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A picture is worth a thousand words, right?  Well, we’ll see if this picture-related post can measure up to that.  I thought it was about time I wrote in depth about one of my closer connections to everyone’s favorite transatlantic ship.  Today marks the 102^nd anniversary of the launching of the R.M.S. Olympic, and it’s a picture of her (a postcard, rather) that provides the basis of this connection.

The Set Up:

First, I need to take you back to the late-nineties.  Since I was very young, I have known that a relative of mine had traveled across the Altantic, in one direction or the other, aboard the Olympic.  That alone to a five-year-old Titaniac is exciting.  It wasn’t the Titanic, but beggars can’t be choosers.   However, she was seasick the entire time so there wasn’t much she could really have said about the voyage.  And by the time I was around, she was deceased.   Very unfortunate circumstances for someone like me.

The Problem:

Fast forward to this last spring when I was getting ready for the 100^th anniversary of the maiden voyage of the Titanic.  I was thinking about that relative, whose relation to me I was actually not sure.  Great-grandmother?  Great aunt?  All I knew was that the relative was a she and that she was on the Olympic.  Then, a burst of thought!  I remembered from when I was young, being told that someone in my family, my grandmother I thought, had kept a postcard of the Olympic from this relative.  It took some pondering to see if it made sense, but I did not know enough of my family history to say with any degree of certainty who it was.  After all, my great- relations came to America from Europe and all most approximately during the time the Olympic sailed.  I did some digging around.

The Search:

Introduce my aunt JoAnn, who is the genealogist of the family.  She wasn’t sure if we had a relative who had traveled on the Olympic.  All she could say off the top of her head was that one of her uncles (my great uncle) used to travel between Europe and America frequently and at one time was on the Queen Mary.  I knew that didn’t match with what I thought I had remembered hearing as a child.  My grandmother knew that there was a Queen Mary postcard lying around somewhere, too.  It began to look like I had heard the story incorrectly as a child.  Maybe we didn’t have an Titanic connection like I thought we had.

Then, one day, I got an email from my aunt.  My grandmother had done some digging and found a postcard for the Queen Mary, bought by my great uncle and (insert drumroll) a postcard of the R.M.S. Olympic that my great grandmother picked up.

The Story:

The following is what can be pieced together by word of mouth and a little knowledge of the times.

Helga Henrietta Sægrov (my great grandmother) was born Oct 21, 1907 in Heskestaad, Norway.  Try saying that three times fast.  In 1927 or 1928, Helga and a friend went to the U.S. Embassy and signed up to go to America.  A program had been instituted to help European immigrants travel to America in search of jobs.  Helga planned to stay with an uncle in America when and if she got the opportunity to go.  Nine months later she got a letter saying there were openings to travel to the United States

By the time The night before she was to leave, Helga was still unsure.  Her decision came that night when she overheard her parents in discussion.  Helga’s mother, Ingeborg, was upset that her daughter might travel across the Atlantic.  Nils, her father, said, “Don’t worry; she is not going by herself.”   Later, Helga and her friend Ingrid were preparing to make the voyage.  Unfortunately, it appeared that there was only one vacant spot in the program for an immigrant to board the ship that would take them from Norway to America.  How did the girls decide?  The flip of a coin.  With that, Helga going.  Ingrid was not put out by that though; in those nine months between signing up and being ready to depart, Ingrid had found herself a boyfriend.  Shortly thereafter, Helga was on a boat to England where she would board the R.M.S. Olympic for New York.  Helga had a third-class ticket, boarded, and according to the story was sick the entire voyage.

A week after leaving, she arrived in New York.  Helga took a train to Chicago and then made her way to Arthur, Wisconsin.  She stayed with her uncle, Sam Sægrov (later Sam Arneson).   He was a miner and allowed her to work for him keeping house until she could find a job.  Four years later, she married Emil Opdahl July 22, 1932.

We don’t have any facts like when the voyage took place, other than the year, or what ship Helga took to get from Norway to England.  I am sure those facts are out there somewhere and, in time, we will find them.

The Postcard:

The only tangible remnant of the voyage is a post card that Helga picked up along the way.  The postcard isn’t in great condition anymore, but it has a story that makes up for it.  The postcard is one of many that the White Star Line had made for the Olympic in her 20+ year run.  It depicts the Olympic sailing toward and slightly to the side of the viewer.  We can see her port side and prow.

There are many small details that may stand out to those familiar with the Titanic’s general appearance.  For example, the yellow/gold line of paint that looks to run the length of the ship under C Deck.  Also, it looks like there is a solid bulwark railing at the tip of the bow, as opposed to the open railing is also unfamiliar to those you know just the Titanic.  Of course, many more lifeboats are present, but we all knew about those.

Actually, these details are present in many postcards of the Olympic and do reflect her actual state of being.  I did some digging so I could learn if these were real or not as well, and came up with some interesting facts.  Sometime after the war, when her dazzle paint scheme was removed, photos indicate that Olympic’s passenger service paint scheme changed; the gold band traditionally cutting through C Deck was now moved under C Deck.

The white railing that appears at the front of the bow is accurate to the Olympic as well.  Photos show that this white structure was added to the forecastle and the poop deck.  In the postcard, it looks like a bulwark, but photos show some kind of canvas cover over the railings.  Looking at dates on photos, this was probably added during the 1927 refit.  And all that time looking at that postcard I thought it was a boo-boo on the artist’s part.  Interestingly enough, though, the postcard makes it look like that bulwark is only on one side of the bow.  I can’t explain that, and it might just be my brain looking at the postcard incorrectly.

Just barely visible in the postcard is a small tugboat, but that had been ripped out at some time.  The postcard reads “R.M.S. Olympic” in the lower left hand corner and “White Star Line” in the upper right.  Interestingly enough, this same postcard design was still in print after the White Star-Cunard merger and exists to this day in print with both companies’ names printed on it (http://www.encyclopedia-titanica.org/olympic-postcard-circa-1934-post-merger.html).  And if you look about an inch under the “White Star Line” title on Helga’s postcard, you can see a very faint five-pointed white star.  That star is commonplace on these postcards.

The reverse side of the postcard reads, “R.M.S. “Olympic,” 46,439 Tons, the Largest Triple-Screw Steamer in the World Length 883 feet. Breadth 92 feet. Depth 66 feet.”  In addition to labels reading “POSTCARD” and “For the address only.”  We all know that ships larger than the Olympic were built shortly after her, so what gives with the “largest triple-screw steamer” business?  Well, that is explained right there in the sentence.  It uses the phrase “triple-screw.”  Three propellers.  Ships built even before the Olympic/Titanic were using four propellers (the Lusitania and Mauretania, for instance) so White Star was perfectly justified in using that phrase.  One must wonder if anyone read that and jumped to the conclusion that the Olympic was still the largest ship afloat.

I think it is remarkable how connections and coincidences lead us to new paths and knowledge.  I liked the Titanic before I knew I had a relative onboard her sister and yet that connection has still added paraffin to the flame.  In the course of trying to find this postcard I had heard about years ago, I learned not only the interesting story of one of my great-grandmothers, but also about the Olympic’s life.  And all it took was a memory from my youth to trigger the search.  If I hadn’t remembered that now, who knows what would have happened to that postcard, Helga’s story, or my understanding of the Olympic as a sister to the Titanic?  I think that is really what this blog is about, or what I intend it to be in the long run.  A compilation of all of those things about the Titanic, big or small, that connect us, before they slip away and we forget them.  Connections.  Memories.  So much about the Titanic and that era has already been lost, I would like to think that we won’t lose more and may even recover some.

For a great site containing postcards of the R.M.S. Olympic, visit http://www.simplonpc.co.uk/WSL_Olympic.html

I would also like to post a shut-out to my brother, Colter for whom this post is dedicated.  He is celebrating his birthday today (how cool is it to be born on the day that the Olympic was launched?), so HAPPY BIRTHDAY, COLTER!  And a thank you to my aunt, JoAnn, without whom I would never have gotten to see this lovely piece of Titanic history.

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Not too long ago, in my Lit class, our professor told us we were going to do some analyzing.  Not too uncommon for a Lit class, after all.  The class is about Education in Pop Culture, so I was surprised when she said that we’d be reading a poem called “Carpathia”.  I doubted very much that it would be about the ship I knew, and instead thought it would be mythological, or maybe about the Carpathian Mountains.  Nope!  She hands out a yellow paper with the following printed on it:

“Carpathia”

By Jesse Lee Kercheval, from Micro Fiction: An Anthology of Really Short Stories, edited by Jerome Stern

It happened on my parents’ honeymoon.  The fourth morning out from New York, Mother woke to find the Carpathia still, engines silent.  She woke Father; they rushed to the deck in their nightgowns.  The first thing they saw was the white of an ocean filled with ice, then they saw white boats, in groups of two or three, pulling slowly toward the Carpathia.  My father read the name written in red across their bows—Titanic.  The sun was shining.  Here and there a deck chair floated on the calm sea.  There was nothing else.

The survivors came on board in small groups.  Women and children.  Two sailors for each boat.  The women of the Carpathia went to the women of the Titanic, wrapping them in their long warm furs.  My mother left my father’s side to go to them.  The women went down on their knees on the deck and prayed, holding each other’s children.  My father stood looking at the icy water where, if he had been on the other ship, he would be.

When the Carpathia dropped off the survivors in New York, my parents too got off and took the train home, not talking much, the honeymoon anything but a success.  At the welcome-home party, my father got drunk.  When someone asked about the Titanic, he said, “They should have put the men in the lifeboats.  Men can marry again, have new families.  What’s the use of all those widows and orphans?”  My mother, who was standing next to him, turned her face away.  She was pregnant, eighteen.

Interesting little story, right?  And I was overjoyed that we would get to talk about the Titanic in class!  How often does that happen?  We split into groups to analyze it using different modes of literary thought.  I ended up being one of only two guys in the Feminism group with about eight girls.  It was actually pretty interesting what we came up with:

It was decided the first paragraph didn’t have much to analyze.

Some of the ladies in the group decided that the “Women and Children” rule referenced in the second paragraph was an antiquated notion.  That led to a classroom discussion on chivalry and what it meant.  “My mother left my father’s side to go to them,” and “My father stood looking at the icy water,” indicated a certain level of emancipation, which, depending on your understanding of the 1910’s may seem out of place or may seem normal.

The third paragraph shifts things back to the really unappealing view a lot of people have on the Edwardian Era regarding the treatment of women. “’They should have put the men in the lifeboats.  Men can marry again, have new families.  What’s the use of all those widows and orphans?’”  His words are harsh, but not unusual for a 1910’s man.  That line led us on to a discussion of mourning in the 1910’s (can anyone say Downton Abbey?) which made me think of Isabella Paradine (Catherine Zeta-Jones) from the miniseries Titanic, but that is another thing altogether.  The mother here, we read is eighteen and pregnant.  Unusual in our times, but something that we know happened thin with much more frequency.  The group as a whole decided that, from a Feminist’s point of view, the prose would be an example of chauvinism insofar as the Father’s treatment of the Mother and chivalry as a form of chauvinism in the rule “Woman and Children first.”  There was some dispute in the classroom as to whether or not that was the “true” intent of the piece.

Interestingly enough, upon some research, I noticed that a fuller version of the prose exists.  It has an extra two sentences at the end of the third paragraph reading, “She was the one drowning.  But there was no one there to rescue her.”  I imagine that if that line had been there, there would have been no argument as to the intent of the piece.

Another group in the room was supposed to analyze the piece using a Marxist view.  I won’t break it down too far, but their basis knowledge of the classes was used in their discussion though, interestingly enough, there is no real mention of that in the piece.   There were two other groups in the room, but those analyses didn’t go too far.

Another something I learned while researching the prose on my own, was regarding the author’s background.  Jesse Lee Kercheval is a professor at University of Wisconsin–Madison.  She was born in 1956, and is not the daughter of anyone who was on the Carpathia.  Needless to say, I was a little disappointed.  The prose was a short story she had written for a textbook called Building Fiction.  Kind of put a dampener on the whole thing.

I am glad that my Lit professor used the piece in class though for our analysis.  It is interesting to read and consider, and has added one more piece of Titanic literature to the collection.

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Carlson moves to the Squash Courts to fence with Willie von Haderlitz. There, WIllie shares with Carlson many cryptic messages and, after three sets, gives Carlson a mysterious ring. He tells Carlson, “If anything happens to me, I trust you will know what to do.”

All credits to Cyberflix for an incredible and timeless game!

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Carlson heads straight to the Conkling’s cabin to tell him about the meeting with the Hackers when Beatrix, Conkling’s wife and the mysterious lady from the Smoking Room, enters. Conkling sends Carlson to meet with Miss Hacker. On his way to the third-class cabins forward, Carlson bumps into Max again, spouting about WIllie von Haderlitz’s “gal”. In Scotland Road, Carlson bumps into the Reverend Troutt. Rev. Troutt, a second-class passenger in the third-class Scotland Road, begins complaining about a “young German” who is mixing classes. Miss Hacker goes on to tell Carlson a story about how the Conklings used her in a most unpleasant way. Carlson leaves and goes to find Smethells to receive his message. Smethells tells Carlson that Willie wishes to meet with him. With many tasks still before him, Carlson goes to meet WIllie. Perhaps he will come to know more about this contorted and confusing scheme.

All credits to Cyberflix for an incredible and timeless game!

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Trying to kill a number of birds with one stone, Carlson has checked the Cargo Hold for the painting while on his way to the meet Miss Hacker, and then plans to tell Penny he did not find the painting. He makes for the Poop Deck via Scotland Road. He meets Shailagh and her brother Jack. Giving the smallest amount of information possible, they send you back to bargain with Conkling. On his way to Penny’s cabin he sees Georgia. She explains more about her situation, referencing the diamonds she gave Carlson. After Georgia leaves, Carlson makes his way to F-34 to talk to Penny. She is disappointed that he did not get the painting but then sends him to find Smethells, who has a message. Carlson makes his way back to first-class where he meets Lord Lambeth. Charles takes Carlson to the Smoking Room and, under the influence, informs Carlson of all the dark and sinister plans he and Sasha have concocted for Georgia. On his way to the Grand Staircase, Carlson returns Officer Morrow’s binoculars and enters the Bridge. After trying the steer the Titanic, he enters the Wireless Room to snag a telegram.

All credits to Cyberflix for an incredible and timeless game!