Letter from the Rectory

Dear Friends,

I saw lots of chocolate bunnies and Easter eggs in the shops, but this true

story reminds us what Easter is about:

In the summer holidays of 1937, John Griffith, the controller of the great

railway drawbridge across the Mississippi River took his eight year old

son, Greg, to work with him. At noon, John put the bridge up to allow ships

to pass and he and his son went to the observation deck to eat their lunch.

Time passed quickly.

Suddenly, John heard the shriek of a train whistle in the distance. The

Memphis Express, with four hundred passengers on board, was racing

towards the raised bridge. He rushed back to the control tower.

Just before throwing the lever to lower the bridge, John glanced down and

saw something that filled him with horror. Somehow his son had fallen

into the massive gears that operated the bridge and his left leg was caught

between the two main cogs. Desperately, John tried to think of a way to

rescue him, but there was no time.

Again, with alarming closeness, the train whistle sounded urgently. John

knew what he had to do.

He buried his head in his arm, as he pushed the master lever forward. The

huge bridge lowered into place just as the Memphis Express began to roar

across the river.

John Griffith lifted his head, with tears pouring down his face. He looked

into the windows of the passing carriages. Two businessmen were casually

reading their newspapers. People were snoozing. Nicely dressed ladies were

sipping coffee in the dining car and children were eating ice-cream.

No one looked out of the window at the control house of the bridge and

no one saw the great gear box. With wrenching agony, John cried out, “I

sacrificed my son for you! Don’t you care?”

With my love and prayers,

Judith Grundy.