Before you read Rose Amelia Ickard's deathbed letter about the fateful night the Titanic sank tomorrow, you should consider whether Jack Dawson actually took the Titanic.
A headstone bearing the number 227 rests forever on the Titanic at Fairview Lawn Cemetery in Halifax. It is inscribed J. Dawson in clear English script. Below it, the date of his death was 15th April 1912, the same day as the dawn of the night of the sinking of the ship. A Susana pillar, which had been in Valbihi for nine decades, was left behind a question mark.
Is J. Dawson the young lover named Jack Dawson? The question everyone was left with came. Therefore, many were anxious to find the patikiri in J. Dawson's history.
On May 8, 1912, the SS McKay-Bennett, which had escaped from the ice and recovered a huge number of corpses that were floating along the Atlantic Ocean, had recovered one more corpse that was stoned. The body, which could be said to be about twenty-five years old, was covered with a national sailor's uniform, and the only possession was an ID card with a photo in a pocket. The name plate bearing the number 35638 had J. Dawson written on it.
J. Dawson searched the Titanic passenger list for a passenger. No! No one was there. Then the Titanic crew check-in register. There was clear evidence that someone had boarded the ship with the signature of J. Dawson. Matters were delved into. He is a worker. Coal was loaded into the huge boiler room of the ship. His temporary address was listed as 70 Britton Street, Southampton and his permanent address was Dublin, Ireland.
Accordingly, on the night of the ship's sinking, J. Dawson, a laborer, who had been resting for a long time at the end of his shift, went to the ship's deck when the boiler rooms were filled with cold sweat, took off his boots and swam to the depths of the ship with the intention of surviving the moment the ship sank. , may have jumped into the ice-cold Atlantic waters thinking that he would swim until he saw land to save his life. Oh! In that, he is disillusioned. Was the bone-marrow-tickling cold stoned and twisted? Are you alone in the depths of exhaustion after swimming far and wide? Have you sunk to the bottom of the sea and suffocated due to the huge suction of the sinking ship? Have you not received anything to go to the port itself? A loving hand or longing for help, warmth, comfort? Only you, Mr. Dawson, know that. Since you were stilled by death, and you could not write anything like Rose, we are inexorably at the bottom of your fate. That said, the matter cannot be settled there.
About a mile outside the center of Dublin, Ireland, is a nursing home. There was another eighty-eight-year-old Dawson, the progenitor of the Dawson family, who spent his life solving a puzzle among the newspapers. Her name is Mae Dawson. 1912 is recorded as the year of her birth and among her forgotten memories there are memories of the stories told by others about a Dawson brother who went to America on a ship of great pleasure and was barely a shadow. The name of that unseen brother is Joseph. Joseph Dawson.
Friends, J. Dawson is not Jack Dawson but Joseph Dawson is left before us. Although he may not be Jack Dawson, Joseph's story is also an amazing one.
In September 1888, a priest in a slum in Dublin gave birth to a weak baby. Hay was named Joseph. On the same day that Jack the Ripper, who found prostitutes in London far away from Dublin and killed them, a child named Joseph, who was not Jack, was born from the womb of such a woman. Joseph's birth was not registered as the father, Patrick Dawson, never married a woman named Catherine Maiden. I will not tell the details of the hardship that little Joseph went through during that unfortunate period. Considering the matters of birth, time and place, I will leave the tragedy of that misery to you to think about.
However, Joseph, a conman, became a handyman in a carpenter's shop when his accomplices were engaged in theft. As he grew older, he became an expert in the industry, creating beautiful paintings with a delicate hand, as well as decorative furniture with a hard hand. Dawson, suffering from his mother's danger on the brink of youth, took his grandmother Margaret, who was four years younger than him, and left Ireland by boat in search of an uncle named Tom who lived in Liverpool, England.
There, Margaret chose domestic service and Joseph the army. Joseph, who joined the British Royal Army Medical Corps, was posted to Netley. Joseph was pushing back against his destiny. From Netley to Southampton was only three miles.
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