J
Jim Kalafus
Member
Here are profiles of one of the more appealing couples on board; Abraham and Harriet Cohen, of Hartford CT.
Harriet, who turned 21 on September 9,1934, was the daughter of Austrian immigrants who had done well for themselves in the grocery business. She was the saluditorian of her high school class; graduated from college; was active in Jewish community groups and worked in the finance department at the G. Fox department store.
Abraham Cohen, 31, was the son of a second generation Jewish family, which owned department stores in Hartford. He was well remembered, locally, as a high school sports hero, and had graduated from Dartmouth.
Their accounts of swimming six miles to shore, on Harriet's birthday, are among the more endearing generated by the disaster.
The story has a bittersweet ending. Abraham, the star athlete, had a heart condition of which he was not aware. His exertions on September 8, 1934, apparently induced a heart attack soon after. According to an article which appeared after his death, he never really recovered and was "not the same" afterward.
He died in the late 1940s or early 1950s of another heart attack. Harriet never remarried; raised their children; returned to work in banking, and was involved with many charities. She died in late 2002.
_________________________________________________-
Mr. Abraham Cohen. 31. Cabin 215. 11 Keney Terrace, Hartford, CT. Mr. and Mrs. Cohen had married on August 28, 1934; the Morro Castle cruise was their honeymoon. They survived the six mile swim to shore, and gave several excellent accounts:
“ I went out into the Purser’s Lobby. There were members of the crew in the four corners of it squirting water against the ceiling. There didn’t seem to be much pressure, but if there had been all the pressure in the world it would not have made any difference. I spoke to one of them and he swore.
Then we went toward the stern of the ship. The corridor was full of people all moving toward the stern. It wasn’t crowded and the fire seemed all above us, on the upper decks. No one jostled or hurried.
We went back to the open part of B Deck. We couldn’t move around. Someone began to sing “Hail Hail the Gang’s All Here” and someone else said they ought to say their prayers. Some woman said, ‘Yes, that’s right. Prayers.’ There were two members of the crew huddled with the rest. They were sobbing, with tears streaming down their faces.
Everyone was excited, but some big stocky fellow seemed to have them well under control. Then the lights went out. The big fellow said it was all right, that the ship was steel and guaranteed not to sink, that people would get to us right away. A little while later the fire began to increase. The smoke began to pour back. People were choking and the women began to scream again. I wet the shoulders of my wife’s gown and buried my face in it.
People were crying out that we would suffocate. It couldn’t last long. Some of the passengers tried to go up to A Deck but were apparently warned not to. People on the inboard edge of the crowd around us were pushing and screaming for those near the rail to jump. They were afraid to, and we who were quite far from the rail were suffocating. I took my wife’s shoulders and pushed her through the crowd until we reached the rail. All we wanted was to get to the water. We both had life belts on. Anything was better than this.
I put my arm around Harriet after we climbed over the rail. We said ‘Let’s go’ and jumped. I hit the water flat on my back and it knocked the wind out of me. Harriet hit feet first. When we recovered from the shock, Harriet said ‘The water’s fine!’
There was some sort of light like a tin can with a flare on it that was floating in the water. Some of the people called out to stay near the light. Then a funny thing happened. The lifebelt my wife had tied on me was a little loose and we called out to some people who seemed good natured and went over to them. I turned around and one of them fixed it.
It was a long time, and it wasn’t pleasant. We swallowed water. I was sick. We began to get cold. It must have been 9 O’clock when we first saw the houses at Point Pleasant. We said ‘Take it easy’ and talked about a lot of things. We talked abiout the people back at home, and how important it was for us to return to them..."
Mrs. Harriet Bachrach Cohen. 21. Cabin 215. 11 Keney Terrace, Hartford CT:
"I heard screaming outside our cabin. I rushed to the door, opened it- flames filled the hallway. My husband awakened and we put on our bathrobes. We went out through the flames and finally made our way to B Deck.
The decks were filled with people- everyone seemed excited. The smoke hung low and the fumes almost suffocated us.
People were milling and jammed close together. There didn’t seem to be anyone who could keep the people quiet.
My husband and I made our way to the railing and decided the best thing to do was to jump. We did. I guess we were scared, but there wasn’t time to think about it.
Once in the water our first thought was to get away from the boat. There were other struggling around us in the water, but after we got started and swam a while we didn’t see any more. We saw no lifeboats around us. We saw the lights on the shore.
We struck out for shore. The water was warm. The waves seemed to help us along towards shore. Best of all, we kept side by side all the way. We’d help one another keep afloat now and then, one of us taking it easy for a while.
Sometimes we thought we were getting nearer shore, then we didn’t know. Then we knew we were getting nearer and soon saw a tremendous crowd on the beach. When the waves lifted us on their crests, we waved. Then we were able to see that the people were waving back to us. There were no other swimmers near us. We couldn’t understand why they didn’t come out to get us. The surf must have been too high.
The last quarter mile was the worst of the six hours. There was a bathing beach there and some sort of wooden things holding up a barrier. It was about 100 yards from shore. My husband and I were thrown against it. Still no one came out. We were tangled in the ropes. My husband was thrown clear after swinging around them and then someone swam out and got him. Then they got me. He was pretty sick and the men, big ones, I don’t know who they were, were almost tired out with taking us in.
Sep 9,1912 - Nov 25, 2002
_______________________________________________
Harriet, who turned 21 on September 9,1934, was the daughter of Austrian immigrants who had done well for themselves in the grocery business. She was the saluditorian of her high school class; graduated from college; was active in Jewish community groups and worked in the finance department at the G. Fox department store.
Abraham Cohen, 31, was the son of a second generation Jewish family, which owned department stores in Hartford. He was well remembered, locally, as a high school sports hero, and had graduated from Dartmouth.
Their accounts of swimming six miles to shore, on Harriet's birthday, are among the more endearing generated by the disaster.
The story has a bittersweet ending. Abraham, the star athlete, had a heart condition of which he was not aware. His exertions on September 8, 1934, apparently induced a heart attack soon after. According to an article which appeared after his death, he never really recovered and was "not the same" afterward.
He died in the late 1940s or early 1950s of another heart attack. Harriet never remarried; raised their children; returned to work in banking, and was involved with many charities. She died in late 2002.
_________________________________________________-
Mr. Abraham Cohen. 31. Cabin 215. 11 Keney Terrace, Hartford, CT. Mr. and Mrs. Cohen had married on August 28, 1934; the Morro Castle cruise was their honeymoon. They survived the six mile swim to shore, and gave several excellent accounts:
“ I went out into the Purser’s Lobby. There were members of the crew in the four corners of it squirting water against the ceiling. There didn’t seem to be much pressure, but if there had been all the pressure in the world it would not have made any difference. I spoke to one of them and he swore.
Then we went toward the stern of the ship. The corridor was full of people all moving toward the stern. It wasn’t crowded and the fire seemed all above us, on the upper decks. No one jostled or hurried.
We went back to the open part of B Deck. We couldn’t move around. Someone began to sing “Hail Hail the Gang’s All Here” and someone else said they ought to say their prayers. Some woman said, ‘Yes, that’s right. Prayers.’ There were two members of the crew huddled with the rest. They were sobbing, with tears streaming down their faces.
Everyone was excited, but some big stocky fellow seemed to have them well under control. Then the lights went out. The big fellow said it was all right, that the ship was steel and guaranteed not to sink, that people would get to us right away. A little while later the fire began to increase. The smoke began to pour back. People were choking and the women began to scream again. I wet the shoulders of my wife’s gown and buried my face in it.
People were crying out that we would suffocate. It couldn’t last long. Some of the passengers tried to go up to A Deck but were apparently warned not to. People on the inboard edge of the crowd around us were pushing and screaming for those near the rail to jump. They were afraid to, and we who were quite far from the rail were suffocating. I took my wife’s shoulders and pushed her through the crowd until we reached the rail. All we wanted was to get to the water. We both had life belts on. Anything was better than this.
I put my arm around Harriet after we climbed over the rail. We said ‘Let’s go’ and jumped. I hit the water flat on my back and it knocked the wind out of me. Harriet hit feet first. When we recovered from the shock, Harriet said ‘The water’s fine!’
There was some sort of light like a tin can with a flare on it that was floating in the water. Some of the people called out to stay near the light. Then a funny thing happened. The lifebelt my wife had tied on me was a little loose and we called out to some people who seemed good natured and went over to them. I turned around and one of them fixed it.
It was a long time, and it wasn’t pleasant. We swallowed water. I was sick. We began to get cold. It must have been 9 O’clock when we first saw the houses at Point Pleasant. We said ‘Take it easy’ and talked about a lot of things. We talked abiout the people back at home, and how important it was for us to return to them..."
Mrs. Harriet Bachrach Cohen. 21. Cabin 215. 11 Keney Terrace, Hartford CT:
"I heard screaming outside our cabin. I rushed to the door, opened it- flames filled the hallway. My husband awakened and we put on our bathrobes. We went out through the flames and finally made our way to B Deck.
The decks were filled with people- everyone seemed excited. The smoke hung low and the fumes almost suffocated us.
People were milling and jammed close together. There didn’t seem to be anyone who could keep the people quiet.
My husband and I made our way to the railing and decided the best thing to do was to jump. We did. I guess we were scared, but there wasn’t time to think about it.
Once in the water our first thought was to get away from the boat. There were other struggling around us in the water, but after we got started and swam a while we didn’t see any more. We saw no lifeboats around us. We saw the lights on the shore.
We struck out for shore. The water was warm. The waves seemed to help us along towards shore. Best of all, we kept side by side all the way. We’d help one another keep afloat now and then, one of us taking it easy for a while.
Sometimes we thought we were getting nearer shore, then we didn’t know. Then we knew we were getting nearer and soon saw a tremendous crowd on the beach. When the waves lifted us on their crests, we waved. Then we were able to see that the people were waving back to us. There were no other swimmers near us. We couldn’t understand why they didn’t come out to get us. The surf must have been too high.
The last quarter mile was the worst of the six hours. There was a bathing beach there and some sort of wooden things holding up a barrier. It was about 100 yards from shore. My husband and I were thrown against it. Still no one came out. We were tangled in the ropes. My husband was thrown clear after swinging around them and then someone swam out and got him. Then they got me. He was pretty sick and the men, big ones, I don’t know who they were, were almost tired out with taking us in.
Sep 9,1912 - Nov 25, 2002
_______________________________________________
