SAVE ALL WHO DARE THE EAGLE’S FLIGHT
Epilogue

O Spirit, whom the Father sent
To spread across the firmament
O wind of heaven, by Thy might
Save all who dare the eagle’s flight…

TITANIC SURVIVOR DIES AT 71

Angelica Ryan (nee Marshall) died this morning at the age of seventy-one in her Monterey home. Mrs. Ryan is reported to have died in her sleep from heart complications.

"I think I can speak for the whole family when I say that our main consolation is that she felt no pain," Thomas Ryan, eldest son of the deceased, said today.

Mrs. Ryan is a survivor of the famous Titanic accident; coincidentally, her death is the fifty-fifth anniversary of the sinking. She was the only lady to have gotten aboard Collapsible B. Mrs. Ryan was sixteen at the time and declined to speak to reporters about the incident. Mrs. Ryan married Gabriel Ryan in 1925; incidentally, he was the brother of a victim of the sinking that it is believed Mrs. Ryan was acquainted with. Mr. Ryan passed on in 1964. Mrs. Ryan is survived by three sons, a daughter, two daughters-in-law, one son-in-law, and four grandchildren, with a fifth on the way.

"If it’s a girl, we’re naming her after Mama," Cora James (nee Ryan) announced of her unborn child.

April 20, 1967

I am not Angie Marshall; I am her son, Tommy Ryan. My mother died five days ago. She told me on her deathbed about this trunk in the attic, the trunk that held hundreds of articles and pictures about the RMS Titanic. I found this at the top, along with a note that this was first and foremost for my eyes; after that, I could do with it as I wished. I have decided to preserve this and show it to my children when they come of age.

Growing up with Mama, you would never know that she had ever been through something so traumatic. She used to pinch us when we were in a sour mood; she said life was too short to waste on sulking. And it really is. Dad, Uncle Lights, Eugene, Maggie, Bertha, and Harry (Bride) are all dead; I suppose it was only a matter of time before Mama would follow them.

Mama didn’t tell me until I was sixteen that she had been on the Titanic. I was stunned, to say the least. She didn’t go into much detail; all she would say was that she had been a steerage passenger and that she had been aboard Collapsible B. She admitted that Uncle Lights, Eugene, Maggie, Bertha, and Harry were also survivors, which was how she knew them in the first place. Dad later told me privately that her friends had died that night, along with his brother, whom she had also known. I was also asked to never bring it up if I could help it.

On her deathbed, Mama kept talking about the Titanic. She would grasp at the bed sheets and mumble something about the ship. I could not for the life of me interpret these hazy moments; after reading her story, I can now. She died in peace—although the doctors have confirmed it was heart complications, she never awoke and was never aware of what was going on. In fact, she had a serene expression on her face.

I write this in the back of her story because I feel that it is only right for her descendants to know how she died and to appreciate the woman that she was. I never realized it until it was too late.

I know now that she is in a far better place than earth, that now she is with all those whom she lost fifty-five years ago. May all of them rest in peace.

*****

I am floating down to the Titanic once again—something tells me this is the last time I shall ever do so. This is more vivid, more real than my dreams. The clutching in my heart has stopped; I feel completely painless now. I feel as if I am floating. The ship is reassembling itself; it’s completely unrecognizable from the wreck it was. I’m gliding down the first class deck—why does it seem so familiar to me? I am going without thinking; there is something pulling me. But even so, I want to go.

I come to a stop at familiar glass doors. I catch a fleeting glimpse at my reflection in the glass; I am sixteen again. Before this can register well in my mind, the doors are opened by uniformed stewards.

"We’ve been expecting you, miss," one says.

I smile at him and glide through; are my feet even touching the ground? But as I fully enter the room, I know that they are not; I am finally here forever now. I move past a blend of faces, some familiar and others not. I see the Cartmells; I try to apologize, but they all shake their heads, beaming.

"Don’t blame yourself, Angie," they tell me.

The Gunderson cousins dip their heads at me, smiling. The McFarlands are waving at me; I wave back. They won’t let me apologize either.

Fabrizio and Helga are still where they were before; it is as if they have never moved from their places. Jack is still on the stairs, looking at the clock. Tommy—the first one—steps out from the throng and beams. He looks so handsome without a cigarette in his mouth; he’s glowing.

"Can I stay here forever now, Tommy?" I ask. The years have washed away. I am no longer an old woman of seventy-one; I’m fresh and young at sixteen again.

Tommy nods, still beaming and glowing. All of them are glowing. I’m glowing, too. "Aye, lass; it’s your time."

I kiss his cheek and move to Helga and Fabrizio; I am the happiest I have ever been and also the calmest. Fabrizio grasps my hands and kisses both my cheeks while Helga welcomes me "home;" I can understand her Norwegian now. Is she even speaking Norwegian? Are we even speaking English? We seem to understand each other without even needing to speak. Finally, I move up to Jack.

"Where’s Rose?" I ask him as he turns. I am not jealous or upset; I want to see her.

He shakes his blond head, smiling just as contentedly as everyone else. "It’s not her time yet. But she’ll come soon."

He kisses my forehead; I love him, but I am no longer in love with him. Everything is as it should be.

"Welcome back to Titanic, Angie," he says, squeezing my hand. Everyone applauds as I turn to look at them.

I am home. I am home.

The End.

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