Titanic (27 page)

Survivor Lawrence Beesley was very glad to see land again. It seemed to him that eight weeks rather than eight days had passed since he’d left England. He could barely remember those first peaceful, uneventful hours of the voyage.

And, even then, he understood that his life would never be the same. “I think we all realized that time may be measured more by events than by seconds and minutes: what the astronomer would call 2:20 a.m. April 15, 1912, the survivors called ‘the sinking of the
Titanic
,’” he said.

What Lawrence couldn’t know was that a century later, even after all survivors had passed away, people around the world would still remember this date and time, and continue to commemorate the sinking of the
Titanic
.

(Preceding image)
Crowds gather in New York City to read the bulletin board of the
New York American
to learn about the disaster of the
Titanic
.

(Preceding image)
A huge crowd forms outside the New York City offices of the White Star Line, awaiting news of the
Titanic
.

(Preceding image)
A newsboy sells the
Evening News
announcing the sinking of the
Titanic
.

Harold Bride had played a key role in the
Titanic
’s efforts to get assistance from other ships. When the
Carpathia
arrived in New York, he found himself at the center of the media’s interest. He sold his story to the
New York Times
and was happy to receive the money.

It would take Bride until the end of April to begin to feel better. By then he could say, “I am glad to say I can now walk around, the sprain in my left foot being much better, though my right foot remains numbed from the exposure and cold but causes me no pain [or] inconvenience whatever.”

Harold Bride returned to England. He never forgot the dedication of Jack Phillips, who had continued at his post sending distress signals until the very end. Bride married and moved to Scotland. He and his wife had three children.

They named one of them Jack.

(Preceding image)
Wireless operator Harold Bride suffered badly injured feet in the
Titanic
disaster.

Although she knew in her heart it was unlikely, stewardess Violet Jessop couldn’t help holding out hope for a miracle: that another ship had somehow picked up survivors.

“In the dusk of evening, we crept up the Hudson into New York, where a crowd waited, hoping against hope that messages received had been false and that relatives might be among those on board,” wrote Violet.

“Long before we got near the dock, despairing inquires were shouted across the intervening waters. It was only then that we learned that no other ship had found a soul. The horror was renewed all over again.”

The next day, recalled Violet, some people brought used clothing they’d collected to the dock and spread the items out on tables for survivors. It reminded her of a rummage sale. Her thoughts were on getting back home, though it was hard to face another voyage at sea.

Violet Jessop went back to Great Britain on the
Lapland
, on a more southerly route than the
Titanic
had taken. Two weeks after the British inquiry into the
Titanic
disaster, Violet Jessop was on another ship — back on the job.

The
Titanic
was not the only maritime disaster Violet survived. During World War I, she served as a volunteer nurse for the British. Exhausted and sick after a tour of hospital duty, she was assigned to sea duty on board the
Britannic,
sister ship of the
Titanic
.

Violet was on board on November 21, 1916, when the hospital ship struck a mine off the Greek island of Kea and sank in fifty-five minutes, with the loss of thirty lives. Violet was nearly killed by the ship’s propellers when she jumped into the sea from her lifeboat. She had never been underwater before and could not swim. Her life jacket came loose and couldn’t support her. She managed to grab another life belt floating nearby. Before her eyes the ship took its final plunge.

Violet Jessop was pulled from the water by another lifeboat. She returned to work for the White Star Line in 1920, serving on the
Olympic
, where she had once been a stewardess before joining the
Titanic
. She continued at sea until she retired in 1950.

Brooklyn, New York

Sun April 21

My dear Mother and all,

I don’t know how to write to you or what to say, I feel I shall go mad sometimes but dear as much as my heart aches it aches for you too for he is your son and the best that ever lived. I had not given up hope till today that he might be found but I’m told all boats are accounted for. Oh mother how can I live without him. I wish I’d gone with him if they had not wrenched Madge from me I should have stayed and gone with him. But they threw her into the boat and pulled me in too but he was so calm and I know he would rather I lived for her little sake otherwise she would have been an orphan. The agony of that night can never be told . . . I haven’t a thing in the world that was his only his rings. Everything we had went down . . .

Charlotte Collyer

Frankie Goldsmith and his mother, Emily, arrived in New York destitute. Although they only received fifteen dollars from the White Star Line and two railroad tickets to Detroit, other groups, including the
Titanic
Women’s Relief Committee and the Red Cross, provided financial assistance to them and other families in need.

Emily and her son kept in touch with several friends they’d met on the voyage, such as fireman Sam Collins and Rhoda Abbott, who had lost her two sons and was the only woman rescued from the water.

In a letter to Emily Goldsmith in early 1914, Rhoda Abbott wrote: “I read by the papers the terrible weather you are having. I suppose Frank enjoys it. I know my little fellow used to when he was alive. I have his sled now that he used to enjoy so much, bless his little heart. I know he is safe in God’s keeping, but I miss him So Much.”