Exceptional A Letter from a Titanic Survivor Cheating the Deep by RaymondJohn      Contest Winner

Category:  Letters and Diary Fiction   Posted:  March 1, 2009      Views: 1024

RAYMONDJOHN  IN PRINT   ABOUT RAYMONDJOHN  Raymond John is a hopeless FanStory addict who has at times spent as many as twelve hours in a single day reading, reviewing and writing for the site. His three purposes are based on three "Es" which are Explain, Enlighten and Entertain. His greatest fear is to take himself too seriously. He may not always smile, but he always has a twinkle in his eye. Knock his socks off with a fantastic write and he'll be your best cheerleader and give you a banner award, to boot. He has written two novels and numerous short works. His first book, The Cellini Masterpiece, has sold nearly 3,000 copies and received an Honorable Mention in the 2006 IPPY awards. It is now available in a Kindle edition from Amazon.com. An audio version (ISBN 9780615268125) is now available read by the renown actor, James Cada. MP3 edition, downloadable for IPOD, is 14.95. Order at www.raymondjohnbooks.com. His second mystery, Mix and Match Murder, which was originally scheduled for release in September of 2008 is now in print and available from Amazon.com, barnesandnoble.com and North Star Press. A scholar born in the golden age of radio, Raymond always appreciates hearing a well-told story, especially one with action and believable dialogue in a historical setting. I have written and received many reviews. I have a thick skin, so if constructive criticism is forthcoming, bring it on. He has won several contests. The contest submission Mousie, Kittie and Booger was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. Gold In Them Thar Words was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. Lot 386 was the first place winner in the contest Tales of the Weird.. He is a top ranked author and is currently holding the #22 position. Portfolio | Become A Fan 16 April 1912. Dearest Sister Julia, I am writing to you from the S.S. Carpathia wrapped in a blanket among the other survivors of the Titanic. By the time you read this, you will already know about the tragedy. I have been in a daze since I was pulled out of the water. I cannot fathom how the most romantic journey of anyone's lifetime could turn into such an unbelievable nightmare. I still shiver, even though it is not cold in the galley. Perhaps I always will. I have so much to tell you, I scarcely know where to begin. I'm sorry you couldn't come to the wedding. Liam was so handsome in his long black tails and his starched shirt, but I giggled at his celluloid collar that made him look as if he didn't have a neck. I was so giddy I could easily have tripped over my dress if wonderful little Sarah hadn't kept it away from under my feet. Liam had just arrived from Edinburgh that morning, and we would board ship the next day. We filled St. Patrick's church in Belfast, and some of the relatives had to stand against the walls because they couldn't find seats. We had requested our guests forgo buying gifts, but rather contribute as much as they could toward buying our tickets. Everyone except mother did as we asked. She gave me a filmy pink nightgown and howled like a Banshee at my embarrassment. "He'll see much more of you than that on your wedding night." After the wedding, we were so excited to see all the money in the baskets the ushers passed around. They were all heavy, filled to overflowing with tuppence, six-pence, and the occasional shilling and crown. There were no pound notes, but I did see a crisp new "White Fiver."* I don't know who donated it, but I knew it would go a long way towards paying our fares. I expect it probably came from several of the cousins who went together to buy it. No one in my family could have paid for it by themselves. Liam's either, for that matter. We didn't count the money, but dumped everything into a large linen bag. Liam could barely lift it. The next morning he hoisted it on the ticket agent's counter. He glared at us as he sorted, and we stood holding our breath waiting to know if we had the twenty-four pounds we needed for second class tickets. At last he finished. We got our wish with two pounds to spare. That, and the ten pounds we got from Liam's schoolmates when he finished medical school, would give us money enough to buy food during the passage. Doctor Finch from St. Mark's hospital would meet us at Pier 59 in New York and take us to our new flat. At the time, I wanted our honeymoon trip to last forever. Now I shudder to think how close I came to getting my wish! We took a hansom to the dock. Long before we got there, I could see the ship. Its size overwhelmed me. I had never even imagined anything so immense. She was well-named. R. M. S. Titanic indeed. But why did they need to build such a monstrosity just to carry mail? Twenty of our relatives were on the dock to see us off, waving hankies at us for as long as we were in view. My heart beat like the arms of a steam engine as we crossed the gangplank. A man looked at our tickets, and saluted. He was very polite. "Your room is in E Deck. Take the stairway down." We met guards at every level. Finally, one handed Liam a key and pointed down a passageway. "Your cabin is the third on the left. Enjoy your voyage." We noticed there were several other stairways leading down deeper into the immense bowels of the ship. Each had a white-coated guard at the bottom of the stairs. Liam unlocked the door and opened it. Then he swept me off my feet as he stepped over the threshold. The cabin had a clean scent of pine, and I saw branches on the bed and nightstand. Liam didn't even move them as he flopped on the bed and pulled me down on top of him. I blush to say, Mother needn't have bothered giving me a nightgown. My new husband finally wore both of us out, and we slept until late in the afternoon. The ship had landed and left Southampton, and we were to arrive at Cherbourg at sunset. We were allowed to be on the top deck, but just a part of the rear half of the ship. We strolled and enjoyed the sun for a while, then I spent the rest of the afternoon in the library while Liam played poker in the lounge. Later on, we dined on a wonderful roast pork and apple sauce with fish and veal on the side. Afterward, we went back up to the top deck. We weren't allowed to mix with the people in First Class, of course, but the wind was blowing in our direction so we could clearly hear the band playing. We gleefully danced foxtrots. It was as if we had stolen the music from the rich. While we were dancing, we met some nice people from Belfast and decided we would get together later to play bridge. I could barely follow suit, but I was game. Liam was a very good player, and I told him that if I got to be too much of a burden for him, he could partner up with Mr. MacDougall for the rest of the night. We played until two in the morning. I fell asleep once or twice, but Liam stuck with me the whole time. It was just another proof of how much he loved me. The next day we arrived at Queenstown/Cobh just before noon. After a short stay, we put out to sea. The cabin attendant told us we wouldn't stop again until we arrived at New York in the early hours of April 17. The days began to seem long, even though I enjoyed reading Dracula. I had read that Bram Stoker was very ill and near death, and I had never read his book. My hair stood on end through every word. Liam tried to keep busy with his poker and bridge. We ate our morning and noon meals in casual clothes, then enjoyed dressing up to have our suppers. Our dining room was on the deck below us and ran the complete length of the ship. I finished Dracula and began to feel a sense of boredom I hadn't expected. I soon ran out of things to talk about with the other women in Second Class. There were few who were my age, and the ones that were didn't have much in common. Being with Liam was exciting, but the marriage bed could occupy just so much of our time. The same could be said for sleeping. For that reason, the bump we felt on that fatal Monday night, the 15th, provided us with some needed excitement. It woke us from a nap. Minutes later, one of the ship's stewards came to reassure us that we had met with some ice, but that we had nothing to fear because the Titanic was unsinkable. We dressed and raced each other to the stairway. I felt a rush of cold air as we climbed. When we reached the upper deck, I was nearly hit in the face by a flying snowball. People were running about, laughing and talking in excited voices. The band played some spirited tune in the First Class area. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits. I think we all may have been happy for a respite from the menu of entertainment we had experienced. A loud groan from the ship frightened me, even though Liam did his best to reassure me. I looked over the railing and saw a strange blue glow just above the level of the water. Search lights darted and flashed over our heads. After a brief stroll I felt a chill and we went back to our cabin. An hour later, perhaps, one of the stewards knocked on our door and told us we would have to abandon ship. The women and children were to line up to be allowed forward on the top deck. I didn't know what was happening, but I wasn't going to leave Liam under any circumstances. On deck, what had been laughter now sounded of fear. Men stood back and watched as their women disappeared aforeships. Liam begged me to go, but I refused. When he realized I wouldn't leave him, he hurried back down the stairway and insisted that I follow on the run. The boat listed noticeably as we scrambled down to "D" Deck, the one above ours. The door to the galley was open, and the immense kitchen empty. Liam began to tear open the doors to the pantries. I thought he had taken leave of his senses and asked him what he was looking for. "Lard. We have to find lard." His answer was so unexpected I nearly laughed out loud, but realizing the seriousness of our situation, I joined him in the search. At last we found a large tub of it behind one of the doors near the stoves. "Take off your clothes!" I blushed, but he glared at me and started to undo my buttons. Finally my clothes were lying in a heap on the floor and Liam began to smear me from the top of my head to the tips of my toes with thick gobs of cold, white goo. After he finished with me, he stripped and told me to help smear him. Next we coated our clothing. When we were finished we looked like mister and missus Snowman. The ship listed farther to the right as we raced up the stairs. A man shivering in a white coat told us that all the boats were filled. Some of the men had begun to jump over the side of the ship. There could be no doubt as to their fate. Their screams when they reached the water broke my heart. We would hear many more before the night was over. Liam grabbed the edge of a large tarp, and I helped him throw it overboard. He said we were going to get wet, but that it should be enough to keep us afloat. Sure enough. We looked down and saw it bobbing in the water, some thirty feet below us. We got up on the railing. "Don't jump!" someone shouted. "The water is too cold. Wait for a ship to come to our rescue." We barely heard him. Joining hands, we jumped. I could never have imagined how cold the water would be, but we fought our way to the surface. Liam had been right. Though partially submerged, the tarp didn't sink as we pulled ourselves up onto the heavy canvas. Ice quickly formed on our clothing and hands. My teeth chattered, but I felt far less cold than I thought I would be. "Paddle away from the ship," Liam ordered. "We have to get away before it sinks." My arms ached from exertion and the frigid water as we moved at a snail's pace, fighting the weight of the tarp and the waves. What seemed like hours later, we were drawn backwards and under by a tremendous undertow. Then, like a miracle from our Blessed Mary, the tarp resurfaced. We came up with it. We floated alone in a boundless quiet under a huge black curtain with tiny sparkles of light poking through it here and there. Liam and I clung together. It may have kept us a little warmer, but I doubt it very much. At first we expected to be rescued presently. We saw the lights of a ship in the distance, and were sure it was coming to our assistance. Hopes faded. The lights never came any closer and we watched them until they disappeared into the darkness. How could the ship leave? They must have seen the lights from the Titanic. With our arms around each other, we did our best to keep each other awake. My legs and arms felt numb, and a cold wind washed over us the whole time. I tried my hardest to keep from nodding off, but I was exhausted and could fight no longer. I woke up, I don't know how much later, to the sounds of shouts. Before I was fully awake, men in a lifeboat grabbed my arms and lifted me out of the water. I shouted for Liam. One of them said they had found me alone. No one was with me. I struggled against them. If Liam were in the sea, I wanted to stay there with him. But I was too cold and too weak to resist, and began to sob. The crew on board gathered me up when we reached the ship and immediately wrapped me in blankets. The First Mate and men of the crew surrounded me. According to the First Mate, I was the only passenger they rescued from the water. All the other survivors had been in life boats. No one could believe I was still alive. My teeth chattered as I told them how we escaped. "Your husband was a brilliant man," the First Mate said. "You could never have lasted in the cold as long as you did if you didn't have the insulation the lard provided." "I don't care that I'm still alive. I want Liam." The First Mate took me by the shoulders and gently squeezed them. "He's gone. He must have known the tarpaulin couldn't support the two of you. I'm sure he went into the water to save your life." I knew he was right. That's what Liam would have done. I broke into uncontrollable sobs as the women stripped off my clothes. My fingers barely could move and my toes were black, and I couldn't feel my legs. They covered me with blankets, but I didn't open my eyes or move from the bench where they sat me. I don't know how much later, someone shook my shoulder. "Leave me be." "Then maybe I should jump back into the water." My eyes opened in shock as I recognized Liam's voice. I tried to stand but couldn't. All I could do was hold his hand against my face.I started to sob again and Liam cradled my head against his stomach. When I could finally speak, I said, "I don't understand. The First Mate said they didn't rescue anyone else from the water." "I swam as long as I could. Then one of the lifeboats came by. They pulled me on board." Tears gave way to uncontrollable laughter. The Blessed St. Mary had indeed given us a miracle. I must close now. I can barely hold my pen. Come to see us at St. Mark's at your first opportunity. I can hardly wait for you to meet Liam! Your loving sister, Martha, now Mrs. Liam McGillivary Contest Winner Recognized Share your own writing! - Information on our membership for writers. Author Notes * The "White Fiver" was a large white five pound note. The average worker in the British Isles at the time would have to work more than a year to earn such a sum. Some reviewers have claimed this could not be a letter, it is too long and detailed. Indeed this would be correct today. One hundred years ago, however, the letter was the main form of communication and many ran ten to twelve pages and detail was, and still is, the joy of writing. Admittedly, too, Martha wasn't the typical young Irishwoman of the day. Based on what may have been a true rescue account. It is, at least, a popular legend of the time. We can only hope it is true. God Bless. Ray. Pays one point and 2 member cents.

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