Titanic Impressions

One hundred and one years ago tomorrow the Titanic disaster occurred on her maiden trans-Atlantic voyage. Sailing calm seas under a moonless sky on the evening of April 14th, 1912, this seagoing miracle of industry plied the waters of the North Atlantic. At 11:40 p.m. she hit an iceberg and sunk just over two-and-a-half hours later.

Picture is taken from a contemporary newsreel introducing the Titanic. With the dockworker in front, it is easy to imagine the enormous size of the ship.

The following year Grandpa Foy was called on a mission to Holland and later served in the army during and after the first world war. Returning home from either event he would have traveled the same ill-fated route as the Titanic and just a few short years after the event. One of those times he traveled over the very position of the catastrophe. Years later Leslie wrote down his impressions of the experience and the position of man in a perilous world:

The port of Brest, France, taken by Leslie Foy.

Experience of Leslie T. Foy

"It was my opportunity - once - to sail over the identical spot where the Titanic sank. I have thought of this many times in my more serious moments - just as I, then, reflected the fullness and significance of it.

"We had been notified that morning by our captain that we were approaching the spot where the Titanic went down and that his ship would send out signals as we reached the exact latitude and longitude.

"I recall now, vividly, just how I felt as the ship's fog horns sounded this salute. My heart seemed almost to stop as did the great ship upon which we were afloat . . . it too seemed almost to shudder at what had happened as there passed before my memory's eyes - a panorama of that fateful day. I beheld the Mistress of the Sea - the Titanic, then the World's largest and most palatial steamer and it's cargo of human lives . . . lives teaming with a fullness of all that the then prosperous and socially intoxicated world had to offer. I saw the magnivicent dining room with its social elite, its diplomats, Millionaires; Elbert Hubbard, the writer, and his like. I saw wine and women, bands, dancing and what not - all so engrossed in the magnitude of the thing that - not even the sentinel in his look-out, or the captain at his helm even dreamed that in the short space of a few minutes the great titanic would be sleeping just one mile down directly beneath where we then cruised. I beheld in my memory all these things - and more, but mainly I came face to face with the solemn reality of the insignificance of man - the nothingness of the great Titanic - and the mere speck that man is of minself in the great plan of life. 

"Yes! How unimportant MAN IS ALONE but how great he might become in God's omnipotent plan."

As we chart our own courses through life, we might remember Grandfather's insights.

Note: Grandpa's memory has been typed exactly as he wrote it except with the correction of a few spelling errors. Whether these were his errors or a later typist's is impossible to tell so I eliminated them. Thanks to the geniuses of technology that created spell check.

Resilience

Both Uncle Lewis and Uncle LeGrande served in World War II. My favorite memory of the Foy uncles and my dad Forest was at a Foy party. They were huddled together plotting a practical joke. The planning must have been half the fun because they were more than laughing: hooting, giggling and altogether enjoying themselves.



Left to Right. Back Row: Lewis Call, LeGrande Brough, Connie Foy, Leslie Foy, Forest Barker, Gerald Moore. Front Row: Jean Call, Julia Brough, Florence Foy, Inez Barker, Sarah Moore.

 I got to thinking about them after reading the article "Accidental Hero: Human Kindness in the Midst of Holocaust Horror" today in the Deseret News. Marta Fuchs told the story of her father whose life was saved by a Hungarian named Zoltan Kubinyi, a compassionate work camp officer. Zoltan was posthumously given the designation of Righteous Among Nations for his protection of Jews and among those memorialized each year at this time of year during Yom HaShoah, a national day of remembrance in Israel.

In addition to the moving story told about this hero, Fuchs tells how important it is to know and retell family history. Her father had, like so many survivors of wars, kept his horrifying experiences private until his daughter volunteered their family for a library project. Marta says, "I believe that knowing your history is knowing who you are. It gives you a sense of direction and continuity. We are all shaped by that."

In explaining the Israeli memorial the article quotes Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, "We cannot bring the dead back to life, but we can bring their memory back to life and ensure they are not forgotten." While recording history and remembrance of the participants are worthy goals in themselves, there is a practical result as well. I had read an excerpt of the book Secrets of Happy Families by Bruce Feiler in Parade Magazine which gave validation for teaching family history. Coincidentally, my cousin Linda also posted to the Foy-ever Family Facebook page a link to another article "The Stories that Bind Us" by Fieler detailing "myth-shattering research" which back with scientific evidence the truth that we have been taught since Joseph Smith was given to understand the reference in Malachi to Elijah's mission.   We should not be surprised to find that there are hidden blessings, earthly ones, to doing the genealogical research and sharing the family history stories.

Marshall Duke and Robyn Fivush at Emory University conducted research in the mid-1990s which showed that "the more children know about their family's history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives and the higher their self-esteem. The reason: These children have a strong sense of 'intergenerational self' - they understand that they belong to something bigger than themselves..." These children exhibited more resilience to the vagaries of life (Parade 7).

Love to you all; go out and share a story!
Fawn

Shared by Linda in comments:

From Uncle Lewis' journal:
“We had been on the water about a week and were about a day out of Leyte, a Philippine island. We were to stop here and put off mail and pick up mail to be delivered to the men in Manila another part of the Philippines. During the morning it began to rain, only as it can rain in the South Pacific. It really poured. You couldn’t even see the other ships in the convoy and we were in very close formation. I guess it rained for a good half-hour and then stopped almost instantly. I got out from under my cover and walked to the side of the ship and I saw two torpedoes coming at us. One missed the front of our ship, but not by very far. The second one went behind our ship and hit the one next to us. There was a terrific explosion. It hit towards the back of the ship where the ammunition was stored. It blew it right apart and the back 100-feet sunk in less than a minute taking most of the crew with it. The other part of the ship with its supplies and soldiers just floated away. The front part of these ships was built so that they were almost unsinkable. By this time a Destroyer passed us putting down a smoke screen. They went down each side and the 238 sub-chaser was dropping depth charges. It was only a matter of a few minutes until we couldn’t see any ships the smoke was so thick. One of the protective ships went back and picked up the men off the floating part of the LST that had been torpedoed.

“I want to bear testimony to any one that reads this that God does live and that he does bless those who keep his commandments and serve him. Those torpedoes were meant to hit our ship, but somewhere along the journey the Lord took a hand and they missed the ship that I was on with nine other returned missionaries. We were very close and spent much of our time together. These were the only missionaries or members that I knew about out of all the men on these ships. I am convinced that the Lord directed us and saw that we were all together. He certainly protected us and I thank God for sparing my life."