Last Saturday, the boyfriend and I went to the Titanic Exhibit at the Franklin Institute with friends. It’s been a few years since I’ve been there. Yes, we went through the heart. (I don’t think I’ve ever been there and not gone through the heart, and I’ve been there a LOT.) No, I don’t remember the lungs. (None of us did….were they there before?)
The coolest thing about the Titanic exhibit is that they hand you a “ticket” with a passenger’s name & history on it as you walk in. You don’t find out until the end of the exhibit if you survive. All four of us were in first class, so we were reasonably confident in our chances. I was Miss Jean Gertude Hippach, 16 years old and travelling with my mother. The boyfriend was Dr. Henry William Frauenthal, aged 49, travelling with his wife of two weeks and his brother. There were many jokes as we wandered though the poorly laid out exhibit about whether or not his new bride knew that he was cattin’ around with a teenager….and we all survived, so he may actually have to tell her.
Unfortunately, having survived the Titanic is no guarantee of surviving what came next. I spent most of Easter weekend curled up in a ball on the couch with what I’m pretty sure might have been a minor case of the plague. Slowly but surely, though, I believe that I am on the mend. I’m just hoping that my Easter basket is still waiting for me.