August 1st, 2000
Table of Contents
Ice, I Believe, Sir by Molly Lemmer
THAC- Letter from Leonardo DiVinci
Reverie by Linda Griggs
Skywash by Linda Griggs
How Much by Amanda
Untitled by Amanda
Ice, I Believe, Sir by Molly Lemmer
Shortly after 11:40 p.m. on April 14, 1912, Fifth Officer Harold Lowe was awoken and told to report on deck. The unsinkable Titanic lay motionless in the North Atlantic Ocean, rumors spreading like wild fire. The official story invented to calm the passengers was that one of the rear propellers had been damaged and the engineers were now trying to fix it. Only the officers and crew knew the real reason--Titanic had struck an iceberg and the lower decks were already being swamped with the near freezing Atlantic water. The third class ("steerage") passengers knew the truth as well. Many of them were thrown from their bunks after the collision and the men's dormitories in E deck were already flooded.
Fifth Officer Lowe arrived on deck and immediately began to assist his fellow officers in uncovering the lifeboats. Curiousity-seekers from first and second class watched the action or peered over the rail where a group of steerage passengers played soccer with the chunks of ice that had fallen onto their deck. Almost an hour after the brush with the iceberg, the first lifeboat was launched. In the early stages of evacuation, it was almost impossible to convince the women and children to leave their husbands so the boats were launched with less than half the seats full. Panic set in, though, when the ship's forward list became unmistakable.
At 29, Lowe was the second youngest officer on board. He had the reputation of being blunt spoken and proved this to a crowd of witnesses when J. Bruce Ismay--president of White Star LIne and owner of Titanic--tried to "help" with the lowering of lifeboat 13. When Ismay encouraged to "Lower away now! Lower away!", Lowe snapped: "Shut up! Do you want me to kill the whole lot of them?" Miffed, Ismay demanded to know if the impertinent officer knew who he was talking to. Lowe, not recognizing him, replied coldly: "You're a passenger and I'm an officer, so get the hell out of it." All the junior officers were put in charge of lifeboats, and Lowe left the Titanic at 1:25 a.m. in Boat 14.
While floating in the freezing Atlantic Ocean, Lowe managed to round up boats 4, 10, 12 and Collapsible D and tied them in a line. His clear thinking was that a rescue ship would have a better chance at spotting a cluster of boats than separate ones. Fifth Officer Lowe then transferred all but three of his Lifeboat 14 passengers onto the other boats and rowed back to pick up survivors. He found four and, by morning, two fell victim to exposure. Out of the twenty lifeboats launched that night, only Lowe returned to the wreckage.
The cannons of the Carpathia alerted the survivors in their tiny boats that help had finally arrived at 4 a.m. Cheers rose from everyone and the mad paddling for the steam liner commenced with vigor. Fifth Officer Lowe and his flotilla were almost in the safety of the giant ship when he heard--of all things--the shrill cry of an officer's whistle. His head snapped around to see thirty men "surfing" on the overturned Collapsible B. As each wave crashed, the floundering lifeboat sunk lower and lower. There was no way that they could stay afloat long enough to make it to the ship. Lowe cute loose all but boats 4 and 12, ordered the rest to head for the waiting Carpathia, and staged his own minor rescue--hoisting the sail of lifeboat 14 and breezing over to the men on Collapsible B. After they were safely transported to either boat 4 or 12, Lowe sailed back to the Carpathia. While the survivors were being helped aboard, he lowered his sail, stored it under the seats, and tidied up Lifeboat 14. Through the trying ordeal of the night and early morning, he kept his wits and went above and beyond the call of duty.
It's not the load that breaks you, it's the way you carry it.
One thing you can give and still keep is your word.
Triumph is just "umph" added to try.
The pursuit of happiness is the chase of a lifetime.
-All from "1626 Road to Success" Poster
This edition of Glimpse of the Past is all about an RPG (Role Playing Game) called Garland Hill. I have had the pleasure of being part of this list for almost a year. Started by Erica, this list is actually based on a story she began. There are many characters that live in and around Williamsburg, Virginia in the year 1797. It is centered around the Tayloe children and their lives after their parents die. To learn more about this RPG or to join, please follow the link below and get more information.
(The Humorous Advice Column)
Dear THAC,
I have a HUGE problem. I'm 15 and I am a really good artist, and I really like art. Problem is, everyone expects me to be a
painter and only a painter. I want to be an painter, but I'd also like to be an inventor, a sculptor and a philosopher. How can I
be all these things at once when I'm only supposed to be a painter? Worse still, no one thinks I'm any good at anything but
painting. I think I have some good ideas if they'd just LISTEN to me. What can I do?
Regards,
Leo Da Vinci.
~~*~~
Reverie by Linda Griggs
My grandmother's porch
wraps around the house
like a
lover's arms.
Steeped in memories,
the ancient boards creak.
We swing lazily on
a summer's eve.
The cinnamon scent
of a mother's love
wafts out the windows,
sweetening the air.
My sister weaves
rainbows through my hair
with ribbon found in
grandmother's sewing box.
Time stretches out
forever here,
like the dreams
of a child.
Promises made deep
in the night,
while rocking in the halo
of the soft porch light.
(Published with permission)
~~*~~
Skywash by Linda Griggs
Clouds skimming the horizon
with opaque frost.
Tree tops lost
in a froth of fog.
Atmospheric breathing.
(Published with permission)
~~*~~
How Much by Amanda
How much do I love you?
Can I measure by the endless hours I think of you?
Or perhaps the dreams of our life together?
A memory of the sunrise and waking beside you.
How much do I love you?
Can I measure by the way my heart soars when you're near?
Or the way I melt each time I hear your voice?
A memory of the time sitting aimlessly while embracing.
How much do I love you?
Can I measure by the love felt in my tender touch?
Or how I wish to hold you every moment?
A memory of of slowly dancing in the moonlight.
How much do I love you?
Only as much as you let me, my love.
~~*~~
Untitled by Amanda
What to do when I'm back in the arms-
the very ones that betrayed me.
So many memories come, flooding my thoughts,
Mostly beautiful until I remember-
A harsh tone that hurt me
When it was not I who was at fault.
Why have I fallen into the same place?
The fear of repeated history follows me.
But should I not simply hold this man
Whom now, I again feel the world for?
Such endless nights in turmoil,
Thinking, turning, and over thinking.
Perhaps it doesn't matter as much as I think.
Maybe it's just young love.
Just young.
~~*~~
Copyright by respective artists, 2000.
