Post by BereniceUK on Apr 18, 2017 20:04:16 GMT
A representative of the Guardian had an interview on Monday afternoon with Mrs. Harriet Plank, a good natured English grandmother, whose oopinions of the old country are refreshing, after her life in Toronto for a couple of years. She was recovering from her shock at the home of her son-in-law, Mr. Weston, 19, Baker-street, Skerton. Mrs. Plank is the wife of Mr. David Plank, of 65, Silverthorn-avenue, Toronto, and formerly of 1, Lord-street, Skerton. He now holds the position of gateman on the Grand Trunk Railway. Several members of the family are on the other side of the Atlantic - four sons and three daughters - other branches are at Skerton. Mrs. Plank was paying a surprise visit to her married daughters in Baker-street and Myndon-street.
She left her Canadian home on Friday April 30th, for New York, and left the city in the Lusitania on May 1st. Her son saw her off, and there being rumours that the ship would be sunk, her son said "Mother, if they sink the ship you are on I will come and fight the Germans." He will have to come to the aid of the Canadian contingent.
Continuing her story the good lady said: We had a beautiful voyage till just after lunch on Friday. I was travelling second class, and after lunch I though I would go and lie down awhile. I went down to my cabin, and just threw myself down thinking I would have an hour's sleep. Had I done so I should have been drowned. As it was the last day I altered my mind, and decided to go and have a last chat with some of the people on deck whose acquaintance I had made. I had just sat down when there came an awful crash. It shook the whole vessel. I picked up my coat, and just then a lady rushed past, with clothes all wet. I found I could not stand, but someone said the vessel would right herself, and I went back. I felt uneasy when the men began to lower the boats, as I did not like the idea of risking myself in one.
I made myself ready to go down with the vessel, as I could see nothing else for it. But a man shouted, "come along, mother," and that just fetched me, or else I don't think I should have stirred. The boat was hanging so far from the side I hardly dared to go. "Now, jump, mother," the sailor said, and so I jumped. I fell athwart the boat, and bruised myself, but I was lucky, after all. Not more than two or three minutes elapsed after the vessel was hit by the torpedo before I was in the boat. The vessel steadily sank, and before our boatmen began to pull away, our deck was awash, and portmanteaux, wraps, perambulators, and deck chairs were floating. Our boat was crammed full, but we picked up whom we could, and eventually came up with another boat in which were two men. One of them was completely naked, and was given clothes by different people to cover him. I was one of those transferred to the second boat. We still continued to hover about. Among those picked up was a gentleman first-class passenger who was pulled into the boat with his face towards me and laid on my lap. The gentleman had only just been pulled into the boat when he turned his glassy eyes upon me and passed away. He continued laid with his head on my lap till we came up with a fishing smack an hour later. Meanwhile other passengers, feeling the effect of exposure, imploringly asked, "Hit me, hit me hard," and others begged water.
A woman on coming round screamed, "Oh, I have lost my baby!" I knew she had, but could not tell her. From the fishing smack we were transferred to a steam trawler, and thence to a steamer which took us to Queenstown. I changed boats four times after leaving the Lusitania. It was 20 minutes past two when I was taken off the Lusitania, and half-past nine when I got into Queenstown wet and shivering. At Queenstown sailors and soldiers lent us their greatcoats and escorted us to the hotel. There were lots of anxious inquiries at Queenstown. One little girl had lost father and mother, and began to cry. Another poor woman whose legs were black and blue had lost her husband. There was a man with one arm broken and one leg.
I sent a telegram to Skerton from Queenstown to tell them I was safe.
"We had just received the letter telling us she was coming when we heard the boat had gone down," added her daughter. "My brother, Hargreaves, went to Liverpool to meet her, but she came via Chester from Holyhead."
Mrs. Plank reached Lancaster at 7 p.m. on Sunday. Asked when she was going back, she replied: "I do not think ever. That trip will be enough for me. The golden West has lost its glamour for many more besides myself. There are thousands out of work in Toronto and other places."
Asked about the boat accommodation on the Lusitania, she expressed the view that the plugs had been left out of the boats to let the storm water through, and this caused several boats to sink. In the first boat she was in they were up to the knees in water. The wireless apparatus fell over the side amongst wreckage. The Lusitania appeared to be going very slow when she was struck in the engine-room, and would make an easy target for any torpedo.
(Lancaster Guardian, 15 May 1915)
She left her Canadian home on Friday April 30th, for New York, and left the city in the Lusitania on May 1st. Her son saw her off, and there being rumours that the ship would be sunk, her son said "Mother, if they sink the ship you are on I will come and fight the Germans." He will have to come to the aid of the Canadian contingent.
Continuing her story the good lady said: We had a beautiful voyage till just after lunch on Friday. I was travelling second class, and after lunch I though I would go and lie down awhile. I went down to my cabin, and just threw myself down thinking I would have an hour's sleep. Had I done so I should have been drowned. As it was the last day I altered my mind, and decided to go and have a last chat with some of the people on deck whose acquaintance I had made. I had just sat down when there came an awful crash. It shook the whole vessel. I picked up my coat, and just then a lady rushed past, with clothes all wet. I found I could not stand, but someone said the vessel would right herself, and I went back. I felt uneasy when the men began to lower the boats, as I did not like the idea of risking myself in one.
I made myself ready to go down with the vessel, as I could see nothing else for it. But a man shouted, "come along, mother," and that just fetched me, or else I don't think I should have stirred. The boat was hanging so far from the side I hardly dared to go. "Now, jump, mother," the sailor said, and so I jumped. I fell athwart the boat, and bruised myself, but I was lucky, after all. Not more than two or three minutes elapsed after the vessel was hit by the torpedo before I was in the boat. The vessel steadily sank, and before our boatmen began to pull away, our deck was awash, and portmanteaux, wraps, perambulators, and deck chairs were floating. Our boat was crammed full, but we picked up whom we could, and eventually came up with another boat in which were two men. One of them was completely naked, and was given clothes by different people to cover him. I was one of those transferred to the second boat. We still continued to hover about. Among those picked up was a gentleman first-class passenger who was pulled into the boat with his face towards me and laid on my lap. The gentleman had only just been pulled into the boat when he turned his glassy eyes upon me and passed away. He continued laid with his head on my lap till we came up with a fishing smack an hour later. Meanwhile other passengers, feeling the effect of exposure, imploringly asked, "Hit me, hit me hard," and others begged water.
A woman on coming round screamed, "Oh, I have lost my baby!" I knew she had, but could not tell her. From the fishing smack we were transferred to a steam trawler, and thence to a steamer which took us to Queenstown. I changed boats four times after leaving the Lusitania. It was 20 minutes past two when I was taken off the Lusitania, and half-past nine when I got into Queenstown wet and shivering. At Queenstown sailors and soldiers lent us their greatcoats and escorted us to the hotel. There were lots of anxious inquiries at Queenstown. One little girl had lost father and mother, and began to cry. Another poor woman whose legs were black and blue had lost her husband. There was a man with one arm broken and one leg.
I sent a telegram to Skerton from Queenstown to tell them I was safe.
"We had just received the letter telling us she was coming when we heard the boat had gone down," added her daughter. "My brother, Hargreaves, went to Liverpool to meet her, but she came via Chester from Holyhead."
Mrs. Plank reached Lancaster at 7 p.m. on Sunday. Asked when she was going back, she replied: "I do not think ever. That trip will be enough for me. The golden West has lost its glamour for many more besides myself. There are thousands out of work in Toronto and other places."
Asked about the boat accommodation on the Lusitania, she expressed the view that the plugs had been left out of the boats to let the storm water through, and this caused several boats to sink. In the first boat she was in they were up to the knees in water. The wireless apparatus fell over the side amongst wreckage. The Lusitania appeared to be going very slow when she was struck in the engine-room, and would make an easy target for any torpedo.
(Lancaster Guardian, 15 May 1915)