I Took a Voyage on the R.M.S Titanic
“I walked down the aisle and stood there, terribly, terribly moved. I didn’t even seem to be on earth; I was somewhere else. It was as if I was ascending. I felt that here, at long last, was the end of the Titanic story. My father had given his life to save me” and now that I was free of everything else, it was up to me to make the decisions as to what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. But the Titanic? For me, it was over with.”
So now, Marjorie Newell Robb, like Melville’s Ishmael, is left to tell of the mighty ship. Considered unsinkable, it sank on its maiden voyage, taking with it all the interlocking assumptions about modem man and the perfectability of his works, the smug, hubristic self-assurance of the Gilded Age. For along with A. W. Newell and 1,502 others, the Titanic took with it an entire insulated way of life.
“The irony of it all is so striking,” says Arthur Newell’s last surviving daughter. “The unsinkable ship, all the money that those men had that was of no use to them at all. And the irony even touched my father. One of the ways we identified his body when it washed up was an onyx ring that he always wore. One of my grandchildren wears it now. And on that ring, you see, is a carving of Neptune, King of the Sea.”
Read another tale of survival on the Titanic: Going Down with the Titanic in Third Class