An Easter Tragedy

The Weirton Bus Crash of 1951

By Mary Zwierzchowski

The Sunday morning crash of a crowded city bus in Weirton on April 29, 1951, left 14 dead and scores injured in this tight-knit, Northern Panhandle town.

“We started out to church, but we never got there,” Mrs. Marie DeCollo told a Weirton Daily Times reporter. Her words, simply stated, sum up the devastating event that occurred in Weirton on April 29, 1951.

It happened on a peaceful Sunday morning. The Greek, Russian, and Serbian Orthodox churches were celebrating the Easter holiday. The Roman Catholic and Protestant churches had celebrated that same holiday one month earlier on March 25. Still, in this city of diverse cultures, the Easter season remained. Tulips were in full bloom, and the budding foliage of Hancock County had begun to brighten the hills.

Bus driver Joseph Kraina was about to begin the 6 a.m. shift. He walked in the brisk morning air from his home on Ridge Avenue to the Pittsburgh & Weirton Bus Company garage, where he had worked for the past eight years. The spacious two-story building was situated at a sharp turn near the base of Weirton Heights hill on Pennsylvania Avenue. It housed a fleet of 15 commercial buses, and “Joe” — as his passengers called him — would have his pick of the lot. He selected a shiny new bus, one that had been purchased the previous June for $17,000. Joe revved up the engine, slipped it into gear, and began his first run of the day.

Road conditions on that sunlit morning called for careful driving. A severe rainstorm had swept through Weirton the previous night, leaving the highway littered with rocks and debris. Road crews would not arrive to clear away the debris until late afternoon.

Kraina’s route — designated “Weirton Heights” — extended three miles along Pennsylvania Avenue from Main Street downtown to a turnaround point near Palm Drive on Weirton Heights. He completed the hilltop route several times without incident. Then sometime around 9:30 a.m., Kraina told a passenger that his brakes were not holding. He stopped at the company garage to have them adjusted, which took about five minutes. After being reassured that the brakes were compressing properly, he was told to “take one more run.”

It was near 10 a.m. when the Weirton Heights bus once again made the turnaround at Palm Drive and began picking up passengers. Most were headed for 10:30 Mass at the St. Paul and Sacred Heart of Mary Catholic churches located in north Weirton. Both churches stood in the shadow of the giant steel mill — the Weirton Steel Company — which ran day and night, providing jobs for more than 10,000 workers. The mill and the churches were the focal point that made Weirton Heights a close-knit neighborhood, where nearly everyone knew everyone else.

Marie DeCollo boarded the bus at 20th Street. She sat with her two daughters, six-year-old Judith and 20-year-old Chris. They continued west on Pennsylvania Avenue, making frequent stops, taking on men, women, and children — all dressed in their Sunday best.

By 10:05 a.m., the bus had reached 11th Street. Every seat was taken, and standing room had been pressed to the limit. Some even stood in the step-well near the exit. Among those waiting to board were Kathryn Drelick and Valentino Grossi, both of Beech Road.

Kathryn Drelick’s daughter Martha (Drelick) Vidas was waiting for her mother at Sacred Heart of Mary. Mrs. Drelick inched her way on to the crowded bus, moved a few steps toward the back, and accepted the seat offered to her by Sophia Yurko.

Valentino Grossi, who attended Mass at St. Paul’s church, seldom rode the bus. His daughter Louise (Grossi) Enrietti recalls, “My father always rode to church with neighbors. But on this particular Sunday, he decided to take the bus.” Mr. Grossi was likely the last passenger to board. He nudged forward in the crowded aisle and stood near the driver. The overloaded bus, filled with happy, chattering, church-bound passengers — 38 seated and 21 standing — began its descent down the mile-long hill.

The 10th Street stop lay just ahead. What happened next, however, is unclear. Some say those waiting at 10th Street were left stranded as they watched the Weirton Heights bus go whizzing by. Other accounts indicate that another P&W bus — designated “State Line” — preceded Kraina’s bus and made the 10th Street pick-up. Kraina’s bus reportedly pulled up behind it, waited for traffic to clear, and then proceeded to pass. In any event, it was at this point that the tranquil scene began to unravel.

You can read the rest of this article in this issue of Goldenseal, available in bookstores, libraries or direct from Goldenseal.