Wednesday, 10 April 1912
RMS Titanic, the finest ocean liner in the world,
RMS Titanic
So much has happened today that I scarcely
know where to begin. The Titanic is, to put it
bluntly, the most magical and astounding place
in the world.
A uniformed man just inside the entry handed
us each a small nosegay of flowers from a large
wicker basket.
Once in the corridor, a smiling dark-haired
young man stepped forward. He was wearing a
white uniform, and introduced himself as our
bedroom steward, Robert Merton.
Mrs. Carstairs began to give him a long list of
instructions about exactly when and how she
wanted things done.
“You would be Mrs. Carstairs daughter?” he
asked, as he led us through a maze of carpeted
corridors.
“No, I am her staunch companion,” I answered.
“Yes, this is Margaret Brady.” Mrs. Carstairs
said, “You may feel free to treat her as you treat
me.” Robert nodded; I could see amusement in
his eyes.
“You will be right up here, Mrs. Carstairs,”
Robert said, “while Miss Brady is just across
the way.”
“Come knock on my door as soon as you get
settled,” Mrs. Carstairs said to me. “We will
want to be up on the Boat Deck when we cast
off.” I nodded, and followed Robert to my
stateroom.
He told me to be sure and call him if I needed
any help, or even just had a question. Then,
with a wink and a slight bow, he left.
I was in my own beautiful room, aboard the
on my way to America!
Shortly before noon, Mrs. Carstairs and I went
along with the general flow of passengers
heading for the upper decks.
I felt a shiver of excitement each time the steam
whistles blew, trumpeting our departure.
As we began to move, ever so slightly, a
tremendous cheer rose up.
INTRODUCTION
We were underway now, other than a slight
sense of engines throbbing somewhere far
below me, I could barely feel the ship’s motion.
“Come along now, Margie,” Mrs. Carstairs said
briskly. “Time for our luncheon.”
Shortly we were joined by a Mr. and Mrs.
Prescott, whom Mrs. Carstairs was delighted to
see. She introduced me in the briefest possible
way, and then they were off in an energetic
conversation.
A stream of black-jacketed waiters bearing
silver platters appeared at our table again and
again.
Everything – right down to the fruit tart and
array of cheeses and fruits we were offered for
dessert – was delicious.
Sunday, 14 April 1912
RMS Titanic
A very strange thing just happened.
It was as though there was a jolt.
Maybe other people noticed the jolting
sensation as well?
Something is different. I can no longer hear the
soothing, constant vibration of the engines.
Just like that, it is gone. I wonder why.
Voices out in the hall keep saying the word
“iceberg,” but no one seems upset.
This must be routine. What else could it be?
Monday, 15 April 1912
There was a sharp knock on my door. I open it
to see Robert. He was smiling, but his eyes
looked urgent.
“Good evening, Miss Brady,” “You need to
report to the Boat Deck with your life belt.”
I must have looked upset, because he reached
out to pat my arm.
“A routine drill, no need to fret.”
If he said it was routine, it must be routine.
“You’ll not want to take you time, Margaret,”
he said in a very quiet voice.
It did not seem possible – but maybe this was
not a drill.
“Robert,” I started.
“Please,” he said. “There’s no time to waste. I
have already woken Mrs. Carstairs, but you will
want to urge her along,” he said.
Across the hall, Mrs. Carstairs was vexed at the
prospect of going outside.
“Why on earth are you so bundled up?” she
asked me.
“I believe you should approach this situation as
though it were serious. We must do as we have
been instructed.”
Mrs. Carstairs also balked at putting on her life
belt.
“This is utterly ridiculous,” Mrs. Carstairs
sniffed, as we started up the Grand Staircase.
The steps seemed somehow crooked, and I
could not figure out why. Was something on
the ship broken?
There must be something terribly wrong here.
Why did the deck seem to tilt forward? Surely,
it ought not to do that. The Titanic was the
finest and safest ship ever built, so there must
be a reasonable explanation.
The officers were calling for people to board the
lifeboats, but almost no one volunteered. A
brave few did so, which encouraged others to
follow.
Mrs. Carstairs, shivered next to me. “I am
going inside to get warm.”
I stayed outdoors.
The forward tilt of the deck was growing more
and more pronounced. I could think of no
explanation, unless – but we couldn’t actually
be sinking, could we? Suddenly, there was a
blinding white light and a strange whistling
sound, followed by the boom of an explosion up
in the sky.
Distress rockets?! Impossible as it seemed,
that could only mean one thing.
I went inside to tell Mrs. Carstairs, and she
peevishly returned to the Boat Deck.
We were sinking.
The officers were still trying to fill Boat 8, and
implored Mrs. Carstairs to climb in.
“I-I don’t know,” she wavered.
“Mrs. Carstairs,” I said through clenched teeth.
“Get in the boat.”
She moved toward the boat with something of
an offended flounce.
“Wait until the other first-class ladies board,
dear,” she said to me over her shoulder.
I had been on the verge of stepping in after her,
and this caught me off guard. Should I let the
others go first?
There were plenty of other boats; I would wait
my turn.
The feeling of collective fear on the deck was
starting to spread, and I had to escape from it. I
would go find Robert, and wait with him.
I noticed how steep the angle of the floor was,
and quickened my pace. Fighting a sudden rush
of panic, I was turning to hurry back to the aft
staircase when I saw Robert!
“Thank goodness I found you!” I said.
“Margaret, what are you doing here? Please go
back upstairs right away.”
“Robert -“I began.
“There isn’t a moment to lose. Please allow me
to take you back upstairs now.”
I knew that it might already be too late, but we
had to try. Finally we made it up to the deck.
“I’ll see you off here. Go find a boat, quick as
you can. I could never rest, knowing
otherwise.”
Although it sickened me somewhere deep
inside, I nodded – and saw his face relax.
I was crying, but I returned to the lifeboat area.
“Margie!” a deep voice said. “What are you
still doing here?”
It was Mr. Prescott, who had dined with us so
many times during the voyage.
“Come quickly, we may just have time. Let us
through, please, gentlemen! I have a young girl
here!”
Then, just like that, I was half-climbing, and
half-falling, into the lifeboat. As I sat down, my
end of the boat dropped toward the water.
We hit the water, and were able to cast off.
The portholes were still brightly it, but I could
see water rising through C Deck.
As the bow began to disappear completely,
there was an enormous din of shattering glass
and crashing metal from inside the ship.
The horror of these last moments was too awful
to watch, but it was impossible to look away.
Slowly, the stern was lifted straight up into the
sky.
The ship’s lights were abruptly extinguished.
The stern stayed straight up in the air for what
seemed like an hour, then, with an almost
stately grace, it gradually slipped beneath the
surface of the ocean.
The Titanic was gone.
Tuesday, 16 April 1912
The Carpathia
The unspeakable shrieking of hundreds of
people dying filled the night. Frenzied ,terrified
screams.
When a passenger first shouted that she saw a
ship, none of us believed her. But as the lights
loomed closer, we realized that it was a steamer, when no one seemed to notice me, I stretched
and she was heading our way! out and closed my eyes.

Up close, I could see that our savior was called I was sound asleep when I suddenly felt
the Carpathia. someone sit down next to me, and a hand
touched my shoulder. I opened my eyes,
Before we steamed away, a reverend gave
terrified – and then recognized my brother.
thanksgiving for the approximately seven
hundred who had been saved, and led us in I was finally safe.
prayer in memory of the more than fifteen
hundred people who had been lost.

Wednesday, 17 April 1912

I do not understand why I survived, when so
many others did not.

I know I did not want to die, but neither did I

want to doom others to their helpless, frozen
fate. Although I suppose that is exactly what I
did by virtue of taking my seat on Boat 4.

I hope I can learn how to forgive myself for still

being alive, when so many others are not.

Thursday, 18 April 1912

Carpathia

We steamed into New York Harbor at eight-

thirty P.M.

The gangways had been laid out now, and the

first group of numb tired passengers began to
get off. When it came to be my turn, I
followed.

I stood alone in the frantic crowd, trying not to

panic. Where was I going to go?

I had so hoped that William would be here, but

I did not know where to start looking.

I finally found a deserted bench, near the

shipping office. At first, I just sat down, but