Starting a new Life

March 21, 1912. Buffeted by wind and rain, Jackie Byrne rushes down a filth-filled street in a slum of Dublin. One side of the street is for apartments and flats, the other for commonly shared outhouses. They are so full and need pumping that they constantly stink to the high heavens. Jackie smiles and thinks, “At least the rain and wind will wash away some of the crud.”

 Bursting through the front door, he shakes off the rain and calls to his mother. “Mum! I’m home!” Scurrying from the small kitchen to the tiny front room, a thin woman arrives with her grey braid wrapped into a bun. She’s wiping her hands on her apron.

           “Ah! Would ya look at the sight of ya!  Drippin’ wet with rain! Quick! Take off ya coat and hang it up by the fire.” She lifts herself on tip-toes and kisses her son. “How was your day, then?”

           “Muddy!” Jackie laughs as he kisses his mother’s cheek. “The horses are out all day long in weather like this. Rain is good for business. People like to take a Hanson rather than walk in the rain!”

           Their slum apartment is small, with only two bedrooms and a kitchen. There is a tiny space at the entrance. Jackie shares his room with his two nephews, who came to live with them after their mother died of consumption. Their father took up with a woman who doesn’t like children, so he sent them to live with their grandmother.

           Hanging up his coat, Jack reaches into the pocket and pulls out his pay envelope. “Look, Mum. I’ve got me monthly pay.” He removes the bills and gives his mother a five-pound note. “I’m sure you’ll find good use for that.” His mother looks as though she might cry. “Ah, Jackie. You’re the best boy in all of Dublin, I’ll tell ya that.” Jackie then calls up the stairs. “Boys! Get down here, you little scamps!” When his nephews come thundering down the stairs, Jackie smiles. “It’s payday for you two as well. Now, hold out your hands.” When the boys do, Jackie drops a six-pence in each. “There you are now. When it stops raining, you can run down to Goldstein’s candy shop and buy yourself a treat, hey?” Their grandmother prods, “Well! What do ya say then?” The boys look up with scruffy red hair and faces full of freckles, “T’anks, Uncle Jackie.” Jackie smiles, “Ya welcome boys. Now, off with ya. I need to talk with Granny.”

           Wringin' her apron, Granny says, “You’re too good to them. Giving away ya hard-earned money like that.”

           Walking into the kitchen, Jackie pulls out a chair. “Ah, them poor lads got nothin’ but you and me. Givin’ them a six-pence worth of happiness isn’t all that much of a hardship. Besides, I’ve got more news to tell ya. I’ve finally saved enough money to buy a ticket to America!”

           Jackie's mother’s forehead furrows as the corners of her mouth pull down. “ Ah, Jackie, what do ya have to go and start talkin’ like that for? Ya know I don’t want ya to go. I have a horrible feeling that somethin’ terrible is goin’ to happen.”

           “Spoken like a true Irish mother. Nothin’ is goin’ to go wrong. The ship I’ll be travelin’ on was built right here in Belfast by a fine group of Irish shipbuilders. I’ll be as safe as if I were in ya own two arms. And that’s the truth.”

           His mother cast a doubtful eye his way. “But supposin’, just supposin’ one of them lads missed puttin’ in a bolt or two. What would happen then?”

           Jackie throws back his head and laughs aloud. “Leave it to a mum to think of somethin’ like that! Mum! They could miss puttin’ in twenty bolts, and it still wouldn’t matter. Do ya know how tall this ship is? It’s fifty-three meters from the keel to the funnels! It’s a big boat!” Jackie laughs some more.

           His mother sticks out her bottom lip. “It’s just that I’m so afraid somethin’ will go wrong, is all. I wish we could stay here forever.”

           “Are ya daft, Mum? These slums aren’t any place to bring up boys! Goldstein might seem nice at the sweetshop, but don’t forget he owns most of the tenements here. I give him a quarter of me pay for rent! He gets rich, and we stay poor. Do ya remember my friend Sean Doyle, who I used to work with? Well, a couple of years back, he went to the States and ended up working at a stable in West Virginia. It turns out that the Americans love horse racing, and Sean is making lots of money because of it! He wrote me to say he could get me a job and is so confident he sent me enough money to pay for half me fare! Don’t ya see, Mum? If I go, I can pay back Sean and start savin’ up to get ya all to America. I got to get us out of this hell hole.”

           Jackie’s mother crosses her arms across her chest, her eyebrows pulled down. “ And what’s to become of your sweetheart Maire? Are you gonna leave her behind, then?”

           Jackie sighs, “No, Mum. I’ve already had a good talk with her about it, and she’s agreed to wait until I’ve got enough money to bring ya all across at the same time. So there ya have it! That’s the plan. Don’t ya be worryin’ your poor old grey head about it. Okay?” His mother reaches across the table and takes Jackie’s hands in hers. “God bless ya, son. You’re a good man.”

In the following weeks, Jackie ties up many loose ends. He gave his notice at work and was told they would gladly have him back if things didn’t work out. This made Jackie feel proud. 

He then goes to the Oceanic Steam Navigation Company to buy his ticket. Jackie appears before the ticket master, wearing his tweed cap and jacket with patches on the elbows. He gives the ticket master a big, toothy smile. “I would like to buy a ticket to America, please.” The ticket master looks Jackie up and down and says, “I suppose you prefer a first-class suite, sir? That will be eight hundred and fifty pounds.” Eyes as big as dinner plates, Jackie gasps, “Bloody Hell No!” He quickly scans the price list on the wall and blurts out, “Third class will be fine enough, thank you.” The ticket master smiles coyly, “Steerage. Of course, sir. That will be seven pounds, thank you.” The ticket master stamps a large sheet of paper with all the necessary information and hands it to Jackie. “Enjoy your voyage, sir.” Jackie folds his ticket and places it in the inside pocket of his jacket for safekeeping. After taking a few steps away, Jackie turns and looks back toward the office and thinks, “Steerage? What the hell do they think I am? A bloody cow?”

Two days before he leaves, Jackie and Maire spend the day together. They laugh, cry, and make promises. Holding Maire’s hands in his, Jackie tells her, “Now don’t you worry none. Just as soon as I’ve gotten the money, I’ll be sendin’ for you straight away.”

Maire frowns. “No, you won’t neither. You’ll immediately forget all about me and fall in love with an American girl.” Jackie smiles tenderly and takes Maire’s face in his big, strong hands. He studies her delicate porcelain skin, black shiny hair, and strikingly blue eyes. “I tell ya, there’s no more beautiful girl than you, Maire. I’ll never leave ya for another. And that’s the God’s honest truth.”

Jackie buys a night bus ticket to Southampton because it’s an eight-hour and thirty-minute ride from Dublin. Jackie boards the bus and places his satchel in the overhead rack. He then pats his coat pocket to reassure himself the ticket is still there. The man in the seat by the window smiles at him. “Looks like someone is going on an adventure.” “Aye, I am.” Jackie smiles. ‘ I’m heading to America! I’ve got meself a job waitin’ for me in West Virginia.”

“Well, isn’t that grand!” the stranger smiles. “It just so happens I’m sailing to the States myself. I’m a musician, and I play in the ship’s orchestra. Perhaps you’ll come and hear me.”

“I’ll try me best to do so,” Jackie promises. “But for now, I think I’ll try and get some sleep.” Jackie leans his head back and lowers his cap down over his eyes.

The bus’s brake squeals loudly as it stops at the Southampton seaport docks. Jackie retrieves his satchel and checks his coat pocket one last time. His ticket is still there. Relieved, he steps off the bus and into the parking lot. The musician steps up behind him, “What do you say we go to the ticket booth together and get our boarding passes? That way, we might have a little time to look around the ship before we sail.” 

On the walk over to the booth, a man comes staggering out of nowhere and runs right into Jackie. He’s reeking of whiskey and is patting Jackie all over, trying to smooth out Jackie’s jacket. “So sorry! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you alright?” Clenching his teeth, Jackie growls, “Get off me ya damn fool!” and shoves the man hard. The man mumbles, “I said I was sorry,” before bumping into another passenger. “Oops! Sorry, so sorry.” The musician shakes his head, “Are you alright? Good then, let’s go.”

The musician gets his pass, and the clerk says, “Next!”  Jackie reaches into his coat pocket, and his heart stops. The ticket’s gone. Eyes wide and throat dry, he searches his whole coat, pocket by pocket. The clerk says, “Ticket, please,” as if Jackie doesn’t understand. The musician turns and sees the horror on Jackie’s face. “What’s the matter? Is there something wrong?”

“Me ticket!” Jackie shouts. “Me ticket, I can’t find me ticket! It was right here all morning long, and now it’s gone!”

The clerk leans toward the window to speak. “Please step aside so the other passengers can get their loading passes. Thank you.”

With eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly gaped, Jackie feels the musician pull him to one side. “What do you mean it’s gone? Perhaps you drop it.”

With a furrowed brow and flushed face, Jackie demands he didn’t drop it

“Wait a minute. You don’t suppose that drunk was actually a pickpocket, do you? I tell you what, you wait here to see if he tries to use it for a loading pass while I go to the loading station and look for him there, okay?” Feeling all hope slipping away, Jackie slowly nods his head. 

Jackie tries to remember what the drunk looked like. He was wearing a bowler hat and a brown suit, or was it grey? He can’t recall. Besides, he never really looked at the man’s face, so what he wore didn’t matter.

Jackie approaches the clerk after the line of passengers trickles to a stop. After hearing Jackie’s story, the clerk grimaces and explains that he’ll tell the authorities but that there is little else he can do.

Jackie hears the ship blast its departure signal. It’s ten o’clock. Jackie walks down to the loading area, where many families and friends gather to bid goodbye. With a broken heart, he stands alone among the cheering people. The ship turns from its mooring dock to head out to sea. Jackie’s attention is drawn to the second deck by two men laughing and pointing. It’s the musician and the man who pretended to be drunk! They were in it together all along! And now they’re mocking him for being so dumb. Jackie cones his hands around his mouth and shouts, “I hope you fall into the sea and drown, you bastards!”

Jackie continues to watch the ship steam away until nothing was left to see of the RMS Titanic.