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Seven Minutes Late: A Story of the Titanic
Seven Minutes Late: A Story of the Titanic
Seven Minutes Late: A Story of the Titanic
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Seven Minutes Late: A Story of the Titanic

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Phyllis Titus grew up hearing the story of a grandfather shed never met who booked passage on the Titanic and missed its departure by seven minutes. Shed always wondered how this happened, and what could possibly have kept him from boarding the ship. It was not until 1997, while attending the Memphis opening of Titanic-The Exhibition, that her questions were finally answered. Thats when she learned about the purpose for her grandfathers European trip, the mysterious woman he met while travelling across the Atlantic, their planned rendezvous at the Southampton Dock before returning to the States on Titanics maiden voyage, and the reason why he never made it aboard.

In the years since then, Mrs. Titus has shared a condensed version of this story with countless people, including strangers who ask her to explain the meaning of the 7MINSL8 message on her license plates.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherWestBow Press
Release dateJul 31, 2017
ISBN9781512787849
Seven Minutes Late: A Story of the Titanic
Author

Phyllis A. Titus

Born in Memphis, Tennessee, near the bluffs of the Mississippi River, Phyllis Titus lived in Texas, Missouri, and Colorado before settling in Nebraska in 1995. She is the mother of two adult sons and is co-founder and president of Homeschool Teen Serve, Inc., a Federal 501(C)3 organization which offers community service opportunities to homeschooled teens.

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    Book preview

    Seven Minutes Late - Phyllis A. Titus

    Copyright © 2017 Phyllis A. Titus.

    illustrator: Hannah S. Segura

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

    This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

    All scriptures are from the KING JAMES VERSION (KJV): KING JAMES VERSION, public domain

    WestBow Press

    A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.westbowpress.com

    1 (866) 928-1240

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    ISBN: 978-1-5127-8785-6 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-5127-8786-3 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-5127-8784-9 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2017907954

    WestBow Press rev. date: 07/11/2017

    Contents

    Foreword

    A Word From The Author

    Dedication

    Chapter 1 The Packing

    Chapter 2 The Parting

    Chapter 3 The Boarding

    Chapter 4 The Conversation

    Chapter 5 The Testimony

    Chapter 6 The Agreement

    Chapter 7 The Tenth Of April

    Chapter 8 The News

    Chapter 9 The Change In Plans

    Chapter 10 The Journey Home

    Chapter 11 The Return

    Chapter 12 The Diamonds

    Lessons From The Titanic

    FOREWORD

    A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR

    While attending a 2011 Women of Faith conference, I heard an announcement about a writing contest sponsored by Westbow Press. I felt a gentle nudge to enter and scribbled down the entry instructions, never thinking that I would actually follow through. However, in the months that followed, the gentle nudge became a strong prompting to write my grandfather’s Titanic story. That prompting persisted as the contest deadline approached, so I concluded that the only way to silence it would be to just write the story and send it in. When the contest winners were announced, I didn’t even make it to the list of finalists! Even so, I believed that this was a story that needed to be told and I recognized that the contest had given me the incentive to tell it. So, I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to publish it through Westbow Press.

    I would have never had the courage to do so had it not been for the wonderful people who gave this reluctant writer the motivation I needed just when I needed it. I’m extremely thankful for my first proofreaders Bob Broekemeier and Elise Pavelka, for my talented illustrator Hannah Segura, and for all the others who read the early drafts and gave feedback and encouragement. I’d also like to thank the staff at Westbow Press, whose professionalism, expertise, and guidance have made the process of publishing this story an absolute pleasure.

    I regret that my grandparents Leopold and Julia passed away before I was born, and that I never had the opportunity to meet them. All I know of them and their Titanic story is what I’ve been able to piece together from surviving family, historical records, and a few faded photographs from long ago. Building upon the framework of real events and facts, I’ve taken the liberty of using imagination to create supporting characters and scenes to fill in the blanks that history has left behind. I trust that my readers will understand this necessity, as well as my desire to pay tribute to my grandparents by sharing their story with the world. In doing so, I hope to keep their memory alive in the hearts of all who read it.

    Phyllis A. Titus

    DEDICATION

    To my grandparents

    Leopold and Julia Urbancic

    who taught me that there’s hope beyond the shipwreck

    CHAPTER 1

    THE PACKING

    S ometimes life just happens. We wake up one day and find that everything has changed. We search for answers, but logic fails, and the questions won’t stop. And neither will the tears. How in the world did we ever get to this place, and how did everything just fall apart? How did a dream become a nightmare? This isn’t what God intended, but He knew it was coming. He knew, and yet He allowed it to happen. He knew about the pain and the grief and the loss—the ripping, the tearing, and the brokenness that was to come. But He did not intervene. Why?

    I’d replayed this monologue in my mind countless times since my divorce. Like a scratched CD that repeats the same lines over and over, I couldn’t move on. I could never get past the question, Why, God? It just didn’t make sense. It’s worse than that; it’s maddening. I had no answer from Him. He seemed far away and silent. Was He even hearing the cries of my heart?

    On this particular morning, these questions burned even more intensely as I sank into the deep leather chair beside the window in the front room and waited. Pressing my warm coffee mug to my lips, I took in the picture: the cheery brick-trimmed walkway lined with purple tulips, curving toward the graduated stairs, which sloped toward the sidewalk and the mailbox, then to the sleepy, tree-lined street beyond.

    Image1OuttheWindow.jpg

    Those trees have grown so much over the years, I thought. I remembered when they were like little sticks held in place by stakes; now they were

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