Transcript
Styles MacKenzie (0:01)
We interrupt this program to bring you an important Wayfair message. Wayfair's got style tips for every home. This is Styles MacKenzie helping you make those rooms sing. Today's Style Tip when it comes to making a statement, treat bold patterns like neutrals. Go wild like an untamed animal. Print area rug under a rustic farmhouse table. From wayfair.com this has been your Wayfair style tip to keep those interiors superior.
Geico Representative (0:27)
Wayfair Every style, Every home the Rest.
Paul Harvey (0:31)
Of the Story the torpedo boat destroyer HMS Falcon had been on North Sea patrol for less than two months now, almost two months without mishap. Still, there was anxiety among the crew. Maybe it was her commander, Lieutenant Charles Lightoller. L I G H T O L L E R Lightler. Maybe the men figured that he was drawing bad luck because look at what happened. Shortly after he'd been assigned to the Falcon, another British destroyer had accidentally rammed her in broad daylight. Not long after, Lightoller had crashed the Falcon into yet another friendly vessel while the latter was tied up in port. Now here they are in the North Sea. It's March 1918. German U boats prowling everywhere. Secretly, the seamen serving under Commander Lightoller believed that their troubles had only begun. Well, they were right. And this is the rest of the story. The Falcon, one of many British warships required to escort freighters to through enemy infested waters. Such convoy duty was particularly hazardous after dark, for all vessels had been ordered to proceed without lights. Commander Lightoller had witnessed the devastation of German torpedoes, and so minutes past midnight, April 1, when Lightoller, lying in his bunk, heard the noise and felt the jolt, he was certain that the Falcon had thus been attacked. The commander scrambled to the bridge, whereupon the error of his assumption became obvious. The Falcon once again had collided with one of her own fleet, and this time with the Admiralty trawler John Fitzgerald. And this time the trawler, her bow caved in, nonetheless remained intact. But the Falcon. This was a vessel built to last five years, almost 20 years previous, a thin hulled craft that could barely stand the buffeting of the North Sea. The Falcon had been ripped apart in the collision and was wallowing in the swell. A main steam pipe had fractured on impact. Lightoller ordered the ship's boilers blown down, the fires extinguished. Next he must get his men off the foundering Falcon. Half he transferred immediately to the John Fitzgerald. The rest clambered into lifeboats under the general order to abandon ship. Soon after the lifeboats had cleared, the Falcon lurched upward, her bow broke away with a resounding crack and she vanished into the night mist. And rustling in the whispers of the Falcon's crew was one phrase repeated over and over again, I told you so. For Commander Lightoller, under sail all his life though he was, had never managed to out distance nor to outsmart the Flying Dutchman of Calamity. For example, before he commanded the Falcon, he was first officer aboard the HMS oceanic when she was shipwrecked on a reef in Scottish waters. Before that, he served as second mate aboard the Night of St Michael when she caught fire and burned for weeks at sea. Before that, before he was aboard the night of St. Michael, he was shipwrecked in the Indian Ocean in a vessel called Holt Hill. But the crew of the Falcon was not pondering all of those misfortunes. When their craft went down in 1918, they had to be aware that one ship after another had met disaster while Charles Lightler was in command. But they were recalling one specific instance, one specific chapter in his disaster ridden life. Charles Lighteler, once upon a nightmare, April 1912, had served as second officer aboard the Titanic. And now you know the rest of the story.
