Ride of my Life

Dedicated to my grandmother Philomena, who was always a lover of the Titanic and the survivor's tales.

When they say once in a lifetime, typically, you don’t pass it up. I honestly wish I had. There isn’t much in my life that I can say that about, but this part of my life. Yes. There isn’t a thing that I wouldn’t go back and change. I’d slap my younger self if I could. Why did I ever think it was a good idea? I was a stupid kid for sure, but what choice did I have? Oh, there were choices, but I hadn’t looked hard enough. I saw the enormous opportunity and the freedom and that’s all I needed. Nothing could have gone wrong. I had listened to the adults, and that was my biggest mistake in the end. I always hated listening to them before, so why had I chosen that time to listen? Because, Nina, you’re a stupid dolt of a girl who wanted to get away from your family and marriage. Yes, this all boils down to me fleeing away because I didn’t want to get married to the guy my father thought was the best fit for me. So I jumped on the first ship out of the country. That ship being the ship of dreams. Or nightmares depending on when you’ve read this.

The date is September 30th, 1913. It’s taken me nearly a year to get the jitters to stop so I can even pick up a pen again. Fanny says that it’s okay, but I feel worthless. Oh, Fanny is the nice old lady who took me in when we came ashore. When they all realized that I was alone and too young to be on board alone. Look, I wasn’t a stowaway, so get that out of your head. I had a legit ticket that I worked very hard for. I was just too young to have my actual name put on it. So, they put Lynch on it. I can sort of laugh about it now, the guy I was supposed to marry. His last name was Lynch.

Guess it was such a popular name. There was a family who died with the last name as well. So, they thought I belonged to them. Irish family who lost two other kids. I’ve wondered if something related them to Benji (my former fiancé) but, never gotten around to going and looking into it. Maybe someday. For now, I’m a Lynch, and my parents officially died in the sinking of the Titanic. The only reason I didn’t was because of Fanny and the nice band members who… who…

His name was Zachary. He was a violin player who wanted so badly to play here in New York City. That was his only dream. He didn’t care about the ship; he didn’t care about who he was playing for either. All he cared for was playing. He was only eighteen years old; you know. I already knew how to play that instrument better than I could cook, and I’d been cooking longer than he had been playing, easily. But they never even gave him the chance. Not that I think he would have taken it.

I tried, though. I only told Fanny about it. Told his boss that I was with child and that I needed Zachary when I was going to board that stupid lifeboat. Zachary had just smiled at me, kissed my forehead and said no. Just no. Turned and started playing a joyous song on his violin like the world wasn’t being destroyed around us. His boss just gave me this sad look and I swear I couldn’t stop crying until this morning about that look. Sometimes I still dream of the songs Zachary used to play while I sat with him. We wouldn’t talk about much, but the way he played would just make my soul sing. It would make me feel like I could do anything and be anything and I just knew it was going to be okay.

I can’t listen to a violin anymore without sobbing.

Am I rambling? I’m rambling. This isn’t the story I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you about that night. Not about Zachary, and not about my family drama. I wanted to talk about the famous Ship of Dreams and how in one instant for thousands of us, it because a living hell of ice.

March 1912 had been strange. It started rather cold for the start of spring, and probably should have seen that as a sign. But I was used to the colder weather, because I was from the hillside in Ireland. Cold didn’t really bother me much, so I was looking forward to the English spring and being out on the ocean in the day's coldness. Seeing the sun come up over the ocean had to be my favorite part of my day during my time in London, and seeing that ship filled me with hope. Hope that my future was finally mine. When the last of the winter storms left and we felt those first rays of spring sun, it was just in time for boarding.

I’d been working in a restaurant close to the ship, and the entire staff was being moved to work on the ship. So I went with them. Of course, because I was only twelve, they had to do a little adjusting and fake some things. But my boss was a good man and pretended that I was older than I looked, so no one questioned it. The kitchens on the Titanic were, impressive. I’ve seen nothing like it. Not even here in New York and I’ve been working in several since I got here. We had everything we would ever need, and we could basically cook every dish we all knew. The first class guests got what they paid for in food, that was for sure. I tried to make sure the service class and third class got good too, but there was just so much I could do.

They weren’t unhappy. Let’s get that right out of the way. No one on that ship was. They were in paradise. Even if they were in the dumps of the ship, it was better than where ever they had just come from. Sleeping next to the boiler was a warmer bed than some of those people had seen in their lives, and that’s right from the horse’s mouth. They were happy because they thought it was heaven. I wish it had been. But the devil comes in all forms, and he came as paradise.

Another thing people always seem to misunderstand is the time frame. We were at sea on that blasted ship for less than a week. A week! One week and then in one night we’re thrown into the deepest level of hell you can imagine. Dante’s Inferno couldn’t come close to what I saw that night. People at their worst could topple even the devil for sins. There were full-grown men, throwing children off the ship to save themselves a spot on the few lifeboats. There were women who were just, throwing themselves at men to be saved. Even though the women were supposed to be saved first. Women and Children was the first call. The entire kitchen staff had pushed me towards a boat.

But I wanted to stay to find Zachary. My violin player, who I had fallen in love with. Five days and I thought the world of him, and I would have let the ice and water claim me if it meant I could be with him in the end. How stupid was I? I think I’ve gone over that point. I’m glad for Fanny, who could drag me to the boats and force me to board.

Sitting in the water and watching the ship break apart, the sounds coming from it were like explosions. I’ve heard them living in Ireland, but normally those sounds came from guns and explosions. They wouldn’t be heard on a ship that claimed it was unsinkable.

Unsinkable. Ha! It took less than three hours to sink. The creators should be on board. I hope the man who claimed it was unsinkable was on board. I hope whoever designed those lifeboats was on board. We knew there wasn’t enough as the last ones were going down, but as people were floating in the freezing water, people pulled on the boats. Out of all of them, I could see four or five being ripped to bits by desperate people who were freezing to death in the water. Who then caused children and others to join them in their watery graves.

At one point I remember someone trying to do that with ours, but we were so far from the sink, they had no strength left, and just clung to the boat until they froze to death. I helped to loosen their hands to send them down to the ocean floor with the rest of the dead, crying the whole time. I prayed for them; I sang for them.

But none of it mattered.

God wasn’t listening.

This was the devil’s work. That had been his finest hour.