Bound for this city from England to make their home here with their brother, Edgar and Fred Giles went down to their death on the Titanic.
Almost crazed through the disaster, the brother, William Henry Giles, of 435 Pine street, is momentarily expecting a cablegram from Porthleven, Cornwall, Eng., announcing the death of his father, William, who has been in very poor health for a long time.
I am very much afraid for father and mother, said Mr. Giles, to-day, as he sat with bowed head in the parlor of the home of Mr. and Mrs. John J. Luce, with whom he boards. There were eight boys of us and when things got dull in our home town my brother Richard and I came to this city. Richard had been here four years and when mother wrote that father was very poorly he decided to go home and see the old folks.
He sailed from New York on March 23, on the Olympic. As things were not looking very well at home it was decided that Edgar and Fred should come to this city to my home and make a new start.
Edgar was twenty and Fred twenty-two and on Monday I received a letter stating that they had booked second-class passage on the Titanic and that they were due to arrive in New York on Wednesday of this week. In the letter they asked that I meet them when the boat landed.
I made the necessary arrangements and thought no more of it until I returned from my position at the American Dredging Company that night and picked up the evening paper only to read that the Titanic had rammed an iceberg. The paper stated that all were saved and yet I had a strange feeling that all was not well.
The papers next day confirmed my suspicions and what I endured until the passenger list of those saved was printed and then confirmed later no man will ever know. On Wednesday of this week came a letter penned by my dear mother Mary. Imagine my feelings when I opened it and read that Edgar and Fred. had left home to take the steamer and that she hoped and prayed that ere her letter reached me the two boys would be safe and sound in my home.
That they went down to their death is a certainty, but out of all the gloom there is a consolation that they died like brave men. I have done everything in my power to get some cheering information. I hoped against hope, but when the Carpathia docked without them on Thursday night all hope fled.
Even now I see their smiling faces when they were little fellows at home in Porthleven and although that makes the loss seem all the harder to bear, I can only hope that the terrible blow will not take my dear father and mother from me."