THE EDUCATION OF ROSE DAWSON: PART I
Chapter Nine

Demonstration

After Rose returned to the shelter, she saw the volunteers from Stuyvesant in the lobby taking a break from the repair work. "Miss Dawson, it’s good to see you again," said Mr. Word. "We’re almost finished with your room. Right now we’re about to head for lunch. We’ll resume work after we eat."

"Thank you again, Mr. Word. And thank you, Mr. Schwartz and Mr. Burkowski. I look forward to sleeping in the room."

"You’re very welcome, milady," said Solomon in a mock gentleman’s accent as he curtsied in jest. "But call me Solomon instead." The men laughed, and even Rose managed a bemused grin.

"And call me John. You’re quite the lady, Miss Dawson," said John.

Believe me, I was.

Solomon, however, was not finished with his jibes. "Have you caught anything with your hat, Miss Dawson?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Solomon pointed at the plumes that adorned Rose’s hat. "Those feathers on your hat look big enough to catch flies or knock down a man." He winked at John, who smirked in approval.

A situation similar to what Solomon had in mind

Rose remained calm, but gaped down at Solomon, who was three inches shorter than she. "My hat only has three feathers. I got it from this shelter. I do believe you have seen hats with even more elaborate decorations."

"I have," said Solomon, still in a lighthearted mood. "Some of ‘em look like fruit baskets or flower beds. If I wanted to help myself to some, the wearer wouldn’t even notice." John could barely contain his laughter as his friend spoke, while Mr. Word shook his head.

I am dealing with a couple of clowns. "Thank you, gentlemen, for your keen interest in women’s headwear," she said, trying hard not to look visibly aggravated. The finishing school training she received was working even though she was using it in a situation she could not have foreseen.

"This is the first time anyone’s called me a gentleman," said Solomon, feigning a strut and jutting his chin upwards. "Now, all I need is a top hat!"

It would certainly make you look taller.

"Miss Dawson’s just being polite, boys," said Mr. Word, trying to put an end to the nonsense. "I think we can learn something from her flawless etiquette." He smiled at Rose before lowering his voice. "I hope you don’t mind me saying this, Miss Dawson, but Brigadier Bown briefed me about your experience. Please stop me if you don’t want me to go on."

"You may continue, Mr. Word."

"Thank you. I am impressed by how well you have managed to cope with it. You seem to have resumed a normal life just two days after you’ve returned to New York."

"You are not the first person to tell me that, Mr. Word. But to be honest, it has not been as easy for me as it looks. I still have many things to overcome before I can return to a normal life, although I doubt that things could ever be the way they were before the incident."

"That’s true. People’s lives have been altered forever. Many problems were exposed by the sinking, like faulty bulkheads and faulty regulations, and…"

And faulty egos.

"…those with the power to do something to correct them would best do so soon, or we will never learn from this tragedy," concluded Mr. Word.

Solomon and John, who had been listening to the conversation intently, decided to join in. "I say the arrangement of the bulkheads is to blame," said Solomon. "If they’d been better arranged, the flooding could’ve been limited to only a small part of the ship, and it would’ve stayed afloat. But they’d have to keep the watertight doors shut, too."

"Fat chance," countered John. "More lifeboats would be better. That’s what a naval engineer said in today’s New York Times."

"The boys love big ships," explained Mr. Word, "and they’ve been following the Titanic even before it sailed. I remind them to be respectful of people’s feelings when they discuss it in public."

"Boys will be boys," Rose murmured as she gave Solomon and John a respectful, but somber, look.

"I would’ve liked to travel on either ship," said John. "The papers were running advertisements for both at the start of this month. Now, it’s only for the Olympic."

So Miss Howard was right about the advertisements.

"So, Miss Dawson," inquired Solomon with a slight air of self-assurance. "What do you think? More bulkheads or lifeboats?"

"How about more hearts and brains first?" retorted Rose.

"Huh?"

All right. Here is my chance to recount the tragedy again…and to conquer my fears. "I had two chances to board a lifeboat before the ship sank. The first time was on one of the larger boats that could hold sixty-five people, but mine was only half-filled when they lowered it. There were fourteen lifeboats of this type, and most of them were not filled to capacity, some of them not by half. I know this because I saw them." Rose felt the emotions building up inside her as she spoke, but managed to keep them under control.

She continued: "The second time I could have boarded one of the smaller boats that could hold thirty-five people each. But I counted only twenty-five in this one before they lowered it." The boys and Mr. Word were transfixed by her story, so she stopped to let them digest some of it.

Solomon was incredulous. "Why didn’t you board either lifeboat?" he asked half-accusingly.

Rose glared at him. "They were only allowing women and children on. I had men in my family. How could I leave them behind?" she asked calmly, but in a tone that hinted at annoyance with his question. "They wanted me to get on, but I was determined to sink or swim together." She became so focused on and passionate about the conversation that she failed to notice others gathering around just to hear a first person account of the sinking.

"And that’s what you did," deduced Solomon, who felt a little guilty for his knee-jerk reaction.

"Right. The third time I was pulled out of the water by the only lifeboat that came back," said Rose as she picked up the pace. "One lifeboat out of twenty. As I said before, the fourteen larger lifeboats could each hold sixty-five people. That would be nine hundred ten people. The two smaller lifeboats could each hold thirty-five, so that would be seventy people. The four collapsibles could each hold fifty people, so that makes two hundred. Altogether, they could have carried one thousand, one hundred eighty people, and perhaps a few more." Rose spoke so quickly that she had to stop to catch her breath.

"Y-yes, that’s just about right," said Solomon, who was almost too speechless to reply.

"I counted only five other people who were saved from the water. Not all of them survived. There were just over two thousand, two hundred people on board Titanic. If almost sixteen hundred of them are now missing, as yesterday’s newspaper stated–for I have not read today’s–then that means just over six hundred people boarded the lifeboats, which would be only half their total capacity. Yet, only one boat came back, and by that time almost everybody in the water had frozen to death." Including Jack.

Rose’s minuscule tally of the number of people rescued from the water stunned those around her into silence for a while. "That does explain the lack of heart," Mr. Word finally said.

Rose nodded slightly in agreement and let out a sigh of relief. It was then that she sensed the small audience she had attracted, but she did not care.

"So how did you escape freezing, Miss Dawson?" asked John.

"I was most fortunate to have found a large piece of wood floating nearby. I climbed on it and lay there until help arrived." Good, I did not mention Jack.

"How about your family?" asked Solomon, who immediately regretted allowing the question to leave his mouth.

"I am the only one left," replied Rose unhesitatingly. She closed her eyes to hold back the tears, but the dam held this time. Upon hearing those six words, some in the audience gasped, and a few even shed tears. Then more silence followed as everyone waited uneasily for someone to break it.

"Those in charge of the other nineteen lifeboats were either too afraid or too selfish to return and save even one more life each," conjectured Mr. Word.

"Probably less than nineteen, Mr. Word," John reminded him. "The surviving wireless operator said in the Times yesterday that he was on an overturned lifeboat. Then there was a collapsible that had filled up with water. And one boat already had seventy people on board. So these three couldn’t have gone back even if they wanted to. But there were still sixteen other lifeboats that could have gone back, so that’s why I think more lifeboats are the answer," he said in a restrained manner out of respect for Rose, although he still looked somewhat triumphantly at Solomon.

"More lifeboats don’t mean anything if the ship carelessly sails into an ice field. That’s what Andrew Carnegie said yesterday in a letter to Mayor Gaynor," said Solomon, trying to salvage something after losing the debate, although he looked at Rose uneasily as he spoke.

"Yes, but neither do more bulkheads," John shot back.

"Then perhaps avoiding the iceberg altogether is the best solution," said Mr. Word, attempting to make peace. "Would you agree, Miss Dawson?"

"Possibly. I was there when Captain Smith was warned of icebergs by the wireless operator. Instead, he increased speed," said Rose.

"The papers said something about that two days ago," said John. "I think that’s what you meant by brains."

"Or the lack of it," suggested Mr. Word. "This shows that technology is only as good as its user. There are limits to it, and we misuse it at our own peril."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Rose was relieved. I did it. I talked about my experience on the Titanic without crying.

*****

It was getting close to noon, and Mr. Word sent Solomon and John off to lunch while he had a final word with Rose. "That was a remarkable presentation you put on, Miss Dawson. I hope you were not offended by the boys. They meant no harm. As you could see, they tend to see the world from a scientific and technological point of view and overlook the human element."

"I understand perfectly, Mr. Word. But now we know there are limits to the first two."

"I’ve known that for some time, even though I teach a subject that directly relates to technology. My students see science as a ticket out of poverty because many of them come from families with limited means, and that’s understandable. But I fear that too much focus has been put on technology over that put on people. That’s what happened with the Titanic."

"I could not have said it better myself," concurred Rose. Jack was the opposite. He saw things science cannot create, like people, love, and friendship.

"I’m also impressed by how quickly you broke down the capacity of the lifeboats, Miss Dawson. Did you perform the calculations yourself?"

"Yes, I did. Thomas Andrews, the ship’s designer, even confirmed them."

"You met Thomas Andrews on board? That must have been a memorable encounter. Didn’t he travel in First Class?" Mr. Word then realized his gaffe and apologized. "Sorry, I hope you’re not offended by my insinuation."

"No, I was not. Yes, Mr. Andrews traveled in First Class, but he was very proud of his ship, and he tried to inspect every part of it during the sailing to make sure they all worked. So he had no problem socializing with those of us outside of First Class." There. I did not tell the whole truth about my relationship with Mr. Andrews, but neither did I lie.

"But he’s now listed as missing. I wonder if he went down with the ship."

Upon hearing these words, Rose’s eyes became downcast. Sadly, he did.

Mr. Word realized the sensitivity of his remarks. "I think I know the answer to that already," he lamented. "And I’m sorry again, Miss Dawson. That was an impressive demonstration of your math proficiency. You would have made a fine student at Stuyvesant if they admitted girls."

Rose looked back up. "Even if they did so tomorrow, it would be too late for me."

"Unfortunately, you’re right. But I think they will eventually. Somewhere in this city may live a future Marie Curie or Elizabeth Blackwell, and we’ll miss her if we never give her a chance."

"I have heard of Madam Curie, but who is Madam Blackwell?"

"Why, she’s the first woman to become a physician in this country, and for that, she was scorned by many, including other women. She had to patiently and painfully win the public’s trust, and eventually she did. She opened the hospital that’s next to Stuyvesant to serve poor women and children, and she lived to a very old age–dying only two years ago."

Mr. Word is quite a progressive. "That is very interesting…and encouraging to know. But at least this shelter and the Army are run by women."

"Yes, Brigadier Bown has done a lot for women in this city. That’s why I couldn’t refuse when she asked us to help at the shelter. And Commander Booth has demonstrated strong leadership qualities in the eight years she’s been here. Her response to the earthquake in San Francisco six years ago was excellent, and it appears she’s repeating her feat with the Titanic survivors."

"Did someone call me?" asked a familiar voice. It was Commander Booth making a grand entrance into the shelter.

"Good afternoon, Commander," said Mr. Word.

"Hello again, Madam Booth," said Rose. "Mr. Word and I have been getting acquainted."

"Quite nicely, as I can see. How are you today, Miss Dawson?"

"Better than yesterday, I hope."

"Definitely better than yesterday, I’m sure," said Mr. Word. "Miss Dawson’s recuperative skills have been amazing. Do you know that she’s also quite a mathematician, Commander?"

"No, but I would not be surprised," said Commander Booth, eyeing Rose with approval. "Miss Dawson is an unpretentious young woman. She has many gifts we have not seen yet."

Rose blushed at the compliment. I hope you are right, Madam Booth.

"Well, she’s already touched the people around her with the gifts she’s chosen to display," said Mr. Word. He checked his pocket watch. "I must be joining my students for lunch now, ladies. It was a pleasure talking to you both. We’ll be back after lunch." He gave Rose’s hand a firm shake, and did the same with Commander Booth’s.

"The pleasure is mutual, Mr. Word," said Rose. "I will see you in the afternoon."

Chapter Ten
Stories