46

NEW YORK CITY, WALDORF-ASTORIA HOTEL.

FRIDAY, APRIL 19, 1912. 10:40 A.M.

Senator William Alden Smith of Michigan asked several questions about the nature of the collision and exactly how fast Titanic was traveling, but J. Bruce Ismay claimed limited knowledge of such things.

In fact, he still appeared to be in shock. His eyes only met the senator’s to express profound grief over the lives lost in the terrible disaster. In a voice barely above a whisper, Ismay claimed that he was only a passenger, just like all the others enjoying Titanic’s maiden voyage, and he had insufficient knowledge to explain the hows and whys of the tragedy.

“Just an ordinary passenger?” Senator Smith repeated skeptically.

The head of the White Star line claimed to have no idea the ship had an inadequate supply of lifeboats. He further went on to say that he never ordered anyone to push Titanic up to full speed.

Senator Smith turned his attention to Ismay’s rescue. The court stenographer noted their exchange:

SENATOR SMITH: What were the circumstances, Mr. Ismay, of your departure from the ship?

MR. ISMAY: In what way?

SENATOR SMITH: Did the last boat that you went on leave the ship from some point near where you were?

MR. ISMAY: I was immediately opposite the lifeboat when she left.

SENATOR SMITH: Immediately opposite?

MR. ISMAY: Yes.

SENATOR SMITH: What were the circumstances of your departure from the ship? I ask merely that …

MR. ISMAY: The boat was there. There was a certain number of men in the boat, and the officer called out asking if there were any more women, and there was no response, and there were no passengers left on the deck.

SENATOR SMITH: There were no passengers on the deck?

MR. ISMAY: No, sir; and as the boat was in the act of being lowered away, I got into it.

SENATOR SMITH: Naturally, you would remember that if you saw it? When you entered the lifeboat yourself, you say there were no passengers on that part of the ship?

MR. ISMAY: None.

SENATOR SMITH: Did you, at any time, see any struggle among the men to get into these boats?

MR. ISMAY: No.

SENATOR SMITH: Was there any attempt, as this boat was being lowered past the other decks, to have you take on more passengers?

MR. ISMAY: None, sir. There were no passengers there to take on.

The senator motioned for the stenographer to stop documenting the proceedings. He approached Ismay and paused a long moment before continuing.

“And now, Mr. Ismay, off the record,” he said. “Is there anything else you’d care to discuss? The committee has heard certain rumors, several of them of a particularly disturbing nature.”

Ismay’s eyes looked haunted. “I’ve spoken about all I know,” he said hoarsely. “The event was a horror. Everyone sees things differently in such total chaos, and memories of terror are usually the flimsiest. The mind is desperate to move on—and for good reason.”

Senator Smith knew then he would never get any more truth from J. Bruce Ismay.

The inquiry went on for seventeen more days, but outside the hotel, New York’s daily papers were already passing judgment.

“Coward of the Century!” hawked a newsboy, holding up a paper with a picture of a defeated Ismay for all to see.

A young girl stopped to read the headline. She was about the same age as the newsboy, with a skinned nose, worn skirt, and rusty hair. She flipped a coin in the air and took a copy of the paper to read later.

While walking down the bustling streets of New York, she stared at the faces as they passed by, one after another, bright and full of life. She was ready to journey to Iowa, to start her own life anew and grateful for the chance.