The story, which Williams describes more fully in her book A Rare Titanic Family: The Caldwells' Story of Survival, details those seemingly insignificant moments that can literally mean the difference between life and death.
Albert and Sylvia were married in 1909 and almost immediately left for Bangkok, Thailand where they would serve as a missionary/teacher family in a Presbyterian-run school. In Bangkok, however, Sylvia became ill after Alden was born, and the family cashed in all their Thai savings into gold coin and prepared to return to the United States.
After a harrowing 1-month voyage through the Indian Ocean, the couple finally arrived in Naples, Italy. In the port of that city they found a ship, the Carpathia, which was preparing to sail to the U.S. However, the ship was approximately the same size as the one they had sailed the Indian Ocean on and Sylvia, who had suffered extreme sea sickness on that entire voyage, did not want to cross the Atlantic on a similar-sized ship.
While in Naples, Albert ran across an advertisement for the maiden voyage of the Titanic, which would be sailing from London. "There. That's the ship we're going on," Albert told his wife. He hurried to buy tickets for 2nd class passage on the ship, only to find out that all tickets had been sold. However, the agent said he should come back later to see if there had been any cancellations. Returning the next day, Albert was able to purchase the tickets for 2nd-class passage.
So, after buying new wardrobes for the family in Paris, the Caldwells headed to London to board the Titanic for the last leg of their voyage home. But even at boarding time, Sylvia was still skeptical of sailing. As she prepared to head on board, Sylvia asked a crewman, "Is it really unsinklable?" The crewman uttered a famous response which has appeared in numerous books and films about the ship: "God, Himself, could not sink this ship."
On board, the Caldwells reveled in the magnificent luxury of the Titanic. They road the elevators. They ate the sumptuous meals. They enjoyed the daily musical performances. Albert documented the experience with his camera. He really wanted to see the operation of the ship's enormous engine room. He convinced an officer to escort him to the bottom of the ship. There he snapped pictures of the stokers as they stuffed mounds of coal into the engines. He had an idea. He asked one of the stokers to trade places with him. He would stuff coal and the stoker would take his picture. Laughing, the stoker agreed. The picture was taken; a picture which literally came to save the life of Albert and his family.
That night, it was unusually cold on the Atlantic. Albert and his family went to bed early to keep warm. Albert had found that one of the best byproducts of the ship was that the engines kept the bed vibrating, an action which provided him with a restful sleep. However, in the middle of the night, Albert awoke and realized the bed was no longer vibrating. This meant the engines had stopped. He left the cabin and went up on deck. There, an officer told him: "We've hit an iceberg. It's nothing. Don't worry. Go back to bed."
However, a short time later, came a knock on the door and a summons for all passengers to appear on the top deck. The Caldwells got dressed, but were unable to find the key for young Alden's trunk. They wrapped the infant in a blanket and proceeded to the main deck.
Once there, they found a calm scene. Even when an order came for women and children to take to the lifeboats, most, including the Caldwells, appeared unconcerned. The ship was unsinkable. What could there be to worry about.
As the Caldwells stood, trying to decide what to do, some of the stokers noticed the man who had earlier been taking their picture. "Mr. Caldwell, if you value your life, get off this ship," one said.
The Caldwells immediately boarded Lifeboat 13. Albert, who had been carrying Alden, was allowed on board. The lifeboat, pitching forward and back, began its jerky descent toward the Atlantic. The passengers and crew were forced to hang on. When the boat finally settled in the ocean, the lever designed to allow the lifeboat to leave the Titanic wouldn't work. Apparently, the red paint used for the ship had gummed up the catch. The situation became dire. Lifeboat 15 had begun its descent and would crash directly on top of Lifeboat 13. The crew and passengers began shouting frantically, but the roar of the evacuation made it impossible to be heard. Finally, just seconds before impact, some of the crew were able to beat on the bottom of the approaching lifeboat and got it stopped. Crewmen with knives cut away the ropes and launched Lifeboat 13.
With both crew and male passengers rowing, the boat was able to get a 1/2 mile from the sinking ship. Then, the night's true horror began. The passengers watched in fright and shock as the lights on the giant vessel winked out. It rose from the ocean, split in two, and, with a gentle final swish, was gone.
"Then," Sylvia was later to write, "We heard the most appalling, heart-rending noise that ever a mortal might hear - the cry of hundreds of human souls for help."
In a strange twist of fate, the very iceberg that had sunk the Titanic provided safety for the lifeboats. It blocked the waves that could have swamped them. But in a darkened Atlantic, the survivors began to first fear that they would never be discovered. Finally, lights of an approaching ship were spotted. Then a new fear emerged. The lifeboat had no lights. The approaching ship, unable to see the boat, would run it down. One woman had saved a diary she was writing and the crew set indiviual pages on fire to serve as a beacon.
The passengers of Lifeboat 13 were rescued. Ironically, the rescuing ships was the Carpathia, the very same vessel the Caldwells had rejected in Naples for their voyage home.
Arriving in the United States, the Caldwells continued their lives. Eventually, Albert and Sylvia got a divorce. Albert, who died in 1977 at the age of 91, spent most of life, speaking to individuals and groups about that night of tragedy and survival.
One of his most avid listeners was his young grand-niece Julie. In all his retellings to her he would joke," Honey,when they find the Titanic you can have those gold coins." He also reflected on his lost camera at the bottom of the sea."If they'd only find my camera, what a story it could tell."
But although all of the photos Albert shot were lost, one family photo taken on board the ship survived. It was taken by an Irish newsman in London at the time of the sailing and later sent to the Caldwells. That shot appears as the cover of Williams' book.
Tales, Tidbits, and Tips
Williams says her great-uncle never experienced survivor guilt. "My sister says Uncle Albert believed he had a second chance at life at 26 and he took it," she says. "He believed it was a public service to talk about the experience." However, Albert always skipped the part where he and the others were floating in the Atlantic awaiting rescue, continually haunted by the sounds of the dying. "You just have to forget the screams or you would go crazy," Williams said her great-uncle told her.
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