Back in 2005 when I made my first driving tour of England, an item on my itinerary was the shipyards at Southhampton, from which both Mayflower and Titanic sailed. One made it. One didn't. Nearby is a column dedicated to the first ship.
But when I drove into the shipyard gates (competing not with tourists but with the everyday traffic of a working shipyard), I was directed to two small plaques set at the side of the road.
I won't be revisiting Titanic movies this year. I know the story all too well. I'm still haunted by a story told by a survivor who lived near a baseball stadium and could not bear the sound of the roar from the crowd. A roar had risen from the dark Atlantic the night the Titanic went down. And then there was silence.
