy, and chocolate bars all the way from Hershey Pennsylvania. With all the steam from the engine and the youngsters in a frenzy around St. Nick, the innkeepers from old Marco didn’t have time to notice there were two passenger cars attached to the train and that dressed up visitors from up north were stepping down onto the deck of the depot.

Cooper and Charlie had saved that year, all the way since last July when they first heard the news. They had hunted boars and turkeys and smoked the meat, and they had even asked Mr. Thomas Edison to help all the way in Fort Myers. The chocolate was expensive, but it was worth it to watch when the youngsters tasted Mr. Hershey’s treat for the very first time. The passengers were easy because they were already waiting, and the Florida holly and the quickly chopped Florida Christmas trees were decorations added at the last minute.

Cooper and Charlie knew this had to be a very special Christmas. The year was 1930, and Cooper had received the news last July. The train to Marco would not be coming in the New Year. The new route would follow the tracks all the way down to Key West, and the folks on Marco, without a train, were about to face hard times in something the politicians in Washington and New York were calling a Great Depression.

Bringing Christmas was a simple choice for old Cooper and Charlie. Everyone from miles around knew the folks on Marco had big problems, but they did look after each other, and they sure did live on a beautiful island.

The Atlantic Coast Line Railway did come to Marco with the old railway trestle crossing the Marco River just to the east of the Judge Jolley Bridge. A Marco Christmas Carol is intended only as entertainment and not for historical accuracy. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Tom Williams is a Marco Islander and the author of two books: “Lost and Found” and “Surrounded by Thunder—the Story of Darrell Loan and the Rocket Men.” Both books are available on Kindle and Nook.