Sophie Abraham
Name: Mrs. Mary Sophie Halaut Abraham (née Easu)
Born: Saturday 10th February 1894
Age: 18 years
Last Residence: in Ayn 'Arab Lebanon
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2657 , £7 4s 7d
Destination: Greensburg United States
Rescued (boat C)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Saturday 11th December 1976
Cause of Death: Heart Failure / Disease
Buried: Westmoreland Memorial Park, Hempfield Township, PA
Mrs. Joseph Abraham (Mary Sophie Halaut Easu), 18, was born 10th February 1894, in Shwahed, Syria, the daughter
of John Easu and Matian (?Marian) Abraham. She was married to Joseph Abraham (born 15th June 1887, died 2nd
October 1952) and they lived in Westmoreland, Greensburg, Pennsylvania.
She was returning from visiting friends and family in Syria. She boarded the Titanic at Cherbourg as a third class
passenger. She was rescued in collapsible C.
Mrs. Abraham's son Zackie Halaut was born 4th October 1913 he died in February 1975.
Sophie Abraham died in Greensburg, PA in 11th December 1976. She is buried in Westmoreland County Memorial
Park, Greensburg.
YOUNG GREENSBURG WOMAN WAS PASSENGER ON ILL-FATED SHIP
Greensburg Herald Tribune
Monday 22 April 1912
"Oh, I feel bad, ver' bad, los' money, los' friend. When I stand up I see ship come again, when I shut my eyes. I see
people go down, down, down--Oh ver' bad time." And, with the remembrance of it, Mrs. Sophie Abraham, 20? years
old, shuddered and buried her face in the dark hair of her little niece who leaned against her knee. Mrs. Abraham was
one of the few passengers rescued from the Titanic.
At the home of her brother, Samuel Easu, who keeps a store on South Main and Mount Pleasant streets, Mrs. Abraham
told her story. Her husband, Joseph Abraham, a Syrian formerly employed at the Kelly and Jones works, but who is
now working in Allentown, New York, is expected home to greet his wife today or tomorrow.
In a small living room back of Mr. Easu's store, the young woman, rescued after perilous adventures in the sea, sat.
About her clustered friends and a number of members of the Syrian colony. Running her fingers through the soft hair
of the two little children who stood at her knees, now and then picking them up as if she never could leave them go, and
showering their faces with kisses, Sophie Abraham told her story. She wore a light blue dress, a skirt of blue satin, now
faded, and about her hair was thrown a scarf of a darker blue, glittering with spangles.
She would have made a subject for a painting as she sat with the children at her knees, with her beautiful regular
features, olive skin, and great dark eyes, now and then heavy with weariness, again tragic with the weight of her
sorrows and the experiences through which she had passed.
By the aid of her brother who acted as interpreter, Sophie Abraham told of lying awake on her bed in the ship Titanic.
Troubled by sleeplessness, Mrs. Abraham had lain down in her clothing, just as she had done several times previously.
All at once came the crash. Gesturing with her expressive hands, Mrs. Abraham illustrated how the great ship rocked
and swayed, and how the half dressed people swarmed up on deck. Then she told of the orders from the officers to
lower the lifeboats, how women were placed in the boats, how one by one they were filled and rowed away, and then
finally, how she was picked up by a sailor and thrown into the sea, the sailor missing the lifeboat in his haste.
Crowding around the railing she says were men, fighting for an opportunity to get to the remaining lifeboats. Officers
commanded them to stand back and make way for the women and children. Good order was restored and after the first
panic, men bravely lowered the women to safety.
When she came to the surface, after her plunge, Mrs. Abraham says, she was taken into a crowded lifeboat. A big wave
upset it and all were in the water. Another lifeboat picked Mrs. Abraham up with two or three others from the
overturned boat. Four sailors in her lifeboat rowed away from the side of the sinking ship. Finally they joined a group
of lifeboats, and the little flotilla was fastened together with ropes to afford better protection to the damaged boats.
She watched the big ship with all the lights sinking lower and lower until all the lights were out. The sun was just
above the surface of the sea the next morning when she was taken on the Carpathia, she said. All night the women in
her boat, sat and shivered in the biting air. Her clothing was frozen to her body after her plunge into the ocean. No one
thought of eating, as Mrs. Abraham said: "Everybody scared too much, everybody glad to save life, no think of eat."
In New York she was met by many men, she said, who questioned her if she had a place to go. "I can't remember
much," she said, "I get sick. I stay in nice place two nights, lots to eat, good clothes, good bed. They say I stay Monday,
Tuesday, Wednesday, but I say, "No I go home, to my family." With a grave smile lighting up her beautiful eyes, Mrs.
Abraham again showered the little ones with kisses as she went on to tell how one man gave her a ticket to Greensburg
and another gave her $30.00 in money.
Mrs. Abraham arrived in Greensburg between 10 and 11 o'clock Sunday morning. None of her relatives knew of her
coming, none of her relatives knew she had taken passage on the Titanic. When she descended from the train, she was
dazed. Stolidly she stood on the platform, a package on her arm and a suitcase at her feet. Henry Coshey and Baggage
man Carns assisted her to the station, and secured Mr. Coleman's taxicab, which Mr. Coleman quickly placed at her
service. In a trice after she alighted at the store of her brother in South Main Street, Mrs. Abraham was surrounded by
a sobbing, laughing swarm of relatives and friends. Hugging and kissing her by turns, the one Greensburg survivor of
the Titanic was greeted. But the long ordeal and the great joy of meeting her people was too much for her and she
collapsed in a faint on the pavement. All day Sunday she was too ill to talk much. Monday morning however, she felt
better and tried to answer the countless questions put to her by friends. With eagerness she is awaiting the coming of
her husband who was notified at once by telegram of her arrival.
Mrs. Abraham had just returned from a several months' visit to her native country. Never again, she says, will she
return unless she can go by land.
--------------------------------------That it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good was demonstrated here today day in the happy reunion of George
Abraham, a Syrian, employed at the Fogelsville cement plant, and his wife Mary, aged 24, a survivor of the Titanic
tragedy.
Abraham came to this country several years ago, and through industry has been prospering. Twice his wife crossed the
ocean, only to be turned back by the immigration authorities. Determined to join her husband, she sailed a third time
on the Titanic. She was a second-class passenger and was one of the women hurried into the lifeboats. From previous
experience she was in great fear that she might again be turned back by the Ellis island inspectors, but found when the
Carpathia came in that red tape had been suspended.
Mrs. Abraham lost all her belongings and $50 in the wreck, but got $30 from the fund raised for the relief of the Titanic
survivors.
After being rescued, Mrs. Abraham saved the life of a Syrian who was shot in the arm by an officer and fell into the
sea.
----Sophie Halaut Abraham, 82, of South Greensburg, one of the last survivors of the Titanic, died Saturday, Dec. 11.
She was born on Feb. 10, 1894, in Shwahed, Syria, the daughter of the late John and Marian Abraham Easu. She was
a member of St. Michael's Orthodox Church and the church's lady's guild.
She was preceded in death by her husband, Joseph, and by a son, Zack Halaut in 1975.
Leah Aks
Name: Mrs Leah Aks (née Rosen)
Born: Sunday 18th March 1894
Frand Philip Aks
Frank Philip Aks (son)
Wednesday 7th June 1911
Age: 18 years
10 months and 8 days.
Last Residence: in London London England
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 392091 , £9 7s
Destination: Norfolk Virginia United States
Rescued (boat 13)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Thursday 22nd June 1967
Monday 15th July 1991
Mrs Sam Aks (Leah Rosen), 18, was born in Warsaw, Poland on 18 March 1894, the daughter of Morris Rosen, who
in 1912 lived at 25 Brunswick Street, London.
She boarded the Titanic at Southampton with her baby son Frank Philip Aks (ticket number 392091, £9 7s). Leah and
"Filly" had left their home in London for 195 Chapel Street, Norfolk, Virginia where Leah's Husband Samuel, a tailor,
was waiting for them.
On the night of the sinking Leah Aks was forced up to the boat deck she found herself next to Madeleine Astor. Upon
seeing the baby Mrs Astor removed her shawl and wrapped it around him. Not long after as Leah stood on the deck
clutching her baby son he was suddenly torn away from her and tossed into lifeboat 11 which was being prepared for
lowering, as she struggled to retrieve him she was restrained by crewmen who thought she was trying to rush the boat.
Filly was caught by Elizabeth Nye who sat him on her lap, later she wrapped him in a steamer blanket to keep him
warm . Meanwhile Leah, still in a state of shock, was pushed into lifeboat 13 next to Selena Rogers Cook.
After their rescue Leah and Selena were walking together on the deck of the Carpathia when an Italian woman
(possibly Argene del Carlo) passed them holding a baby, Leah recognized Filly at once. She went to Captain Rostron
and appealed to him to help her get her baby back, he took the two women to his room and asked each to provide proof
of identity. Leah was able to describe a birthmark on Filly's chest and he was returned to her
She was so grateful to Captain Rostron of the Carpathia for her rescue that the following yearly giving birth to her
only daughter she named her Sarah Carpathia Aks. But the nuns at the hospital when filling out her birth certificate put
down Sarah Titanic Aks!
The bitter cold she had endured in the lifeboat while awaiting her rescue had permanently damaged her eardrums and
she suffered from a partial loss of hearing for the rest of her life.
When Titanic departed on its first and last voyage from Southampton, England on Wednesday, April 10, 1912,
18-year-old Jewish immigrant Leah Aks and her 10-month-old son, Philip were on board.
Passover had concluded the day before. On sailing day, Leah was pleased to find that the third class was not
completely booked; she and Philip had a cabin all to themselves.
Leah was born in Warsaw, Poland. In London, she had met Sam Aks, a tailor who was also from Warsaw. They were
married there.
“In London he was barely making a living,” wrote Valery Bazarov, historian for the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society,
in a piece about the family for HIAS. “A cousin who lived in America visited him in London and told him that if he
came to America he’d make money very quickly. So he came over, got a job and soon saved enough money to bring
Mrs. Aks and the baby over.”
Sam settled in Norfolk, Va. and entered the scrap metal business. In Titanic: Women and Children First, author Judith
B. Geller indicates that all the money Sam earned was used for Leah and “Filly’s” trip to join him. Their arrival in
Norfolk would mark the first time Sam would meet his son.
Though Leah and Filly were booked onto an earlier ship, Bazarov explained that Leah’s mother convinced her to wait
a week and travel on Titanic, considered the world’s safest liner.
Four days into their journey, after the ship struck an iceberg, Leah and Filly followed other third-class passengers to
the bottom of the third-class staircase at the rear of the ship.
At 12:30 p.m., the crew permitted women and children in this group to make their way to the boat deck. When crew
members saw that Leah and Filly couldn’t get through the crowd up the stairs, they carried the two. Leah and Filly
made it to the boat deck, part of the first-class area of the ship. Madeline Astor, the young wife of millionaire John
Jacob Astor, covered Filly’s head with her silk scarf.
According to Bazarov, a distraught man—who had been rebuffed by the crew when he attempted to get into a
lifeboat—ran up to Leah and said, “I’ll show you women and children first!”
The man grabbed Filly and threw him overboard.
Leah searched the deck until someone urged or pushed her into lifeboat 13. She sat in the middle of the Atlantic with
63 others in number 13, a broken woman. Hours after Titanic went down and the cries for help from those dying in the
water faded away, the liner Carpathia arrived at daybreak.
Leah searched the deck of Carpathia in vain for her baby. Despondent, she took to a mattress for two days. Titanic
survivor Selena Cook urged Leah to come up on deck for air. When she did, she heard Filly’s cry.
Unknown to Leah, FFilly had fallen into lifeboat number 11, right into another woman’s arms. In Geller’s account, the
woman is presumed to have been Italian immigrant Argene del Carlo. Her husband was not permitted to follow the
pregnant Argene into the lifeboat.
“Argene shared her warmth with Filly through the long night,” Geller writes. “Toward morning she began to believe
that God had sent this child to her as a replacement for Sebastino (her husband) and a brother for the child she carried
in her womb.”
On the deck of Carpathia, the woman who had cared for Filly since Titanic sank refused to give Leah the child.
Leah appealed to the Carpathia’s captain, Arthur Roston, now put in the role of King Solomon.
In an e-mail interview with The Observer, Gilbert Binder, the husband of Leah’s late granddaughter, Rebecca,
described what happened next.
Binder said that Filly was returned to Leah because “she identified him as a Jewish baby and he was circumcised. The
(other) woman was Catholic and Italian and her male child would not have been circumcised.”
After their arrival in New York, Leah and Filly were taken to HIAS’ shelter and remained there until Frank could come
for them.
Leah Aks gave birth to a baby girl nine months after arriving in this country and intended to name her Sara Carpathia,”
in honor of the rescue ship, Binder explained. “The nuns at the hospital in Norfolk, Va. got confused and named the
baby Sara Titanic Aks. I have a copy of her birth certificate.” Sara was Binder’s mother-in-law.
Leah lived until 1967; her son, Filly, until 1991.
Lillian Asplund
Edvin Asplund
Name: Miss Lillian Gertrud Asplund and
Edvin Rojj Felix Asplund
Born: Sunday 21st October 1906
Friday 19th March 1909
Age: 5 years
3 years
Last Residence: in Alseda Småland Sweden
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 347077 , £31 7s 9d
Destination: Worcester Massachusetts United States
Rescued (boat 15)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Saturday 6th May 2006
Tuesday 1st March 1983
Miss Lillian Gertrud Asplund, 5, was born in Worcester, Massachusetts on 21 October 1906, the daughter of Carl &
Selma Asplund. Lillian was a fraternal twin and her twin brother was Carl Edgar.
Lillian's family came originally from Alsema in the Smaland region of Sweden but had for some years been settled in
Massachusetts. In 1907 they had returned to Sweden to settle Mr. Asplund's father’s estate upon his death and to care
for his mother. In 1912, Lillian's father, Carl O. Asplund, was set to go back to his previous position as a labourer at
Spencer Wire Works in Worcester. According to a letter written by Mr. Asplund to his sister, the family was very
much looking forward to returning to the United States. Four of Lillian's aunts (3 being her mother's sisters and 1 her
father's) and their families lived in Worcester at the time.
In an interview conducted with Miss. Asplund, some time ago, she recalled the disaster and relayed how she
remembered being passed through what she described as a window (later identified as the First Class Promenade
Deck) into a descending lifeboat and looking back up at the sinking Titanic. Having left 3 of her brothers, including
her twin, Carl, and her father onboard the doomed ship, she maintains she was haunted by their faces peering over the
rail at her for much of her life. She recalled her father was holding her twin and her 2 older brothers were on each side
of them. Lillian was rescued in lifeboat 15 with her mother and brother, Felix (3). After rescue by the Carpathia they
were brought to St.Vincent's Hospital in New York City.
Upon their eventual arrival in Worcester, they resided at 151 Vernon St., the families original intended destination, at
the home of Lillian's aunt and uncle. The devastated family had lost all of their possessions including their life savings
on the Titanic. The city of Worcester, shortly thereafter, held a very successful fundraiser and benefit for the family
with the total sum raised reaching nearly $2,000. That money was supposedly invested and the interest paid to the
family with access to funds as needed. The mayor of Worcester at the time, the honorable Mayor David F. O'Connell,
was one of the trustees. In 1951, Lillian and her family moved to Shrewsbury, Massachusetts.
After the disaster, Lillian was employed at various secretarial jobs in Worcester but retired early to care for her elderly
mother. Her mother passed away on the 52nd anniversary of the disaster that claimed the lives of 4 members of her
family, at the age of 90. Her younger brother, Felix, passed away at the age of 73, 18 days shy of his 74th birthday.
Neither Lillian or her brother ever married and never had children.
Lillian Asplund
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Lillian Asplund was born on October 21, 1906 in Worcester, Massachusetts to a Swedish immigrant family father Carl
Oscar Vilhelm Gustafsson Asplund and mother Selma Augusta Emilia Johansson. Lillian had a twin brother, Carl
Edgar, and two older brothers; Filip Oscar, born in 1898 and Clarence Gustaf Hugo, born in 1902. A fourth brother,
Edvin Rojj 'Felix', was born in 1909.
In 1907, Lillian's father had taken his family to Småland, Sweden to help his widowed mother settle problems with the
family farm. By early 1912, the family was ready to return to the United States, and Lillian's father booked passage for
his family aboard the Titanic.
Lillian, her parents and 4 brothers boarded the Titanic at Southampton, England on April 10, 1912 as third-class
passengers. Lillian was five years old at the time and recalled that the Titanic "was very big, and it had just been
painted. I remember not liking the smell of fresh paint."
When the Titanic struck the iceberg at 11:40 pm on the night of April 14, 1912, Lillian's father woke his sleeping
family and then put all important papers, including cash, into his pocket. Lillian, her mother and brother, Felix, were
loaded into Lifeboat No. 15. Lillian later recalled, "my mother said she would rather stay with him [my father] and go
down with the ship, but he said the children should not be alone. [My mother] had Felix on her lap and she had me
between her knees. I think she thought she could keep me a little warmer that way." She later described the ship
sinking as a big building going down.
Lillian, her mother and brother were rescued by the RMS Carpathia, which had arrived at the scene shortly after four
o'clock in the morning. Lillian and her brother were loaded into burlap bags and hoisted to the Carpathia's deck. Once
on the Carpathia, Lillian remembered:
A woman took all my clothes off me. My clothes had gotten very dirty and wet in the lifeboat. My mother was trying to
find me. She was saying, 'I have a daughter!' Well, she found me. And eventually my clothes were dry, and I put them
back on. They took us, the children, to the place where they take people who are sick. Well, not sick, but people who
needed a little more attention. The people on the Carpathia were very good to us."
The Carpathia arrived in New York City, New York on April 20 and Lillian's mother took her and her brother to
Worcester shortly thereafter. Lillian's father and brothers, Filip, Clarence and Carl, perished on the sinking. Only her
father's body was recovered and was later buried in a Worcester cemetery.
In the confusion after the disaster, a Worcester newspaper reported that both Mr. and Mrs. Asplund had been saved,
along with Clarence, Lillian and Felix, and that Filip and Carl had drowned. A later report said that Selma and her "two
babies" had been taken to a local hospital, and that Mr. Asplund and Clarence were apparently at another location. A
final report confirmed that neither Carl, Sr. nor Clarence were among the survivors.
Lillian's mother refused to discuss the disaster with anyone, telling Lillian that it was simply wrong to do so. Lillian
agreed with her mother and throughout the rest of life hardly ever spoke of the disaster. Lillian's mother died on April
15, 1964, the 52nd anniversary of Titanic's sinking, and her brother, Felix, with whom Lillian lived, died in 1983.
After her death, the steamship ticket she had held for so many years was sold at auction.
Lillian died in her home in Shrewsbury, Massachusetts on May 6, 2006 at the age of 99; she would have been 100 on
October 21. She was buried in All Faiths Cemetery in Worcester alongside her father, mother, and brother.
Lillian's death left two living Titanic survivors, Barbara West and Millvina Dean; however, both were less than a year
old at the time of the sinking and neither had any recollection of it. She was the last survivor who remembered the
sinking first hand, having been five years old at the time.
Moving tale of Titanic survivor is revealed in collection of letters
The moving story of one of the last survivors of the Titanic is revealed for the first time after touching letters and
documents were discovered after her death. For 94 years Lillian Asplund refused to speak about the tragedy that
claimed the lives of her father and three brothers. Instead, the spinster kept the final moments of her family locked in
her memory and the poignant possessions of her father Carl hidden in a shoebox in her bureau. It was only after her
death at the age of 99 that the box was found along with the collection of Titanic-related items that, pieced together,
tell the tragic story of the family's demise.
Among them were notes Mr. Asplund had copied from a flyer promoting the benefits of living in California, an
American dream that enticed the family to set sail for a new life. An incredibly rare and water-stained ticket for the
luxury liner was also found. Only a handful of Titanic tickets are in existence as most of them sunk with the ship.
The paper documents recovered from his body miraculously survived for 12 days after the disaster because Mr.
Asplund's lifejacket kept his coat's breast pocket out of the water. His pocket watch which stopped at 19 minutes past
two - the exact time the liner sank - was also found on him. And a heart-rending note written by his grief-stricken
mother in which she wrote of how she hoped to see her son again in heaven formed part of the collection.
The stunning archive includes a sad photograph of Lillian, her mother Selma and three-year-old brother Felix, who
both survived, at her father's grave in 1912.
"Lillian Asplund was the last American survivor and the last survivor with actual memories of it. She was a very
private person and hardly ever spoke about the disaster.
"She never married and the tragedy must have left a huge emotional scar on her.
"The box was in an Edwardian oak bureau in the home Lillian used to live in with Felix and Selma. The shoebox
wasn't particularly interesting to look at but opening it up was like lifting the lid on arguably some of the most
historical artifacts relating to the Titanic.
"The vast majority of the documents have never been seen or published before.
"When you piece them together they tell the story of how this family had hoped to start a new life in America, possibly
California, until they boarded Titanic. After that there are these emotional letters and photographs showing what was
left of this family in grief."
The Asplund family lived in Alsema in southern Sweden until they decided to emigrate to Worcester, Massachusetts,
in 1912.
Carl Asplund, a 40-year-old laborer, bought seven third class tickets for the Titanic's maiden voyage from
Southampton to New York on April 10, 1912.
With him were wife Selma, then aged 38, and five children Filip, 13, Clarence, nine, Carl Edgar, five, Lillian, five, and
Felix, three.
When the ship hit an iceberg and started to sink on the night of April 14, the Asplunds made a decision that the family
should die together along with the 1,500 who perished.
But, according to an account Selma Asplund later gave, at the last moment Felix and Lillian were thrown into lifeboat
15 by an unknown person. Mr. Asplund then pushed his wife forward to go with them.
She was haunted by the memory of the faces of her husband and three sons peering over the rail moments before the
ship sank. Her husband's drowned and frozen body was recovered from the Atlantic 12 days later but there was no sign
of his three sons.
Found in the pockets of his brown overcoat were his gold watch, two small keys for a safety box on board which stored
the family's life savings, and his gold wedding ring.
Also recovered were two pocket books, one of which contained his notes on their new life in California. It is thought
he had copied out a flyer designed to entice people to California to show his wife.
Very rare: A water-stained ticket for the luxury liner is in the collection
'American dream': Carl Asplund copied an advert extolling the opportunities in California that may have taken the
family to their deaths
Part of it read: "California wants people like you, now is your time to come here. We have green grass and wild
flowers at this time of year and all the facilities you can have.
"An ideal home we can offer you we think. Perhaps you don't believe what we are saying about our climate and city.
Come and see it with your own eyes."
Other papers on him included a letter dated February 28, 1912, telling Mr. Asplund he had as job waiting for him.
His possessions were handed to Mrs. Asplund who also kept a cold and heartless letter from White Star Line dated
May 11, 1912.
It told her they were giving her late husband's effects back as they were of "small value". Mr. Aldridge said: "This
letter states that the items were of low value which is ironic considering just how much they are worth now."
Mrs. Asplund stored the moving letter written by her mother-in-law, Kristina Samuelsson, 16 months after the
tragedy, in the box.
In it she states how much her eyes hurt from where she has been in mourning.
She wrote: "My nerves are so weak and my eyes are so poor because I have been crying so much but I hope that my
grieving days soon will have an end and I will join the final rest where God has promised to wipe out the tears from all
the faces."
Mrs. Asplund died aged 91 on April 15 1964 - 52 years to the day of the disaster. After her death Lillian Asplund put
her mother's wedding ring in the box alongside that of her father's gold band.
Felix Asplund died in 1983 aged 73 and Lillian passed away in 2006. The auction takes place on Saturday, April 19.
Marie Catherine Baclini
Eugenie Bacline
Helene Baclini
Name: Marie Catherine Baclini
Eugenie Baclini
Helene Baclini
Born:
21st September 1906
12th July 1911
Age: 5 years
3 years
9 mo. 3 days.
Last Residence: in Ash Shuwayr Lebanon
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2666 , £19 5s 2d
Destination: New York City New York United States
Rescued (boat C)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: 27th June 1982
30th August 1912
28th April 1939
Mrs Solomon Baclini (Latifa Qurban), 24, was born in Schweir, Syria (now Lebanon).
Latifa boarded the Titanic at Cherbourg with her three daughters: Eugenie, Helene Barbara and Maria Catherine. They
were travelling from their home in Syria (now Lebanon - they would have considered themselves to be Lebanese) to
join Latifa's husband who was already in New York. They were not originally scheduled to travel on the Titanic but
Maria developed conjunctivitis (pick eye) and they had to abandon plans to board their original ship in Cherbourg,
until it cleared up.
The Titanic was the first available ship when they were ready to resume their journey so they booked passage in third
class. Travelling with them was Miss Adele Jane Kiamie Najib who was going to the United States to be married. Mrs
Baclini was serving as her chaperone since Miss Najib was only in her teens.
When the collision occured Mrs Baclini knew something was wrong and somehow made her way with her daughters
and Miss Najib to the boat deck. Supposedly, when they were boarding Collapsible C, the officer loading the boat
would not let Miss Najib on because she was not a "blood relative" of Mrs Baclini. However, Mrs Baclini insisted that
she could not arrive in America having saved herself and her daughters and tell Miss Najib's family that she had to
leave her behind. They finally let Miss Najib on the boat. This conversation had to have taken place in either French or
Arabic since neither Mrs Baclini nor any of the others spoke English.
Mrs Baclini's husband did not know his wife and daughters were on the Titanic until after they arrived in New York.
Mrs Baclini lived in New York for the rest of her life. She died in 1962 and is buried with her husband in St. John's
Cemetery.
Willie Coutts
Name: Master William Loch "Willie" Coutts
Neville Coutts
and
Neville Leslie Coutts
Born: Thursday 16th October 1902
Friday 23rd October 1908
Age: 9 years
3 years
Last Residence: in London, London, England
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 37671 , £15 18s
Destination: Brooklyn New York United States
Rescued (boat 2)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Wednesday 25th December 1957
Tuesday 29th March 1977
Master William ‘Willie’ Loch Coutts, 9, was born in London on 16 October 1902, the son of William and Winnie
Trainer Coutts. He boarded the Titanic at Southampton as a third class passenger with his mother and younger brother
Neville. The family were on their way to Brooklyn, New York to join Willie’s father, William Coutts.
On the night of the disaster Willie, his mother and brother were rescued in lifeboat 2, but not without difficulty. It
seems that the straw hat he was wearing made him look too old! But he was finally granted access to the lifeboat.
In later years William Coutts became a professional musician, married and had two daughters, one of whom still
resides in North Carolina.
William Loch Coutts died in Steubenville, Ohio on 25 December 1957, aged 55.
RESCUED WOMAN PAYS TRIBUTE TO HEROIC MEN ON TITANIC
The Washington Post
Saturday 20 April 1912
Mrs. William Coutts, of this city, described in graphic manner how she and her two sons, Neville and William 3 and 9
years old, respectively, were rescued through the bravery of men aboard the doomed vessel. “My husband had sent
me money to buy second-class passage for the children and myself.” Said Mrs. Coutts, “but I went in the steerage. I
wanted to save the difference in passage money to help build up our home.”
“I was asleep when the ship struck. The crash was slight that I thought little of it. I lay awake for fully fifteen
minutes before I got up. I dressed myself slowly, and then went out on deck to see what the trouble was.” “Every one
was hurrying, but there was no disorder. I heard some talk about lifeboats, and then I hurried back to the children. I
tied life preservers on the boys and then looked around for one for myself. There was none in sight.” “I rushed out on
deck with the children following me.”
“Just when I had given up hope of finding my way a seaman came along and said “Hurry now; all women and children
to the lifeboats.”
“He took us to the side of the ship but I wanted a life preserver. Just then an American gentleman who had heard me
asking for a life preserver stepped up to me. He raised his hat, and then slowly removed the life preserver he had
strapped to himself.”
“Take my life preserver, madam,” he said. Then he reached over and put his hand on the children’s heads. “If I go
down, please pray for me.” He said. “There were other brave men on board the Titanic, for I saw them helping
women into the lifeboats as our boat pulled away. After kissing those they helped into the boats the men stepped back
and did everything they could to load the boats quickly.” “I was in the first boat that was picked up by the
Carpathia. There were seventeen in our boat. It was frightfully cold, but neither I nor the children suffered as much
as the others, because we were fully dressed.”
“When we got on board the Carpathia every one did everything possible for us. There was no discrimination, the
poorest women receiving as much attention as the wealthiest.”
Laura Mae Cribb
Name: Miss Laura Mae Cribb
Born: Wednesday 24th July 1895
Age: 16 years
Marital Status: Single.
Last Residence: in Parkstone Dorset England
Occupation: Shop Assistant
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 371362 , £16 2s
Destination: Newark New Jersey United States
Rescued (boat 12)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Thursday 4th April 1974
Miss Laura May Cribb 1 was born on 24th July 1895, in Newark, New Jersey 2 the daughter of John Hatfield Cribb
and Bessie Welch. She had three siblings: Ernest, Ellen, and Frank.
In 1912 Laura and her family had been staying in Bournemouth, Dorset, England. She and her father boarded the
Titanic at Southampton as third class passengers; their destination was Newark, New Jersey.
On the night of the sinking Laura was rescued, possibly in lifeboat 12.
GIRL SAYS FATHER SAVED HER IN WRECK
Newark Star Saturday 20 April 1912
To the rare presence of mind of her father, John H. Cribb, who lost his life when the Titanic sank, Miss Lillian M.
Cribb, 17 years old, believes she owes her life. Controlling her overtaxed nerves as best she could upon her arrival at
the home of her uncle, John W. Welch, at 106 Pennington street, last night, she recited the incidents attending her
rescue aboard the Carpathia.
It was a beautifully clear night, with the stars lighting the sky, that but few of the third cabin passengers had retired. I
myself had been asleep only a few minutes when the alarm was sounded, and hardly realizing any danger, I dressed
and went out. I found my father waiting for me. He grasped me by the hand and almost dragged me to the deck above
by a passageway which was known only to persons familiar with the ship.
As a butler in prominent homes around New York he had acquired friendships which gave him entry to circles of that
vocation, and some of those acquaintances renewed on board the Titanic stood him in good stead at this time, for we
were permitted to mount to the upper decks by this stairway, used ordinarily only by employees. He escorted me to a
lifeboat and, placing me in one which was about to be lowered, he bade me good-by, saying that he would get into
another and meet me in a short while.
I did not see him again. But, oh, the awfulness of it all did not come to me until long afterward. I didn't think it was so
serious. I kept hearing them say over and over, "Women and children first," and I permitted myself to be placed into a
lifeboat, but I could not realize that it was anything but a sort of a dream. There were thirty-five people in our boat,
which was the fourth to leave the Titanic, and all but five, who were sailors sent to man the boat, were women.
We pushed away and the men rowed as hard as they could, so, as they said, we would not be caught in the suction
when the vessel should go down. I saw the big iceberg which we struck and it looked as though the ship was stuck fast
into it. The lights were lit for perhaps a half-hour after we left the ship and they disappeared and we did not see the ship
or the iceberg again. After drifting about until daylight we discerned a wide field of ice with several high icebergs
protruding, but I could not say that any one of them was that which we had struck.
When we were taken aboard the Carpathia we were asked to what class we belonged. I, of course, told them I was of
the third-class, as did others, but immediately we became aware that there was a difference between the
accommodations of the two ships for the same classification of passengers. Such things as table linens and other
homelike features were missing in our new habitations, we found. But eventually foreigners of a certain class were
relegated to another part of the ship and we were given what was probably more attention than was usual for that grade
of passengers. In fact, there was one of my father's old friends who saw that I and some of my new acquaintances got
some of the things on the bill of fare that the second-class passengers got, and so we did not fare so badly after all, so
far as eating was concerned.
Miss Cribb is decidedly English in her speech and manner, but by birth she is an American, having been born in
Newark seventeen years ago. The last eight years she has lived in Bornemouthe, England, where her mother and two
brothers and a sister still remain. She and her father had preceded the rest of the family on what was to have been their
return to this country for the purpose of making their home.
Mr. Cribb was for several years assistant steward of the Essex Club of this city and he was later butler for Herbert
Ballentine. In a similar capacity he was in the employ of Frank Gould on the yacht, Helenita, and until last September
was butler at the home of E. S. Repello, 841 Madison avenue, New York. It was to the last mentioned place to which
he had expected to return on his arrival upon the Titanic.
Sunday, July 1 2007
In eight handwritten pages, a 16-year-old passenger recounted the Titanic's last hours, starting with the moment the
ill-fated ocean liner hit an iceberg.
From a lifeboat, Laura Marie Cribb watched the luxurious vessel's lights go out and listened to the "most terrible
shrieks and groans from the helpless and doomed passengers who were left on the wreck of the great ship."
Millvina Dean
Bertram Dean
Name: Miss Elizabeth Gladys 'Millvina' Dean
and
Bertram Frank Dean
Born: Friday 2nd February 1912
Saturday 21st May 1910
Age: 2 months
1 year
Last Residence: in Bartley Farm Hampshire England
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2315 , £20 11s 6d
Destination: Wichita Kansas United States
Rescued (boat 10)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Sunday 31st May 2009
Tuesday 14th April 1992
Miss Elizabeth Gladys Dean, better known as Millvina, was born on 2 February 1912. She was the daughter of
Bertram Frank Dean and Georgette Eva Light Dean. In April, 1912 she was only nine-weeks-old and was, with her
parents and elder-brother Bertram, about to emigrate to Wichita, Kansas where her father hoped to open a tobacconist
shop.
Bertram sold the public house and purchased a third class ticket for his family (ticket number C.A. 2315, £20 11s 6d).
The family were originally booked on another White Star liner, possibly the Adriatic, but owing to the coal strike they
were transferred to Titanic. The Deans boarded the Titanic at Southampton.
On the night of the sinking Bertram was alerted to the danger by the actual collision. He left the cabin to investigate
and soon returned, telling his wife Ettie to get the sleeping children dressed and up on deck.
Millvina, her mother and brother were all rescued. They returned to England aboard the Adriatic. It was on the
Adriatic that Millvina became quite a spectacle: that such a tiny baby could have came through the ordeal alive. First
and Second Class passengers on the Adriatic queued to hold her, and many took photographs of her, her mother and
brother, several of which were published in contemporary newspapers.
"[She] was the pet of the liner during the voyage, and so keen was the rivalry between
women to nurse this lovable mite of humanity that one of the officers decreed that
first and second class passengers might hold her in turn for no more than ten minutes"
(Daily Mirror, 12 May 1912)
Millvina and her brother were raised and educated on various pension funds. Millvina attended Greggs School,
Southampton. In her younger years Millvina did not know that she was on the Titanic, and only found out when she
was eight and her mother was planning to remarry.
Millvina never married, working for the government during World War II by drawing maps, and later serving in the
purchasing department of a Southampton engineering firm. It wasn’t until Millvina was in her seventies that Millvina
became a Titanic celebrity: she has since been in great demand to appear at conventions, exhibitions, in
documentaries, radio and TV programs, etc. In 1997 she was invited to travel aboard the QE2 to America to complete
her family’s voyage to Wichita, Kansas.
In April, 1996 she visited Belfast for the first time, as guest of honour for a Titanic Historical Society convention.
Millvina was the last living-survivor. She lived in retirement in Southampton, England and was kept very busy
attending conventions; appearing in documentaries, TV series and radio shows; signing huge amounts of autographs;
and relating her tales to school groups.
She died 31st May 2009 after a short illness.
Last Titanic Survivor Dies
Millvina Dean was only a baby during the sinking of the Titanic. Lowered into a lifeboat on the cold morning of April
15, 1912, she was one of the youngest people on the Titanic and the last Titanic survivor to die. She passed away at age
97 and died in Southampton, England where she had lived her whole life in May of 2009. Her family tried to escape
the town by sailing on the Titanic to America to create a new life when the tragedy struck.
Being only 2 months old during the Titanic disaster, Dean has no recollection of the event, but her mother told her the
story when she was 8. The events told were so horrible that she (her mother) vowed never to speak of the event. Her
mother suffered from headaches ever since the event. Her father Bertram had stayed behind along with 1,500 other
passengers and crew members and had gone down with the ship.
Knowing her place in history and its importance, Dean was eager to share her story with others, especially children.
The Dean family was not scheduled to travel on the Titanic, but rather another ship owned by White Star Line. A
national coal strike led to its cancellation and they were placed on the Titanic as an alternative as third class
passengers. The family was awakened by a jolt when the ship sideswiped the iceberg that buckled the hull of the
Titanic. Her father went to see what was wrong and returned to tell his wife to dress the children warmly and take them
to the lifeboat deck. After she and her mother, Georgetta, 32, and her brother Bertram, 23 months old, were put into
lifeboats, her father assured them that he would be along shortly, but died after the Titanic sank into the Atlantic.
Dean, her mother, and her brother sailed to New York on the Carpatia and spent several weeks in the hospital. They
then went home to England sailing on the Adriatic. Dean knew that the sinking of the Titanic would change her life
dramatically and knew that if it weren’t for the tragic event that she would be American. After the disaster Dean
attended secretarial school and moved to London as a mapmaker for the British Army. She returned to Southampton
and was a secretary for an engineering firm. She lived in a house in nearby New Forest and never married.
Dean may have gone her entire life without telling anyone that she was a passenger on the Titanic. She ignored the
books, movies, and websites pertaining to the wreck until her anonymity was ended in 1987. She attended a memorial
service in Southampton on the 75th anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic. Titanic historian and author Don Lynch
invited her to speak at a Titanic Historical Society convention in Boston the following yea
Before her death, she arranged for a London auction house to sell some of her Titanic memorabilia to help pay for her
nursing home fees. The sale raised $53,906. Dean’s mother died in 1975 at 95, her brother died in 1992 on the 80 th
anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, he was 81. Millvina Dean was possibly the youngest survivor on the Titanic
and her death marks the death of the last Titanic survivor.
Virginia Ethel Emanuel
Name: Miss Virginia Ethel Emanuel
Born: 1907
Age: 5 years
Last Residence: in New York City New York United States
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 364516 , £12 9s 6d
Destination: New York City New York United States
Rescued (boat 13)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: 1972
Miss Virginia Ethel Emmanuel, 5, boarded the Titanic at Southampton with her Nurse Miss Elizabeth Dowdell who
was escorting her to her grandparents home in New York, NY. Her step-father had deserted her and her mother who
was, according the New York American, the Opera singer Estelle Emanuele
They shared a third class cabin with Amy Stanley.
Ms Dowdell and Miss Emmanuel were rescued in lifeboat 13.
HARROWING TALE OF SCENES ON TITANIC BY MISS DOWDELL
Hudson Dispatch
Saturday 20 April 1912
Miss Elizabeth Dowdell, of 215 Park avenue, Union Hill, one of the Titanic's passengers mentioned in yesterday's
issue of the Hudson Dispatch, was willing to relate some of the stories connected with her experience in the greatest
sea tragedy of the world's history to one of the Dispatch reporters last evening after recovering from her nervous
condition.
"It is all to [sic] great for me to realize," said Miss Dowdell. "To think of it! I am one of the few fortunate ones who
have lived through all the many horrors while at sea, and thank God for His mercy which He showered upon me to
give me strength in rescuing little Virginia Emanuel who was with me.
Miss Dowdell, a faithful nurse for the six-year-old daughter of Mrs. Estelle Emanuel, a well known opera singer,
residing at 629 West 115th street, New York city, contemplated an enjoyable trip with the child whose care was
entrusted to her. Virginia's mother is in very poor health at the present time, and owing to a contract made with one of
London's most prominent theatrical troupes, she has determined to spend several months in England. Fearing and
realizing that perhaps death may come to her sooner than may be expected, she decided that Virginia should be placed
in the guardianship of her grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Wheil, of Manhattan, who would provide for her daughter's
happiness.
"We were delayed on special train to reach the Titanic in the time we had planned, and feared we would miss it.
However, we arrived just in time for the gateman to remark, 'You're lucky to have caught it.'
"The voyage up to the time of the disaster had been a delightful one. We had enjoyed very fine weather and the sea was
quite calm. Many of the passengers seemed to enjoy the sun's rays that Sunday afternoon. Toward evening it grew
colder, and at night it was almost too cold to be out on deck at all.
"I was just about to sleep when I was awakened by the crash," continued Miss Dowdell. "An officer of the second
cabin was heard rapping at the doors and advising the passengers to prepare.
"Get hold of a life belt, ladies,' he said.
"'Is there any danger?' I heard some one ask.
"'I fear there is, madam,' he replied.
"With those words I aroused little Virginia from her sleep and dressed her in just the same manner as I had for that
glorious Sunday afternoon. I then hastily threw on a few clothes and a heavy gray sweater and started for the deck. I
was surprised to find that there was no great excitement.
"The few who had gathered on the deck when Virginia and I reached there came up similarly to inquire what had
happened that the engines stopped, but there really wasn't much anxiety in the minds of any of us. We never surmised
that we were in much danger, nor did we have any conception that the Titanic had been pierced by the submerged
iceberg. I noticed that several men in the smoking room were enjoying a game of cards. The had been playing all
afternoon and seemed little disturbed by the jar which the steamer received.
"Little by little we felt the ship sinking. Everything seemed calm, considering the great danger we were encountering.
A few moments later I heard an officer call, ‘Let the ladies pass to the deck below.’ I noticed that the covers were lifted
from the boats and the crews allotted to them lowering them by the pulley blocks into the water.
"It was pitiful watching the men who had to remain in absolute silence on deck, leaving their wives, sweethearts,
sisters and children to face and battle with the danger without their aid. We, however, noticed in the darkness of the
night---for there wasn't any moonlight---boats slipping quietly away, followed by other boats which were lowered.
Finally the cries and moanings were heard more distinctly, for up to this time we slowly realized the fate we had met.
Virginia and I were pushed in the throng hoping that we would be rescued.
"Those shrieks from the women whose husbands were torn away from them, or where husband and wife were not
ready to leave each other, but wait until death would part them, are still piercing my ears," sadly spoke Miss Dowdell.
"Some of the women were hurled into the boats through the panic which had arisen. Much should be said for the noble
and heroic acts of part of the men, and should ever remain in the reminiscences of the history of the world. Many a
social leader or man of wealth grasped hold of the limbs of a laborer and sacrificed his life just to form the human
ladder where woman and child escaped from perishing.
"Oh, it was mournful," continued the survivor. "You folks cannot realize what an awful, dreadful sensation it wa sto
[sic] have stood on deck, which was some seventy feet from the level of the sea and call for help, receiving no
response, for the screaming of the many hundreds deadened any message that was delivered from perhaps a mother,
wife or sweetheart from her beloved one from above. One by one the boats were filled with sobbing women and
children, lowered and drifted away. Boat No. 13 was then lowered. By this time the people acted like maniacs. I myself
was ready to fight for life. A gentleman of refinement and culture with whom I became slightly acquainted, seemed to
show much attention to little Virginia, and at several occasions during our voyage had treated her very kindly.
"With Virginia in my arms, I was fairly pushed headlong, and was just about going to take the step which meant life or
death when I noticed this same gentleman gasping and in a desperate condition. As soon as he saw Virginia he braced
up and said, "See here, little girl; step on my face and be saved.' It was a noble act on his part, for he was dying as he
said those few last words.
"I will never forget him," cried Miss Dowdell, "for her did die nobly. Virginia was snatched away from me, but I
prayed mercifully for her, and thank God that one man cried, 'Let her have her child,' which saved me from perhaps
meeting the depths of the great sea, for I would have gone with Virginia. She was placed in my care and I felt in the
moment of distress that I was responsible for her safety.
"There were about seventy passengers aboard our boat. We were but ten feet above the water when we noticed
immediately below our boat was the exhaust of the condensers. Just above the water line a huge stream of water came
rushing from the ship's side. We became anxious, for we feared we would be swamped by the rush of water when we
touched the level of the sea. Down, down we went. The force of the swell of the sea carried us directly under boat No.
14, and it was fortunate for us that we weren't crushed to death, for she was swinging above our heads. One of the men,
however, managed to cut the ropes in time to escape the drop of No. 14 over our heads. As we rowed away from that
monster Titanic we gazed upon it continually. We were now about two miles from her and continued to row. It was
pitiful to listen to and watch the anxious women in our boat who were hoping to meet their loved ones on the ship who
would take them to safety. It was bitter cold, and most of us were numb and frozen from the manner in which we were
dressed. About two o'clock that morning we could notice the Titanic settling very rapidly, with the bows and the
bridge completely under water. In a few moments she was devoured by the great waters of the ocean. Oh, it was an
awful scene. These women and children whose every strength and vigor had been used to brace up and hope and pray
that they would meet again, were now left to witness the doom of their helpless men . “
"It was a bitter moment, which was followed by a noise which I shall never forget---the shrieking and cries of the
hundreds of our friends---for friends we were, after all, helping each other any way we could---struggling in the frozen
waters---and yet we could not answer them. Several of the people suggested that we should sing which would keep the
women from hearing these mournful groans, and it was with much effort that we sang, 'And We Parted on the Shore.'
We watched for the steamer's lights until we were exhausted. Ladies tore some of the fragments which clothed them
and lighted them as signals for help. Presently low down on the horizon we noticed lights, which were none other but
those of the Carpathia. With that the song 'Pull for the Shore, Boys' was sung. Although sad in spirit, it was the
gratitude which we felt that we joined in the chorus of weak voices. Rich and poor, learned and ignorant, all were alike
among us survivors. There weren't any rich---we were all poor. Furniture, costly and rare, gowns and luxuries
belonging to the wealthy were floating along the waters and finally swallowed by the waters.
"Many a proud, haughty, wealthy woman was only too glad to receive help. Women sewed blankets into garments and
did all in their power to help us on board the Carpathia.
"The saddest of the whole voyage was on board the Cunarder, it seems to me," continued Miss Dowdell. "You realize
there was hope for all, that their fellow men would meet them, but to think that the Carpathia was taking us further and
further away from the perished was beyond endurance. The many pitiful tales which were related are beyond
describing. We hated to gaze upon the waters of the sea. One woman with whom I became acquainted on board the
Carpathia was a Mrs. Abbott. This woman was the only survivor of one of the two boats which capsized. She hung to
the boat for five hours in spite of the arctic temperature. Three men likewise hung to the boat and pleaded that God
would save them.
"One man took his kerchief and waved it as a distress signal for help. From the exposure they became frozen and numb
and dropped off the boats like icicles, after crying and sobbing for help.
"There was a family of nine, and a happy family they seemed to be, who joined hands and faced death together. Many
people appeared half insane. One woman created quite some sensation. Her two sons and husband were drowned in
the disaster. This, it is believed, caused her to become weak mentally. She was presented with a beautiful steamer rug
as a farewell gift on her departure at Southampton, and everyone on the steamship Carpathia was cross examined, as it
were, by this woman as to the whereabouts of her rug, which, had she not been mentally affected, would have told her
had met the same fate as did the many hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of luxuries. It was indeed a sad case.
"Several Chinamen were clever in wrapping themselves snugly into blankets and thereby escaping and joined the
women and children who had been saved. One Swedish girl and her lover had planned to make this trip, intending to
become united in marriage in America. The sweetheart was saved, but the lover now lies in the sea. Another woman
that I remember seeing on several occasions previous to the catastrophe lost both husband and child. Her actions were
those of a maniac, and officers were obliged to lock her in a room for fear she would have done something desperate.
"I have crossed the ocean several times and travelled quite some, but in all my experience I have never met such a
combination of superstitious people as were found among the passengers of the Titanic. We thought it but a joke at the
time when arriving at Queenstown to have heard three sailors remark, 'They would not continue their contemplated
voyage on board the Titanic, for they had a dreadful fear of some disaster.' They got off at this stop and bade us
farewell. But how true it was, after all. Oh, there are so many stories to relate that to me it seems as though I were in a
dream."
Miss Dowdell was a brave young woman, and though somewhat nervous from her dreadful experience, who looked
remarkably well last evening. "Virginia is suffering from a dreadful cold," said the nurse; "in fact, almost all the
survivors have colds and coughs."
Mary Catherine “Kate” Gilnagh
Born: Monday 29th October 1894
Age: 17 years
Marital Status: Single.
3rd Class passenger
Destination: New York City New York United States
Rescued (boat 16)
Died: Monday 1st March 1971
Photograph taken shortly after the sinking.
Katie's parents would not believe that she survived until they received the photograph.
Miss Mary Katherine "Katie" Gilnagh, 16, from Co Longford, Ireland boarded the Titanic at Queenstown as a third
class passenger . She shared cabin 161 on E Deck with Katie Mullen, Kate and Mary Murphy.
Frank Goldsmith
Name: Master Frank John William Goldsmith ("Frankie")
Born: Friday 19th December 1902
Age: 9 years
Last Residence: in Stroud ,Kent, England
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 363291 , £20 10s 6d
Destination: Detroit Michigan United States
Rescued (boat C)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Wednesday 27th January 1982
Frank was born in Stroud, Kent, the eldest child of Frank John and Emily Alice (née Brown) Goldsmith. His father
was originally from Tonbridge. His parents married sometime between October and December 1901, and Frank
arrived the following December. He was joined by a younger brother, Albert John "Bertie" Goldsmith, in early 1905.
Bertie died in late 1911 of diphtheria.
Frank and his parents boarded the Titanic out of Southampton as third class passengers, en route to Detroit, Michigan.
Frank's father, a tool maker, was bringing his bag of tools with him, and these were stored in the ship's hold.
Accompanying the family were Frank Sr.'s friend, Thomas Theobald, and the son of a family friend, Alfred Rush.
Rush celebrated his sixteenth birthday on 14 April on board the ship, celebrating his transformation from a boy to a
man as he no longer had to wear knickers, but was now to wear long pants.
Frank spent his time on board the ship playing with a group of young English-speaking third class boys that were about
his age: William Johnston, Willie Coutts, Harold Goodwin, James and Walter van Billiard, and Albert and George
Rice. The boys climbed the baggage cranes and wandered down to the boiler rooms to watch the stokers and firemen at
work. Of these boys, only Frank and Willie Coutts would survive the sinking.
When the ship struck the iceberg, Frank Sr. woke his wife and son, and, together with Theobald and Rush, the group
made their way to the forward end of the Boat Deck, where Collapsible C was being loaded. There was a ring of
seamen standing around the boat, letting only women and children pass through. Frank wrote of the experience in his
book, Echoes in the Night: "Mother and I then were permitted through the gateway, and the crewman in charge
reached out to grasp the arm of Alfred Rush to pull him through because he must have felt that the young lad was not
much older than me, and he was not very tall for his age, but Alfred had not been stalling. He jerked his arm out of the
sailor's hand and with his head held high, said, and I quote, 'No! I'm staying here with the men.' At age 16, he died
a hero."
Thomas Theobald gave Mrs. Goldsmith his wedding ring, asking if she would give it to his wife if he did not survive.
Frank later recalled: "My dad reached down and patted me on the shoulder and said, ‘So long, Frankie, I’ll see you
later.’ He didn’t and he may have known he wouldn’t." Frank Goldsmith Sr., Thomas Theobald and Alfred Rush all
died in the sinking. Of the three, only Theobald's body was recovered.
Frank and his mother were rescued by the Carpathia in Collapsible C. As the Carpathia headed to New York City,
Emily Goldsmith entrusted her son into the care of one of the surviving firemen from the Titanic, Samuel Collins,
asking Collins if he would look after her son to get his mind off of the sinking. While his mother was busy sewing
clothing from blankets for women and children who had left the ship in only nightclothes, Frank accompanied Collins
down to visit the Carpathia's stokers, and the men offered to make Frank an honorary seaman by having him drink a
mixture of water, vinegar and a whole raw egg. Frank proudly swallowed it in one go, and from then on, considered
himself a part of the ship's crew. Frank remembered Collins telling him, "Don’t cry, Frankie, your dad will probably
be in New York before you are."
After arriving in New York, Frank and his mother were housed by the Salvation Army, which provided train fare to
reach their relatives in Detroit. He and his mother moved to a home near the newly opened Navin Field, home of the
Detroit Tigers. Every time the crowd cheered during a home run, the sound reminded him of the screams of the dying
passengers and crew in the water just after the ship sank; as a result Frank never took his children to baseball games.
Growing up, Frank still held on to the hope of his father's survival. It took him months to understand his father was
really dead, but for years afterward, he used to tell himself "I think another ship must have picked him up and one day
he will come walking right through that door and say, 'Hello, Frankie.'"
Frank married in 1926, and he and his wife, Victoria, had three sons
Frank served as a civilian photographer for the U.S. Air Force during World War II. After the war, he brought his
family to Ashland, Ohio, and later opened a photography supply store in nearby Mansfield, Ohio.
Frank wrote an autobiography entitled Echoes in the Night: Memories of a Titanic Survivor and published by the
Titanic Historical Society. Walter Lord wrote the foreword to the book, which is the only book written by a third class
passenger about the sinking.
Frank Goldsmith Jr. died at his home in 1982 at the age of 79. Several months after his death, on April 15, the
anniversary of the sinking of the Titanic, his ashes were scattered over the North Atlantic, above the place where the
Titanic rests, reuniting him with his father in death.
Manca Karun
Name: Miss Manca Karun
Born: 1907
Age: 4 years
Last Residence: in Milje Slovenia
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 349256 , £13 8s 4d
Destination: Galesburg United States
Rescued (boat 15)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Friday 17th September 1971
Frank Karun, center, survived the sinking of the Titanic,
with daughter Manca, second from left
GALESBURG MAN LED A CHARMED BUT HARROWING LIFE
The Titanic, which surpassed all rivals in luxury and opulence, began her maiden voyage from Southampton, England,
bound for New York City on April 12, 1912. Among the passengers were Frank Karun, his 4-year-old daughter Manca
and his wife’s brother-in-law. Karun was returning from his homeland after selling the family farm for $750, all of
which was lost when the Titanic sank. The threesome boarded the ill-fated Titanic at Cherbourg as third class
passengers. Karun related that he picked out the best boat so they could enjoy the trip back to America better.
It is probably becoming obvious that Frank Karun and his 4-year-old daughter, who were at the time Galesburg
residents, were two of the only 706 who survived the sinking of the Titanic. In fact, Karun was among only a few
males, as most survivors were women and small children.
Both the Galesburg Republican Register and the Galesburg Evening Mail published extensive descriptions of the
father and daughters experiences in surviving the tragedy that contained many errors and conflicting details because of
very difficult media communication problems during that time period.
Karun described in his broken English that he was asleep when the Titanic struck the iceberg. He was in the third class
sleeping room at the rear of the boat with his daughter and brother-in-law John Markum. When they quickly dressed
and got to the deck they could see the forward end of the boat was sinking. A lifeboat was lowered, perhaps the last
one, and Karun’s daughter was lowered first. Karun was the last to be lowered by rope, which greatly surprised him
since all the rest were women and children. There were 52 people on the rescue boat
Adele”Jane” Najib-Kiame
Name: Miss Adele "Jane" Najib Kiamie
Born: Saturday 14th November 1896
Age: 15 years
Marital Status: Single.
Last Residence: in Ash Shuwayr Lebanon
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2667 , £7 4s 6d
Destination: Brooklyn New York United States
Rescued (boat C)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Friday 8th February 1924
Adele Kiame was summoned by her father to join him in New York where he had started a silk-work company.
Adele left her hometown with a woman named Latife Beaaklini who also took her daughters with her, to follow her
husband who had opened a pharmacy in the United States.
Once news of the Titanic sinking reached them, Adele, Latife and her daughters went to deck and got on a rescue boat.
However, Adele decided to go back to try to rescue whatever she could of her belongings, including some amount of
money she had hidden in socks. She didn’t stop with at the socks. She tried to get some dresses and other belongings
with her. The crew refused and threw them all away. When Adele returned, the boat was full. So Latife started
shouting, as the boat was being lowered, for them to stop and let Adele on. She was screaming in Arabic. The crew
couldn’t understand and there was nothing they could do – the boat was already full.
Adele, stood stranded on deck: a 16 year old minor who didn’t know the language.
She caught the eye of the person you’d least expect: John Jacob Astor, the ship’s wealthiest man. So he carried Adele
and gave her to his bride whom he had secured on one of the recue boats. Astor’s wife then took off her coat and gave
it to Adele who was afraid and shivering.
Luise Gretchen Kink
Louise Gretchen Kink, bottom left, was a 4-year-old passenger aboard the Titanic. Also shown are
Randall’s grandmother, Louise, left, on the dock prior to boarding the ship, along with an
unrelated family.
Name: Miss Luise Gretchen Kink-Heilmann
Born: Wednesday 8th April 1908
Age: 4 years
Last Residence: in Zürich Switzerland
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 315153 , £22 6d
Destination: Milwaukee Wisconsin United States
Rescued (boat 2)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Tuesday 25th August 1992
Louise Gretchen Kink, bottom left, was a 4-year-old passenger aboard the Titanic. Also shown are Randall’s
grandmother, Louise, left, on the dock prior to boarding the ship, along with an unrelated family.
On 5 May 1908 she married Anton Kink, 22, from Mahrensdorf, Austria. Four weeks after the birth, on 8 April 1908,
of a daughter Luise. The couple lived at 66 Hornbachstrasse, Zürich until 31 March 1912.
Together with the Kink family were her husbands siblings Maria Kink and Vinzenz Kink. They all boarded the Titanic
at Southampton as third class passengers. She and her sister-in-law together with her daughter had a cabin at the stern.
Another three women were with them. It is possible that Josefine Arnold and Aloisia Haas were among them. Anton
and his brother Vinzenz had a cabin on G-Deck towards the bow together with Albert Wirz, Josef Arnold, Leo
Zimmermann and an unknown man from Bohemia.
On April 14th April her husband appeared after the collison, woke her, and told her what had happened. The women
dressed.
Anton looked for a life-preserver for his wife. Anton Kink and his family somehow managed to reach the Boat-Deck.
On their way, they lost his brother and sister in the crowd. His wife and daughter entered Lifeboat 2 but Anton had to
stay back. The boat was about to be lowered, when he jumped into the boat, when his wife and daughter cried out for
him. The Kinks in boat #2 were among the first to be rescued by the Carpathia. Anton Kink had lost everthing except
a few cheap Swiss cigarettes.
Anton Kink, his wife and his daughter went on to Milwaukee, Wisconsin where he gave an interview to the Milwaukee
Journal:
'A sailor took my child and handed her into one of them. My wife was also helped in by the sailors. I was touched
upon the shoulder and asked to step back, whereupon my wife and child cried at the top of their voices at my being left
behind. I ducked down, broke through those standing about and jumped into the boat as it was lowered.'
He leased a farm outside Milwaukee's. Luise was divorced in 1919. Luise Kink-Heilmann (mother) never learned
enough English to speak it well. She secluded herself more and more. Later she married a Mr .Kroepfl. She never
talked about her experience on that fateful night. If someone asked, she always said: "Why do you want to know
that?", and would burst into tears. However in 1974 she suddenly stated: "Being in the lifeboat, waiting for the
Carpathia, never had I thought, I would live to grow as old as I'm now."
Her daughter Luise took care of her till her death on 9 October 1979.
Meier Moor
Name: Master Meier Moor
Born: Tuesday 15th November 1904
Age: 7 years
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 392096 , £12 9s 6d
Cabin No.: [E] 121
Destination: Chicago Illinois United States
Rescued (boat 14)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Tuesday 15th April 1975
Master Meier Moor, 6, from Russia, boarded the Titanic at Southampton with his mother , Mrs. Beila Moor. Mrs.
Beila Moor, 27, a 'tailoress' from Russia, boarded the Titanic at Southampton with her son Master Meier Moor. They
were originally to travel on the Adriatic but were transferred because of the coal strike. Their ticket was number
392096 (£12, 9s) and their cabin was E-121.
Biela had lost her husband several years before when he had gone to war and the mother and son had previously
travelled to America months earlier to live with relatives but discovered the family had moved.
Meyer recalled that he passed the time on-board by asking adults to save for him the cards, some illustrated
with cowboys and Indians, that came in their cigarette packs.
After the collision, Beila recalled, they were jostled up a stairway onto the Boat Deck where she and her son were able
to join a lifeboat. As Meyer watched the ship sink he mostly missed his lost cigarette cards.
After their rescue by the Carpathia Beila and Meier passed through immigration (see photo) at New York and thence
onto Canada. Later they moved to Chicago and Beila remarried. In America their names became Bella and Meyer.
Meyer married Henrietta in 1937 and, on account of her arthritis they moved to El Paso. Meyer worked as a jobber
buying merchandise for wholesalers. He was a genial, social man who apparently loved parties but always refused to
go on boat trips.
As an old man Meyer was a fatalist "If you're born to be hanged, you'll never be drowned or shot".
Bella died in the 1960s and Meyer on 15 April 1975, the 63rd anniversary of the sinking .
Catherine "Kate" Murphy (18)
Name: Miss Catherine "Kate" Murphy
Born: Wednesday 13th September 1893
Age: 18 years
Marital Status: Single.
Last Residence: in Fostragh Ireland
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Queenstown on Thursday 11th April 1912
Ticket No. 367230 , £15 10s
Destination: Philadelphia Pennsylvania United States
Rescued (boat 16)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Tuesday 24th September 1968
Catherine "Kate" Murphy from Ireland, was one of thirteen children born to Michael Murphy and Mary Lyons.
Catherine's mother was often sick, and her father had died when they were young, so their oldest brother was head of
the family. He was very overbearing and gave the girls little freedom. Catherine, and her elder sister Margaret Jane had
two sisters and a brother already living in America and they wished to go also; but their brother would not permit them
to.
Their neighbors bought third class tickets for themselves on the Titanic, and then secretly bought tickets for Kate and
Margaret as well. When the boys left for Queenstown Kate and Margaret came with them, pretending that they were
planning just to see them off on their journey to America. Kate and Margaret Murphy boarded the Titanic at
Queenstown as third class passengers. Catherine and Margaret shared cabin 161 on E-deck with Kate Gilnagh and
Kate Mullen.
Later Catherine and Margaret would talk about how being on the Titanic was one of the greatest things that they had
ever been able to do. They remembered having particularly enjoyed parties in the third class public rooms.
On the night of the sinking, Kate and Margaret were getting ready for bed when their neighbors came to their room to
tell them what had happened. Neither of them had felt the impact and didn’t realize anything was amiss. On their way
to the lifeboats Kate and Margaret, as well as Kate Gilnagh and Kate Mullen were held back at a gate by a determined
crewman. They were allowed through when James Farrell yelled "Great God, man! Open the gate and let the girls
through!" The crewman complied. Kate and Margaret eventually found their way, after being separated from Kate
Gilnagh, to the Boat Deck where they were helped into(probably) lifeboat 16.
Jamila Nicola-Yarred
Elias Nicola-Yarred
Name: Miss Jamila ("Amelia Garrett") Nicola-Yarred
Master Elias ("Louis Garrett")
Nicola-Yarred
Born: Friday 15th April 1898
Monday 16th April 1900
Age: 14 years
11 years
Last Residence: in Al Hakur Lebanon
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2651 , £11 4s 10d
Destination: Jacksonville Florida United States
Rescued (boat C)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Sunday 8th March 1970
Saturday 30th May 1981
Miss Jamila Nicola-Yarred, 14, from Hakoor, Lebanon was travelling with her brother Elias to Jacksonville, Florida .
Jamila's father had been forced to stay behind during boarding in France because of an eye infection. They boarded
the Titanic at Cherbourg as third class passengers.
On the night of the sinking Jamila and her brother had gone to bed. After feeling a bump she became concerned about
noises she was hearing outside their cabin and asked her brother to investigate. He was at first disinterested but Jamila
was insistent and so the two children left their cabin and followed others to the Boat Deck. On deck she remembered
the $500 given to her by her father for the trip, they headed back down to the cabin but found that water was filling the
passageway and prevented her from opening the door. They returned to deck where they were allowed into (probably)
collapsible C.
Jamila were taken to Halifax, Nova Scotia by their uncle immediately following the Titanic disaster. They stayed with
their uncle in Nova Scotia until their father was able to get them after he sailed from France about a month later. The
family then relocated to Jacksonville, Florida and their names were anglicized - Elias became Louis Nicholas Garrett
and Jamila became Amelia Garrett.
At the age of just 16 Amelia married Isaac A. Isaac (died 1942) they had seven children.
TALES from the TITANIC
By Meredith Tibbetts, Staff Reporter of The Sun Chronicle
MASHANTUCKET, CONN. - Rough hands grabbed Jamila Nicola-Yarred around the waist and hauled her
unceremoniously over the railing of the ship. Her younger brother Elias was forced to let go of her hand and remained
behind on the not-so unsinkable Titanic.
"Elias! My brother!" Jamila, 14, cried in stuttering English, tugging on the sleeve of the man who pulled her onto the
lifeboat. The crewman glanced at her and then grabbed for her 12-year-old brother.
As Elias landed next to her, Jamila wrapped her arms around him as much for comfort as warmth. She watched a man
drop a screaming infant into a mail bag and hand it over the railing to a crying mother seated near her. Their fingers
briefly clasped as the lifeboat started to lower.
Jamila's father had been forced to stay behind during boarding in France because of an eye infection. She wondered,
shivering in her jacket, how he would find out his two children were alive. The lifeboat lurched slightly and the icy
cold water pelted her skin.
Looking up, Jamila couldn't help but be in awe of the massive ship. Her father had been so proud to be part of the
maiden voyage, and now the once mighty king of the sea was dying, and bringing down with it hundreds and hundreds
of passengers.
I Survived the Sinking of the Titanic
by Elias Nicola-Yarred as told to his nephew
IT BEGAN while I was visiting my elderly parents and uncle in , Florida. This was shortly before my uncle died a few
months ago. As usual, we went to the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses on Sunday morning to attend a public talk.
We heard a fine discourse, "Will You Be a Survivor of the 'Last Days'?" On the way home, my uncle said: "That talk
reminded me of when I survived a terrible disaster." He paused a moment, then added: "You know, I survived the
sinking of the Titanic."
Later I asked my uncle, Louis Garrett, to tell me about his experience on the Titanic.
"Let me go back to the beginning," he said. "I was born in 1900, in Hakoor, Lebanon, a small mountain village about
80 to 90 miles (130 to 140 km) north of Beirut. My family owned and operated a water-powered stone mill that ground
wheat into flour. My father was the village miller. It was decided that the family would migrate to the United States. In
1904 my mother and my two sisters left Lebanon. Later, in 1906, my older brother left for the United States. It was in
1912, to complete the family migration, that my father, my sister and I were to leave for the United States.
"In March 1912, we sailed to Marseilles, France. While there, we booked passage on the Titanic to sail on its maiden
voyage to New York. The date of its sailing was April 10, 1912. My father had to be left behind in Marseilles because
he could not pass the required physical examination due to an eye infection." My uncle smiled and exclaimed: "A very
fortunate turn of events for him!"
"My sister was 14 years old," he continued, "and I was 12 when we boarded the Titanic. We were saddened to leave
my father behind, but were excited about being on board the R.M.S. Titanic, the largest, fastest and most luxurious
ship of its time-and also said to be unsinkable! There were over 2,200 people on board, including some of the
wealthiest and most influential people of that time. Many were on the Titanic to celebrate its maiden voyage. It was the
"in" thing to do for the socially prominent. The ship's speed was as expected. The anticipated arrival in New York was
to be Wednesday, April 17. The water was calm, the weather typically chilly for April.
"On Sunday, April 14, our fifth day at sea, the weather turned exceptionally cold-so bitterly cold that not many people
were out on the promenade deck. We heard that there were warnings of icebergs in the area. None were expected to be
sighted on the ship's course, so the Titanic maintained full speed ahead. However, the captain of the Californian,
another ship in the North Atlantic, radioed a warning to the Titanic about icebergs being sighted in our path. This was
ignored. The price paid for overconfidence on the part of Captain Smith, nearly 700 fellow crewmen and over 800
passengers, was indeed very high.
"At approximately 11:45 p.m. Sunday, April 14, my sister and I were awakened with a jolt. She was in the upper berth
of the cabin and screamed, 'Something's wrong!'
"'Go back to sleep,' I called to her. 'You worry too much.' Soon an elderly man, whom we had met on board and who
took a fatherly interest in us, came to our cabin and said calmly: 'Come out of your cabin and go to the upper deck.
Don't bother about taking your belongings for now. You'll get them later.'
"We had steerage-class tickets, meaning we could go up to the second-class deck. But those on second-class and
steerage could not pass through a guarded gate that led to the first-class upper deck. However, we were told it
would be wise to get to the first-class upper deck in order to have a better chance of getting into a lifeboat. The
only way this could be done was to climb an iron ladder from the steerage deck below up five or six decks to the
lifeboats above. This we did with much difficulty, for it was hard for my sister to climb the iron ladder. But
with help from others we made it.
"What a sight! Most of the lifeboats were gone. The crew was permitting women and children only to board the
lifeboats-there were not enough for everyone. We saw women crying, not wanting to leave their husbands; husbands
begging their wives and children to hurry and get into the lifeboats. Amid this complete pandemonium and mass
hysteria stood my sister and I, two immigrant children, unable to speak English, frightened beyond belief, crying and
looking for help.
"The last lifeboat was being loaded. A middle-aged gentleman was with his very young, pregnant wife. He helped her
into the lifeboat, then looked back to the deck and saw others wanting to get aboard. He kissed his wife good-bye, and,
returning to the deck, grabbed the first person in his path. Fortunately, I was there in the right place at the right time
and he put me into the lifeboat. I screamed for my sister who had frozen from fright. With the help of others, she also
was pushed into the lifeboat. Who was the gallant man who performed this kind act? We were told he was John Jacob
Astor IV. At that time he was 45 years old and his wife, Madeleine, was 19. They were traveling to the United States
because they wanted their child to be born there. Many newspaper stories were written that told how John Jacob Astor
gave up his life for a young immigrant. The Astor family records indicate that, according to Mrs. Astor, Mr. Astor had
words with a crewman who tried to prevent him from helping his wife into the lifeboat. He did so anyway. And, as I
said, he kissed her and, returning to the deck, began helping others into the lifeboat.
"I was happy to be in the lifeboat, but I still had a feeling of sorrow for the ones left on the Titanic. Looking back at that
big, beautiful ship, I could see it from a different perspective and, with some of the lights still on, I could see the size
and beauty of the ship. In the stillness of the night and with sound traveling so well over water, we could hear the band
playing on deck and people singing 'Nearer My God to Thee.' The crew rowed away from the ship as far as they could.
There were fears that a suction would develop when it made its final plunge into the ocean depths. That did not
happen, nor was there an explosion as some thought there would be. The waters were unusually calm that night and it
was a good thing, for most of the lifeboats were loaded down with people.
"The Titanic sank about 2:20 a.m. April 15, 1912, according to the records. I saw it slide down into the ocean to its
horrible finish. The moment it sank left a memory of something that haunts me till this day. It was the eerie sound of
the people groaning and screaming frantically for help, as they were hurtled into the icy water. Almost all died from
the cold water. The sounds lasted for about 45 minutes and then faded away."
My uncle was quiet for a while, remembering. He then continued: "An SOS had been sent out about midnight. It was
received by the S.S. Carpathia of the Cunard White Star Line. It was about 58 miles (93 km) away and immediately
turned around from its course, which was heading for Gibraltar, and proceeded full steam ahead to the rescue. It
arrived at about 4:30 a.m. Interestingly, the S.S. Californian was only 20 miles (32 km) away from the spot where the
Titanic sank, but the radio operator did not pick up the SOS signal because he was off duty. Later reports showed that
the Californian did see flares in the night, but thought the passengers on the Titanic were shooting fireworks in
celebration of the maiden voyage.
"The Carpathia completed the rescue operations about 8:30 a.m. Our lifeboat was among the last to be rescued. After
being taken aboard, bundled up, given hot tea and made comfortable, I was happy to be alive, even though I had a coat
and shoes much too large.
"Later the captain of the Carpathia called all the survivors to come on deck and see the iceberg. My 12-year-old mind
recorded it as being as high as a two-story house, much wider and with a huge chimney. The ship delivered us to New
York before continuing its trip to Gibraltar, a very kind act on the part of the management of the Cunard White Star
Line. We arrived in New York at 8:30 p.m., Thursday, April 18, and were taken to the Cunard White Star docks.
"Looking back at those long hours in the lifeboat, it now seems miraculous that we reached the safety of the Carpathia
. The bitter cold was almost unbearable. We huddled together to keep warm. People were kind to one another. I
remember how windy it was there on the deck of the Carpathia . The winds had picked up to several knots per hour.
Fortunately the winds held off just long enough for the rescue mission. Had the waters not remained calm and smooth
during that time, it is doubtful that the rescue operations would have been so successful."
"Did any in the lifeboats die?" I asked.
"I only know of one person in our lifeboat who died from the cold. The body was wrapped in a sheet and slipped
overboard.” "Were there any men in your lifeboat?" "Only women and children, as ordered by the crew, with the
exception of a few crew members who served as oarsmen. There was one young couple with a baby who 'put one over'
on the crew. The wife was very shrewd; she dressed her young husband as a woman, covered his head with a shawl and
gave him the baby. He was in one lifeboat and she was in ours. Both were rescued by the Carpathia .
"On our arrival in New York, we expected to be taken to Ellis Island to clear immigration procedures. However, this
was waived because of the pain and suffering already endured by the survivors. We were turned over to the Red Cross
to be united with our families. My older brother, Isaac, was in New York and our meeting was mixed with joy and
sadness. My father was still in France. However, we concluded that had he been on the Titanic with us, he would not
have survived because of the women-and-children-only rule. Maybe even our being survivors would have been
affected. We would have found it hard to leave Dad on board the Titanic and be seeking our own safety. Fortunately
for him, he arrived safely three months later on another ship."
My uncle paused, lost in thoughts of that terrible ordeal. "One more event in my life stands out. It was in 1949 that I
was financially able to make a trip I had dreamed of for many years. In Lebanon, I had an older half brother with whom
I wanted to visit and share the Kingdom hope. On the flight back to Lebanon, our route took us over Greenland and
also very nearly over the spot where the Titanic sank. I was overcome by my emotions while looking down on the cold
Atlantic waters and reflecting on that sad occasion.
"A stewardess, noticing the tears streaming down my face, leaned over quietly, patted my arm and asked: 'Is there
anything wrong? May I help?' I responded: 'No, I was just thinking of when I was a young lad 12 years old. I was on a
great ship, the Titanic that went down and lost over 1,500 lives in those very waters below. I still can't forget that
frantic morning and the cries for help that came from the darkness and those icy waters.' 'How sad,' said the pretty
dark-haired stewardess. 'I remember reading about the Titanic disaster.'
Artur Karl Olsen
Name: Master Artur Karl Olsen
Born: Friday 6th February 1903
Age: 9 years
Last Residence: in Trondheim Norway
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 17368 , £3 3s 5d
Destination: Brooklyn New York United States
Rescued (boat 13)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Wednesday 1st January 1975
Master Artur Karl Olsen, 9, was born 6 February 1903 on Henry Street, Brooklyn, New York of Norwegian parents
Karl Siegwart Andreas Olsen and Ragna Nilsen. After his mother's death in 1906, his father, Karl Olsen, took him to
Trondheim, Norway to live with the boy's grandmother, Anna Andersen.
Carl Siegwart returned to America where he remarried to Ester (Esther), who was of Swedish origin. They lived on
400 Suydam Avenue, Ridgewood, Central Brooklyn (? 987 Hart St., Brooklyn, New York).
Artur's grandmother died in 1911 so Carl Siegwart travelled back to Trondheim to take Artur back with him to New
York. He and his son were originally booked on the Philadelphia but they were transferred to Titanic which they
boarded at Southampton as third class passengers. Father and son probably shared a cabin with Fridtjof Madsen with
whom they had travelled from Trondheim via Newcastle.
After the collision Karl Siegwart carried his almost sleeping son to lifeboat 13 and said to him that he should be a good
boy, and that he would soon come back to him, however Karl was lost in the sinking. Fridtjof Madsen was standing
nearby and probably also entered the boat at this time. He was said to have been rescued from the water but boat 13 did
not pick up anyone from the water.
In New York Artur's stepmother did not know that her husband and stepson had been on board the Titanic. He was met
in New York by Mrs William K. Vanderbilt, and she drove him to "Lis a day nursery" on Manhattan Island. On 19
April he met his stepmother for the first time, and she brought him home to her house on Suydam Avenue. Relief funds
raised after the tragedy helped to pay his "school money".
Ester later remarried to William Reichart and together they had a daughter Alvira who was born in 1916. Artur then
lived together with them on 911 Avenue P, Brooklyn. For a while Artur was in the navy, and in later life he held a
succession of different jobs, finally settling as a house painter in St. Petersburg , Florida. His last years were spent
living at 701 Avenue North.
Artur anglicized his name to Arthur Carl Olsen. He had a brief, unhappy marriage, from which there were no children.
He died 1 January 1975 leaving no immediate relatives. He was buried from Northeast Chapel at Royal Palms
Cemetery, St. Petersburg, Florida.
Johan Svensson
Name: Johan Cervin Svensson
Born: Saturday 5th March 1898
Age: 14 years
Last Residence: in Knäred Halland Sweden
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 7538 , £9 4s 6d
Destination: Beresford South Dakota United States
Rescued (boat 13)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Saturday 4th July 1981
Mr. Johan Cervin Svensson, 14, was born 5 March 1898 the son of Sven Peter Johansson and Elisabeth Jönsdotter, he
had six siblings, Anna, Jenny, John, Leonard, Reinhold and Gösta and lived at Knäred, Halland, Sweden.
Johan Cervin Svensson was the eldest son, Anna and Ellen were older. His father and Jenny had gone to Alcester,
Beresford, South Dakota, USA in 1911 and the rest of the family was intending to follow. When Johan was ready to go
his mother sewed 15 Kr into his jacket lining as spare cash.
He boarded the Titanic at Southampton as a third class passenger . He later recalled that when the Titanic was sinking
he sneaked onto the first class boat deck and after being refused twice finally got into lifeboat 13, the third boat he tried
to enter.
On board the Carpathia he was at first thought to be a first class passenger but looking upon his clothes it was realized
that was not possible and he was sent down to join the other steerage passengers. In New York he was met by his uncle
Isak Johnson.
Once he got to South Dakota he changed his name to John C. Johnson and worked as a farmhand. At some point he
travelled on to Michigan and later Kentucky before finally settling in Long Beach, California, where he worked as a
ship welder.
Thelma Thomas
Assad Thomas
Name: Mrs. Thamine “Thelma”
Thomas Master Assad Alexander Thomas/Tannous
Born: Wednesday 25th December 1895 Wednesday 8th November 1911
Age: 16 years
5 months and 7 days.
Last Residence: in Hardin Lebanon
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2625 , £8 10s 4d
Destination: Wilkes Barre Pennsylvania United States
Rescued (boat 14)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Monday 7th January 1974
Friday 12th June 1931
Mrs Alexander Thomas (Thamine "Thelma" ~) (1), 16, was born 25 December 1895 in the Lebanon.
She boarded the Titanic at Cherbourg with her 5 month old son Assad and her brother Charles. Travelling as third class
passengers Thamine and her son held ticket No. 2625, price £8, 10s, 4d. Mrs Thomas and her son her husband (his
father) in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania.
Thamine and her son became separated during the sinking and Charles carried the baby to lifeboat 16. He begged for
the child to be rescued and Winnie Troutt took it upon herself to take the child into the lifeboat. Meanwhile Thamine
boarded another lifeboat (? #14 or C).
Mrs. Alexander Thomas, another survivor, told a thrilling story. She became separated from her 6-months-old child in
the confusion and refused to get into a boat. Finally an officer told her that another woman had saved the baby. Mrs.
Thomas finally found her child among the survivors on the Carpathia.
Woman's mother, uncle and brother were on Titanic
By SAM GALSKI (Staff Writer) Published: October 1, 2011
Mae Thomas, whose mother, uncle and brother were on board the Titanic the night it sank, was the guest speaker as
The Passion Projects LLC hosted a special dinner at the Stage Coach Inn in Butler Township on Friday evening. The
theme for the meal was "Last Dinner on the Titanic", during which patrons were served the same five-course meal
served to passengers of the ill-fated liner on the night it sank.
Eighty-six-year-old Mae Thomas recalls the first time she shared a story about her mother and infant brother surviving
the sinking of the Titanic.
"I was 6 years old and I went to the school teacher and told her my mom was a survivor from the Titanic," Thomas said
Friday at a dinner event in Drums. "I was in history class and my teacher didn't believe me."
When school let out that day, Mae's teacher showed up at her Stanton Street home in Wilkes-Barre and asked Mae's
mother if the story was true.
"My mother told her, 'My daughter does not lie. I am a survivor,'" Mae said.
Mae shared her mother's gripping account of surviving the nearly century-old tragedy Friday at a "Last Dinner on the
Titanic" event at the Stage Coach Inn in Butler Township.
More than 30 people attended the gathering, which was organized by a historical entertainment company known as
The Passion Projects.
Mae took the audience back to the late night hours of April 14, 1912, when an ocean liner billed as "unsinkable" struck
an iceberg on its maiden voyage from England to New York.
Within three hours, the ship was completely submerged in the frigid waters of the Atlantic, killing more than 1,500
people.
Mae's mother, Thelma Thomas; her uncle, Charles Thomas, and her 3-month-old brother, Assid, boarded the Titanic
from a port in France.
They didn't speak English, but were headed to America from Lebanon to meet up with Mae's father and other family
members who were preparing to open a business in Wilkes-Barre.
Mae's uncle got word that the ship struck an iceberg during the early morning hours of April 15, 1912. He immediately
went to her mother's room and told her to dress herself and Mae's infant brother in warm clothes.
A horrific scenario unfolded as they made their way to the lifeboats on the upper deck.
Unable to speak English, the only thing Mae's mother could do was cling to Charles, who was holding onto her infant
brother.
In the chaos of loading people onto lifeboats, a crew member lifted Mae's mother onto a lifeboat - separating her from
Charles and her son.
She called out for the little boy as the boat was lowered to the water, but crews could not understand her pleas.
"She was crying in Arabic for her baby," Mae said.
Realizing he couldn't get Assid to his mother, Charles handed him off to a woman (Mrs. Edwina Trout McKenzie) in
a different lifeboat.
Unsure of the fate of her baby, Thelma went into shock.
"She could remember screaming in the night and the band playing," Mae said.
Assid and Thelma survived the ordeal, but Charles died.
Thelma spent three months in a New York hospital and when she finally regained her senses, she reconnected with her
son - who was wrapped in the same blanket he had on the night the ship sank.
Her brother passed away at 21 of pneumonia. Mae's father died at the age of 46 from the similar complications, leaving
Thelma to raise Mae and eight other brothers and sisters from the same Stanton Street house that Mae calls home
today.
Over the years, Mae said she has shared her family's story at schools, museums and similar dinner events and even got
the opportunity to meet with other survivors over the years.
Mae said she jumped at the chance to serve as guest speaker on Friday, saying she's familiar with similar functions
arranged by the entertainment company in Wilkes-Barre over the past few years.
In 1972 I 'reunited' Mae's mother with the woman who had saved her infant son on the Titanic. Mrs. Edwina Trout
McKenzie was a guest on the "Today" program on NBC and recalled her experiences as a survivor of the Titanic
disaster. I had interviewed Mrs.
Thomas a few days before and learned how her brother-in-law had handed her baby to a woman in another life boar.
Mrs. McKenzie told of having someone hand her a baby and I literally got chills thinking it might have been Mrs.
Thomas' son. I called NBC which was eventually able to get Mrs McKenzie on the phone with Mrs. Thomas. Mrs.
McKenzie remembered the blanket that was wrapped around the band and, indeed, it had been Mrs. Thomas son.
While the two never did meet in person they wrote to each other and were thus 'reunited. I was happy to have played a
part in this story and to have been associated with Mrs Thomas and her wonderful daughter Mae. We have recalled this
story on many occasions and it's especially important now to recall such instances since all of the survivors of the
Titanic are now gone and their stories and memories have been entrusted to us.
Maria Youssef Touma
and Georges Youssef Touma
Name: Miss Maria Youssef Touma
Georges Youssef Touma
(Mary Thomas)
(George Thomas)
Born: Thursday 16th October 1902
Tuesday 9th February 1904
Age: 9 years
8 years
Last Residence: in Tibnin Lebanon
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Cherbourg on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 2650 , £15 4s 11d
Destination: Dowagiac Michigan United States
Rescued (boat C)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Wednesday 12th August 1953
Monday 9th December 1991
Maria and Georges Touma
Anna Touma clutched the precious slip of paper to her heart. Dowagiac, Michigan, it read. The twenty-seven year
old Lebanese woman had no idea where this was or how to get there, all she knew was that was where her beloved
husband was, and that he had sent her the money for the family to finally be reunited.
In reality, the money had actually been sent to the Toumas - Anna and her children Maria, 9, and Georges, 8 - by their
uncle Abraham, who labored along with his brother Darwin in the onion fields of Dowagiac, Michigan, trying to save
up enough money to bring their relatives over from Lebanon to the New World of America. After seven years of little
success, the prospect of Darwin ever seeing his family again looked very bleak indeed. Wanting to surprise him,
Abraham sent some money over to Anna and the children, as well as a piece of paper saying where to find her
husband.
Elated, Anna wasted no time selling her meagre personal belongings and the hut she lived in. To get to Cherbourg,
France, where they would board the 'unsinkable' Titanic, they spent many exhausting, dusty days traveling by camel
caravan beneath the blazing desert sun. By night, they slept in tents and had meals of yogurt, cheese and olives stuffed
in pocket bread and seasoned with onions and garlic. During the evenings, the travellers whisked their struggles away
by dancing to the beat of goatskin drums and the warble of flutes. Everyone, even little Maria and George, whirled
about in circles as the men flung their handkerchiefs into the night sky flecked with the same stars that would stare
pitilessly down upon the sinking Titanic days later.
Eventually, 'we, and all those of us from my village boarded a train in France,' Anna recalls, 'and the children ran
through all of the cars to see if there were any other children on the train besides the ones traveling with the villagers.'
There were, but Maria and George reported to their mother how the children spoke languages that they could not
understand. However, like any children, brother and sister found ways to entertain themselves throughout the long
ride.
Maria and George loved the Titanic with its endless maze of corridors and staircases, and so many rooms to explore.
Although, like most other Lebanese immigrants, the Toumas were in third class, which offered meagre accomodations
compared to the splendor enjoyed by the rich, the children whiled away the long days at sea racing through the
hallways and camping out in empty rooms. George remembers with fondness an unoccupied cabin right beside their
own in which he and Maria played. Perhaps they met up with other Lebanese children, such as Akar (9) and Nourelain
Boulos (7), who were lost, or Gerios (7) and Halim (4) Moubarek, saved.
Anna, on the other hand, was extremely nervous about her children getting lost in the steerage labyrinth, and
rightfully so - the Titanic, a ship physically designed to keep the rich from ever meeting up with the poor, was a jungle
of locked iron gates and dead-end corridors meant to separate the third class from the upper classes. Although not
intentionally designed to be a safety hazard, the irrational design of the third-class areas was undoubtedly a vital factor
in the amount of steerage lives lost.
Late that fateful night, Anna was beside herself with worry. George, after a rowdy day of traipsing the ship, had
returned to the cabin heavy with sleep, but little Maria was missing. Whilst standing in the doorway of her cabin
asking one of her fellow Lebanese men if he had seen her daughter, a tremendous jolt racked the ship, followed by the
ominous sound of splintering ice. The impact thrust the door shut, slicing Anna's trapped hand along the index finger.
The panic rising inside her like a caged bird struggling to flap its way to freedom, she hurried down the corridor to the
infirmary to get her hand bandaged. All around her immigrants were leaving their cabins, some just as flustered and
confused as she was, others dreadfully solemn. Some men from her village reported that the ship had struck an
iceberg. They were instructed, not to try and save themselves, but to return to their cabins and pray for mercy.
The fact that the third-class was abandoned and left to fend for themselves in this way may be hard to
understand. There are many reasons so many third-class were lost, but perhaps the neglect of the crew
members is the most tragically disturbing. It boils down to the simple, glaring fact that the crew of the Titanic and, sadly, most of the world in 1912 - believed the rich more worthy of saving than the poor. No matter how
they tried to deny it during testimonies and trials after the sinking, the truth remains that not so many third
class would be lost if the officers had alerted them half an hour earlier, when the first and second classes were
warned of the danger, and if stewards had gone own to the lower decks to help them find their way up. Without
assistance from the crew, it was nearly impossible for non-English passengers to maneuver their way up
through the maze of corridors, and by the time they reached the boat deck, it was too late for many.
Anna was no fool. Although she had no idea what would become of her, she wasn't going to sit around and wait for
help that may never come. As she recalled, "They want me to pray. That I will do, but I better find out what I have to
pray about." With the intention of returning to find Maria once she had a clear view of the damage the iceberg had
caused, Anna braved the treacherous obstacle course ahead of her, George in hand. Once on deck, a sight so dramatic
it would haunt her for the rest of her years met Anna's eyes. This was the sight of rickety lifeboats, full to bursting with
the rich and famous, lowering perilously towards the glassy black sea, the sight of decks packed with elegantly dressed
ladies and gentlemen complaining over the so-called 'delay.' The truth hit the young Lebanese immigrant at once: if
the well-respected were being roused from their beds and cast off into the fathomless ocean, the end had truly come.
Frightened as Anna was, she knew she could not leave the ship without her daughter. Leaving George alone amongst
the crowds with the instructions to remain right where she had left him, Anna braved the swiftly flooding lower decks
to search for her daughter. One can only imagine her mingled relief, hysteria and anger when she found that Maria had
been sleeping in the spare stateroom beside their cabin the entire time! Rubbing her eyes wearily, the little girl
innocently asked what all the commotion was about. Struck by hysterics, Anna exclaimed, "Maria, get dressed quick!
George is way up on the top deck; we must run as fast as we can because he is all alone up there!" Hurriedly Maria
was stuffed into her coat and rushed from the stateroom. Realizing the tremendous peril they were in now, Anna
paused only to snatch up the cherished piece of paper bearing her husband's address. Without it, they would be all
alone in a new world, helpless and lonely - if they managed to make it off the Titanic at all.
As Anna, dragging Maria along with her, hurried up a staircase leading away from the steerage area, she was shocked
by a deafening bang below her. Although she did not stop to ponder why, the frightening truth was that the gates
to third class had been locked by crewmen. If they had been a second too late, mother and daughter would have
been trapped below. For the crew, it was an everyday routine to make sure the gates between third and second
class were locked, to prevent the spread of diseases from the 'dirty' immigrants to the 'clean' upper class. With
haunting solemness the same routine was being carried out even as icy seawater washed away the lower decks
of the Titanic, dooming some of the Touma's fellow villagers to a terrible death. For Anna and Maria, this terrible
event was only a heartbeat of their panicked race up to the lifeboats - the action that would doom hundreds of poor
passengers was over in a fleeting second.
Up on the boat deck, the situation was getting worse and worse. As crowds milled about in confusion, the ominous
certainty of their fate growing clearer with every tense second, the bow was dropping lower and lower. Only a rickety
collapsible lifeboat with canvas sides was left before the hundreds of passengers would have to make the terrifying
climb up to the rising stern, where three more lifeboats awaited. Miraculously, unlike so many other mothers and
children, Anna and Maria were reunited with young George exactly where he had been left. The eight-year old was in
tears, sobbing over how crewmembers had tried to place him in lifeboats but 'he would not leave without Mama.'
Anna Sofia Turja
Name: Miss Anna Sofia Turja
Born: Tuesday 20th June 1893
Age: 18 years
Marital Status: Single.
Last Residence: in Oulainen Finland
3rd Class passenger
First Embarked: Southampton on Wednesday 10th April 1912
Ticket No. 4138 , £9 16s 10d
Destination: Ashtabula Ohio United States
Rescued (boat 15)
Disembarked Carpathia: New York City on Thursday 18th April 1912
Died: Monday 20th December 1982
Miss Anna Sofia Turja, 18, was born on 20 June 1893 and grew up in Oulainen, Oulu, Finland, the daughter of Heikki
Turja and Sanna Hakala. Between this and another marriage Heikki had 21 children in total.
Anna was tempted to America by promise of a job with John Lundi the husband of her half-sister Maria in Ashtabula,
OH. A brother, Matt Turja, lived in Conneaut, Ohio. Anna mailed a letter to her sister on 3 April 1912 from Hangö
(also spelt Hanko) - a port and the Southernmost town in Finland - stating that she and about 100 other Finns were
about to sail from there to make connections with the Titanic (Mrs. Lundi received the letter on April 18th).
Anna boarded the Titanic in Southampton and traveled in third class. She shared a room with Maria Panula, her
children and neighbor Sanni Riihivuori.
The women were all in the room when the Titanic struck the iceberg. Anna, who was woken by the collision, described
it as like a shudder. Anna thought that there was something wrong with the engines. She got up and slowly dressed
herself. The other women did the same thing. The brother of one of the women came to their cabin and told them that
something was wrong and that they should wear warm clothing and put on their life jackets: 'Get up or soon you will
be at the bottom of the ocean.'
Anna was not scared, but others were and she said some of them fainted. No one hurried to get dressed or go up on
deck. She returned to the cabin and saw Maria Panula dressing her sleepy and crying children in a hopeless and
panicky state: 'We will never get away from here alive", "Do we all have to die by water?'
Maria had lost a teenage son to drowning back in Finland.
As they made they way towards the deck a seaman tried to bar their way but Anna and her party refused to obey. He
didn’t stop to argue with them but the doors were closed and chained behind them to prevent others from coming up.
'We were not told what had happened, and had to do our own thinking.'
It was, she said, pure chance that they emerged on the boat deck. They could hear the band playing although Anna was
unable to identify any of the tunes. The language barrier - she spoke no English - made the situation more difficult for
her. She recalled that generally the Finns did not panic and that many had gathered in "the music room" [sic] on the
deck to listen to music. As late as half past twelve in the night Anna had been listening to music.
Anna was rescued, probably in lifeboat 15
As they pulled away from the ship Anna heard loud explosions and saw the lights, which had until then been burning
brightly, go out. The lifeboat was close to the Titanic when it sank. The moaning and calling for help were awful, she
later described the cries in the water: "finally it was almost like an hymn, you could hear" which continued for what
she thought was two or three hours. She was told they couldn't go back to rescue swimmers because there the boat was
full. In the boat, men and women burned hats and other items so that the other lifeboats would see them and keep close
together.
On the Carpathia, she talked with a Finnish man who claimed to have been in the water for six hours. He claimed that
there had been some shooting as the Titanic went down and that he had just escaped being shot for trying to get into a
lifeboat that was lowering with plenty of room left in it.
Anna was taken from the Carpathia to St Vincent's Hospital, Anna and the other survivors, were spared the ordeal of
most immigrants at Ellis Island. She wanted to go and see if anyone else she knew had been rescued, three of her
roommates apparently perished, but the hospital personnel made her stay in her room, although she noted they were
very kind to her.
Anna had lost everything she had except her clothes. The White Star Line paid for her train ticket to Ashtabula
(because she spoke no English she had to be, literally, tagged) and for her hospital bill. Anna arrived in Ashtabula at
5:23 p.m. on the "Nickel Plate" train. She was greeted by her brother Matti Turja and taken to her sister's home at 81
Oak Street. Neighbors crowded in to see Anna, 'They marveled at the wisp of a girl they met.' Anna was described by
a newspaper reporter as 'fair, slender, and exceedingly bashful.'
Anna's name had been on the lost passengers list, and it wasn’t until 5 or 6 weeks later that her family in Finland
received a letter from her that they found out she was alive. She never returned to Finland.
Anna did not go to work for her brother-in-law. She soon met her future husband (Emil Lundi) and they had seven
children: Marvin Lundi and Ruth Eckhardt (both died pre-1982); Paul, who still lives in Ashtabula, Ohio; Martin, who
now lives in Naples, Florida; Milton Lundi who was born 9 February 1914 and died 2 May 1996 in Long Beach,
California; Ellen Harjo of Garden Grove, California and Ethel Rudolph of San Diego, California.
Anna never bothered to learn English and on attending the movie A Night to Remember in 1958 her son had to
interpret for her. When the movie ended she turned to her son with tears in her eyes and said "If they were so close to
take those pictures, why didn't someone help us?)
Emil Lundi died in 1952 and Anna Turja died, in Long Beach, California, on 20 December 1982, aged 89. She was
buried in Edgewater Cemetery, Ashtabula, Ohio.