We pause to remember...
15 May 1934, Sinking of the Nantucket Lightship -- During the night of 14 May 1934 RMS Olympic, sister-ship to the lost Titanic, was homing in on the lightship's radio beacon. Nearly 75 times larger than the 630-ton lightship, the White Star liner was steaming at about 20 knots in the center of the western terminus of the trans-Atlantic shipping lanes. By 5:00 am on the morning of 15 May, Olympic was in thick fog that necessitated the reduction of its speed to 16 knots, then 12 knots.
The lightship's radio signal and fog signals were picked up by Olympic at about 10:55 am and appeared to be off the ship's starboard bow. Captain John Binks ordered Olympic's course to be changed ten degrees to port and her speed to be reduced to 10 knots. Her radio operator attempted unsuccessfully to make contact with LV-117 to determine her exact position, but the fog signals could still be heard, apparently at a longer distance off the starboard bow. It appeared that Olympic was well clear of the lightship, but a few minutes later the lookout spotted LV-117 dead ahead. Binks ordered the ship's rudder to be set full to port, the engines to be set full speed astern, and the watertight doors to be closed throughout the vessel. Olympic slowed to only about 3 knots but it was too late and she collided with the side of the lightship at 11:06 am. at 40°37′2″N 69°37′6″W. Although she was not moving fast, her sheer weight (52,000 tons when fully fuelled), and thus her kinetic energy, completely wrecked the smaller vessel.
Olympic's passengers barely noticed the collision, which First Class passenger Sir Arthur Steel-Maitland registered only as a "slight jar". The changed settings of the engines were much more noticeable, sending vibrations throughout the ship as they were put into reverse and brought up to maximum revolutions. Passengers came onto the deck to find out what was going on and were met by the smell of oil and the sight of debris in the sea around Olympic.
For those aboard LV-117, the collision was felt much more directly. "We saw the Olympic loom out of the fog a short distance away," stated C.E. Mosher, LV-117's first mate, in a newspaper interview two months after the accident. "The visibility was only 500 feet. A crash was inevitable. I sounded the collision alarm. We all donned life preservers. Then we waited." When the collision came, said Mosher, "it was more like a hard push and a terrific shaking, a crunching and grinding. It was not a loud smash as one might expect. The Olympic kept coming through ..." John Perry told the press, "At the time of the smash I was in the radio cabin. I barely had time to get on deck and swim for my life." Robert Laurent commented that as "it all happened so quickly, you had no chance to panic. We all had our life preservers and it was a good thing that we did."
Olympic responded extremely rapidly to the accident. The portside emergency lifeboat had already been swung outboard and was lowered just before Olympic came to a halt. The starboard emergency boat was launched a few minutes later, along with one of Olympic's motor boats.
The scene was described by The New York Times: "Nosing through the dense pall of the fog, the boats searched the area for almost two hours, while those on board the liner prayed for their success. A hatch drifted past, bearing the figure of an unconscious man. Shouts from the liner directed one of the lifeboats to the rescue. The same boat picked up a swimmer not far away, and the floating body of a man who appeared to be dead went past. The lifeboats disappeared from sight in the murk and the watchers from the liner waited breathlessly. A red buoy bearing the name 'Nantucket' floated by, informing most of the passengers for the first time what they had struck. After three-quarters-of-an-hour the starboard lifeboat came into view. As those who eagerly lined the rails saw that it contained only one figure aside from those at the oars, and that [figure was] motionless, they groaned. But a minute later the port boat appeared with five or six men in the blue 'monkey suits' of the Lighthouse Service. Two of those also appeared to be lifeless. One man in civilian clothes, Captain Braithwaite, sat stiff and upright ... a cut on his head bled profusely ..."
The three boats managed to rescue seven of the lightship's eleven crewmen and brought them aboard, but three of the seven died in Olympic's hospital. Captain Braithwaite, First Mate C.E. Mosher, Radio Operator John Perry and Oiler Laurent Robert all survived the disaster. Engineer William Perry, Oiler Justin Richmond, Cook Alfred Montero, First Cook I. Pinna, Seaman E.B. George, Seaman John Fortes and Seaman John Rodriques did not survive the sinking.
The lightship had sunk so quickly that anyone below decks had little chance of surviving.
Binks ordered Olympic to resume course for New York at 12:29 pm once it had become clear that there were no more survivors. The liner had suffered only minimal damage in the collision, comprising some dented hull plates which were repaired in a dry dock in Southampton in May–June 1934. She was allowed to leave New York at the scheduled time on 17 May after a brief inspection. The dependents of those killed in the accident were given restitution through the United States Employees's Compensation Act.
Image: Painting "Lightship Nantucket Collision Sunk by RMS Olympic" by artist Charles J. Mazoujian (Courtesy of US Coast Guard.)
Elizabeth Victoria Montgomery (April 15, 1933 – May 18, 1995) died 28 years ago today at the age of 62. She is best remembered as the star of the TV series Bewitched.
The daughter of Robert Montgomery, she began her career in the 1950s with a role on her father's television series Robert Montgomery Presents. In the 1960s, she rose to fame as Samantha Stephens on the ABC sitcom Bewitched. Her work on the series earned her five Primetime Emmy Award nominations and four Golden Globe Award nominations. After Bewitched ended its run in 1972, Montgomery continued her career with roles in numerous television films. In 1974, she portrayed Ellen Harrod in A Case of Rape and Lizzie Borden in the 1975 television film The Legend of Lizzie Borden. Both roles earned her additional Emmy Award nominations.
Montgomery was married four times, most notably to actor producer/director William Asher with whom she had three children. Her final marriage was to actor Robert Foxworth, with whom she lived for twenty years before marrying in 1993.
Montgomery died of colorectal cancer in May 1995, eight weeks after being diagnosed with the disease.
Montgomery played the central role of lovable witch Samantha Stephens with Dick York (and later with Dick Sargent) as her husband in the ABC situation comedy Bewitched. Starting in the second season of the series, she also played the role of Samantha's mischievous cousin, Serena, under the pseudonym Pandora Spocks.
Bewitched became a ratings success (it was, at the time, the highest-rated series ever for the network). The series aired for eight seasons, from 1964 to 1972, and remains popular through syndication and DVD releases. The show had been renewed for a ninth season to run from 1972 to 1973.
Montgomery, however, had fallen in love with director Richard Michaels and moved in with him, ending any possibility of another season. Despite its poor showing in the ratings, the show was still contracted for a ninth season.
However, Elizabeth Montgomery's marriage to William Asher was in trouble and the couple had separated by the end of the eighth season. As a consolation to ABC, Montgomery and Asher (under their company name Ashmont, which produced Bewitched) offered a half-hour sitcom to the network starring Paul Lynde. As a result, after eight years, Bewitched was canceled and ABC picked up The Paul Lynde Show for the 1972–1973 season. Lynde's series lasted only one year.
In a parody of her Samantha Stephens role, she made a cameo appearance as a witch at the end of the beach party film How to Stuff a Wild Bikini (1965).
This was directed by William Asher, her husband at the time. That same year she also provided the voice of Samantha for an episode of the animated series The Flintstones.
Montgomery received five Emmy and four Golden Globe nominations for her role on Bewitched. The show added to the increasing popularity of the name Samantha. It was first recorded in 18th century New England of unknown etymology, and, while relatively rare until 1958, has remained consistently popular since 1965 due chiefly to Montgomery's character.
Montgomery returned to Samantha-like twitching of her nose and on-screen magic in a series of Japanese television commercials (1980–83) for "Mother" chocolate biscuits and cookies by confectionery conglomerate Lotte Corp. These Japanese commercials provided a substantial salary for Montgomery while she remained out of sight of non-Japanese fans and the Hollywood industry.
In the United States, Montgomery spent much of her later career pursuing dramatic roles that took her as far away from the good-natured Samantha as possible.
Among her later roles were performances that brought her Emmy Award nominations: a rape victim in A Case of Rape (1974); the accused (but later acquitted) murderess Lizzie Borden in William Bast's The Legend of Lizzie Borden (1975); and a pioneer woman facing hardship in 1820s Ohio in the mini-series The Awakening Land (1978).
Elizabeth Montgomery and Lizzie Borden were sixth cousins once removed, both descending from 17th-century Massachusetts resident John Luther. Rhonda McClure, the genealogist who documented the Montgomery-Borden connection after Montgomery's death, said "I wonder how Elizabeth would have felt if she knew she was playing her own cousin."
In 1977, Montgomery played a police detective having an affair with her married partner, played by O.J. Simpson, in A Killing Affair. She played a rare villainous role in the 1985 television movie Amos, as a vicious nurse in a home for senior citizens who abuses her wards, played by, among others, Kirk Douglas and Dorothy McGuire. One of her last roles was in an episode of Batman: The Animated Series entitled "Showdown," in which she played a barmaid; this was also her final work to be screened, since the episode aired posthumously.
Her last television series was the highly rated Edna Buchanan detective series - the second and final film of the series received its first airing on May 9, 1995, only nine days before her death. In the spring of 1995, Montgomery was diagnosed with colorectal cancer. She had ignored the flu-like symptoms during the filming of Deadline for Murder: From the Files of Edna Buchanan, which she finished filming in late March 1995.
By the time the cancer was diagnosed, it was too late for medical intervention. With no hope of recovery and unwilling to die in a hospital, she chose to return to the Beverly Hills home that she shared with Foxworth. Early on the morning of May 18, 1995, Montgomery died at home eight weeks after her diagnosis. She was 62. On June 18, 1995, a memorial service was held at the Canon Theatre in Beverly Hills. Herbie Hancock provided the music, and Dominick Dunne spoke about their early days as friends in New York City.
Other speakers included her husband, Robert Foxworth, who read sympathy cards from fans, her nurse, her brother, her daughter, and her stepson. Her remains were cremated and inurned at Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery.
Elizabeth Montgomery had a summer home in Patterson, New York, in Putnam County. Following her death, the 800-acre (320 ha) estate was sold to New York State and became Wonder Lake State Park.
What Orwell feared were those who would ban books. What Huxley feared was that there would be no reason to ban a book, for there would be no one who wanted to read one.
Orwell feared those who would deprive us of information. Huxley feared those who would give us so much that we would be reduced to passivity and egoism. Orwell feared that the truth would be concealed from us. Huxley feared the truth would be drowned in a sea of irrelevance. Orwell feared we would become a captive culture. Huxley feared we would become a trivial culture, preoccupied with some equivalent of the feelies, the orgy porgy, and the centrifugal bumblepuppy.
As Huxley remarked in Brave New World Revisited, the civil libertarians and rationalists who are ever on the alert to oppose tyranny "failed to take into account man's almost infinite appetite for distractions."
"In 1984", Huxley added, "people are controlled by inflicting pain. In Brave New World, they are controlled by inflicting pleasure." In short, Orwell feared that what we hate will ruin us. Huxley feared that what we love will ruin us. ~Neil Postman
(Book: Amusing Ourselves to Death https://amzn.to/3WqM0kU)
At the World Championships in Budapest in June, USA’s Anita Alvarez sank to the bottom of the pool.
Looking across the deck, then noticing she was under way too long, her coach, Andrea Fuentes immediately dove in after her fully clothed, pulling her to safety. Anita was unconscious and didn’t have the capacity to kick, paddle, or help herself in any way.
If Andrea would not have noticed, she would have drown.
But she knew Anita. She looked for her, quickly noticed she was under too long, then dove in without thinking twice.
This has resonated with me….
When you are under too long, who are the people that will look for you, notice, and dive in to pull you to the surface when you lose your strength to swim?
Who are the people that would do that for you?
And can someone count on you to be that person that would go looking and notice when they are under too long, diving in to support them when they are all out of fight and fuel to swim in these turbulent waters we call life?
-Written by Jakkia Ambler Hollingsworth
In 1908, Houdini stood at the edge of the Harvard Bridge—commonly referred to as the Mass. Ave. Bridge—and was shackled by a Boston patrolman. His hands were handcuffed behind his back and chained to a collar around his neck. According to a Boston Globe article chronicling the feat, a signal was tooted from a towboat, and Houdini went overboard into the chilly waters below.
“There is always the possibility that I will be unable to free myself, as one never can tell what will happen to a lock,” Houdini told the newspaper. “However, I am a good swimmer, have confidence in myself, and I hope to perform this feat successfully.”
The Globe estimated some 20,000 spectators gathered to see Houdini’s leap, including the mayors of Boston and Cambridge. They waited 40 seconds for the magician to resurface, which he did with the shackles in his hands.
Oscar Wilde may never have been inspired to pen his classic novel (and later movie) “The Picture of Dorian Gray” if not for his introduction to a certain talented young artist during his visit to Ottawa in May of 1882.
That meeting led the controversial playwright to evolve a close and lasting friendship with Miss Frances Richards, who had been head of the Ottawa School of Art at the time.
Some years later Miss Richards painted Wilde’s portrait while in London. In a subsequent interview Wilde commented that he had said in jest “What a tragic thing it is. The portrait will never grow old and I shall. If only it was the other way!” and reported that “at the moment I said this it occurred to me what a capital plot the idea would make for a story.”
During Wilde’s visit to Ottawa, the flamboyant Irishman had been received like royalty — dining with the prime minister, Sir John A. Macdonald and his wife… and attending a session of Parliament seated at the side of the Speaker on the floor of the House of Commons.
This did not prevent Wilde from expressing blunt observations about the extent to which Ottawa’s air and waterways were befouled by smoke and sawdust (and noting that our shops were ugly too).
The Ottawa Citizen snapped back, criticizing the lecture he had given here on May 16, 1882 as “dull” and mocking the “outre” manner in which Wilde wore his hair, alongside his black velvet suit and heavy lace cuffs and collar.
Oscar Wilde was only 28 at the time of his visit to Canada’s capital and yet was already a well known controversial figure.
Thirteen years later Wilde would be imprisoned for gross indecency stemming from his relationship with the youngest son of the Marquis of Queensbury.
After his release from jail, his health broken and bankrupt from legal fees, Wilde lived out his remaining time as an impoverished social outcast in France until his untimely death at the age of 46.
Brockville-born Frances Richards lived until 1934 and her works are represented in the National Gallery of Canada and her portrait of her uncle, the first Chief Justice of Canada, still hangs in the Supreme Court building.
James Powell tells more about Oscar Wilde's visit to Ottawa in May of 1882:
https://todayinottawashistory.wordpress.com/2015/01/17/the-aesthete