On the night of August 20, 2012, two best friends, 19-year-old Rosem and Elizabeth Nass, decided to spend their final evening together before parting ways for college. It had been a golden summer, and with both heading to different states for school, they wanted one last memory to hold on to.
Their favorite spot in Ellicott City, Maryland, was a familiar one—an old train trestle that stretched above Main Street. It wasn’t some hidden, dangerous hangout; it was well-known in town. Local teens, including Rose and Elizabeth, had often climbed up there to sit on the ledge, chat, and watch the town below. While the trestle carried active train tracks, the ledge was far enough from the rails that it felt relatively safe. Trains could pass by without ever posing a danger to anyone seated at the edge.
That night, the girls climbed up onto the trestle once again. Despite being underage, they brought along a few beers to toast to the end of summer. They laughed, talked about classes and the months ahead, and shared how much they would miss each other. At one point, Rose snapped a photo of their legs dangling over Main Street and posted it to Twitter—one final moment captured.
But just seconds after she hit “post,” an ear-piercing screech shattered the calm. The girls turned to look behind them—and in an instant, everything went black.
It wasn’t the train itself that struck them. Although a train had been passing by at that moment, the tracks were far enough from the ledge to avoid direct contact. Tragically, what happened was something far more horrific: the train had partially derailed.
Several of its cars tipped over—not completely off the tracks, but enough to spill their heavy cargo. These weren’t enclosed cars, but open ones carrying thousands of pounds of coal. As the cars collapsed to their sides, the coal poured out in an unstoppable wave—burying Rose and Elizabeth alive.
It was like an avalanche, not of snow, but of rock. By the time rescue crews uncovered them, both girls were already gone. Rose and Elizabeth were the only fatalities in the derailment.
In the aftermath, both families sued the railroad company, citing negligence. While settlements were eventually reached, the financial terms were never made public. The loss, however, was immeasurable—and in the hearts of their loved ones, irreplaceable.