(The following story by Clif LeBlanc appeared on The State website on January 12.)
COLUMBIA, S.C. — The engineer in Thursday’s fatal Graniteville train wreck was eulogized Tuesday as a good-hearted fellow who had railroading in his blood.
Christopher Glenn Seeling, 28, left a circle of remembrance that drew about 150 mourners to Columbia’s First Presbyterian Church, many from his railroad family.
As the gathered sang one of his favorite hymns, “Rock of Ages,” Seeling’s polished poplar wood casket lay adorned in a spray of red- and peach-colored roses with white carnations.
A harpist filled the sanctuary of the 210-year-old church with the comforting tones of Seeling’s favorite instrument.
The life of Chris Seeling began in Fort Wayne, Ind., but he had become “a good old Southern boy,” his brother Eddie Schmidt, 19, wrote in the funeral bulletin.
Seeling, a barrel-chested 6-footer, learned to love hunting and fishing. But his love of the rails was born into him, said Joe Teague, who grew so close to Seeling he considered him family.
“Whenever he heard the whistle, his stepdad would haul him over there, about a mile from the house,” Teague, a West Columbia contractor who built Seeling a home here, said in an interview.
“His fascination with trains was on a bigger scale than most young boys,” Teague said. “He wanted the real thing.”
A family Amtrak vacation trip in 1989 was the final step in setting Seeling onto a career path.
He will be buried Friday in Indiana, where his passion was sparked.
During Tuesday’s service, the Rev. Neal Mathias recalled Seeling’s final train ride.
“Last Thursday morning, lots of things went wrong,” Mathias said. “Lots of things came undone.”
Yet the minister asked the mourners to follow Seeling’s lead by turning to God for guidance and solace.
Brian McLaughlin was the first engineer to train Seeling as he prepared to become a Norfolk Southern engineer.
McLaughlin said Seeling was filling in for a vacationing engineer the night of the Jan. 6 accident. “I told him to be safe,” McLaughlin said.
It would become the last of their scores of conversations, personal and professional.
“We’re just going to miss him in Columbia — terribly.”