Tragedy at the Crossing

Sixty years later, the intersection at Cessna Road and Westland Drive in Knoxville still looks much as it did that fateful day in 1965.

DUANE CROSS
MCO Publisher•Editor

The intersection at Cessna Road and Westland Drive in Knoxville is not just a crossing of asphalt and rails – it is the site of one of Tennessee athletics’ darkest days. In this place, tragedy reshaped a community and galvanized the enduring spirit of the Volunteers.

Sixty years ago, on the morning of Monday, Oct. 18, 1965, assistant football coaches Bill Majors, Bob Jones, and Charlie Rash were lost in a horrific car-train collision, a moment frozen in the collective memory of the University of Tennessee and the broader sports world.

Bill Majors, born Nov. 7, 1938, in Lynchburg, was the son of Shirley and Elizabeth Majors and a brother to Johnny, Joe, Shirley Ann, Larry, and Bobby. The Majors family’s legacy was woven tightly into the fabric of Tennessee football. Bill’s career had been marked by dedication – three years as the starting tailback before joining the coaching staff, quickly earning the respect of players and peers alike.

Jones, a Sugar Bowl hero for Baylor, had returned to football after a detour in law, drawn by the game and a spot on Doug Dickey’s staff. Rash, once a standout lineman at Missouri, overcame a health scare just days before to make the Alabama trip – his determination emblematic of the bonds these coaches shared.

(UT had fought to a 7-7 tie against Alabama two days earlier, a game remembered because Tide quarterback Kenny Stabler, believing his team had picked up a first down on the prior play, threw the ball out of bounds to stop the clock with six seconds left. It was actually fourth down.)

The Morning that Changed UT Forever

Early that Monday, Rash picked up Jones and Majors as usual, heading toward campus. In a cruel twist, a Southern Railway train running behind schedule collided with their Volkswagen at the crossing, flinging the car and scattering lives and memories.

Jones and Majors were killed instantly; Rash was rushed to the hospital, where he would fight for his life for four days. The only certainty about the crash was a stopped watch, belonging to Jones, frozen at 6:53 a.m. – the final moment of three friends on their way to work.

The aftermath was devastating. Coach Dickey and university president Andy Holt delivered the news, and the community reeled in shock, with practices and events canceled across campus. Churches filled for memorials; notes and flowers piled up; a scholarship fund quickly grew for the children left behind.

On the field, the Vols played through unimaginable pain – wearing black crosses on their helmets, observing solemn memorials and moments of silence. Rash succumbed to his injuries days later, deepening the pall and testing every ounce of the Volunteers’ resolve.

Even amidst grief, the 1965 Volunteers came together, fueled by the memory of fallen friends and coaches. Tennessee won the emotional Houston game and went on to fight through the season, finishing 8-1-2 and clinching its first bowl appearance in nearly a decade.

The turnaround was nothing short of miraculous, a testament to Dickey’s leadership and the bonds forged in sorrow. The Vols ascended the SEC ranks, and Dickey earned Coach of the Year, but the victories lingered under the shadow of loss.

A plaque memorializing the three coaches was unveiled in October 2015, on the 50th anniversary of the tragedy.

Legacy in Place and Memory

Sixty years later, that intersection still looks much as it did, with only faint changes – a new house, warning lights atop the crossing sign, but still no gate, elevated tracks bordered by overgrown grass. No official marker notes the collision, but periodic flowers and Volunteer orange adorn the site, left by those who will not forget.

The coaches’ names live on, etched in a bronze plaque at the Doug Dickey Hall of Champions at Neyland-Thompson Sports Complex, unveiled in October 2015 during a reunion for the 1965 team.

Their loss remains a sacred chapter in Volunteer history. The tragedy at the crossing stands as a reminder: In Tennessee, no matter the circumstance, the Volunteer Spirit rises to aid those in pain, rallying as one family, forever changed but never defeated.