Titanic Survivor A. L. Salomon Tells the Story of His Experiences In Connection With the Disaster

He Exposes a Fakir.

A. L. Salomon, the well-known wholesale stationer of 345 Broadway, New York, one of the survivors of the Titanic disaster, received many of his friends at his place of business on Saturday of last week. Mr. Salomon did not look any the worse for his recent experience, and this fact being commented on by his friends, led him to confess that his experience after the big ship ran into the iceberg was decidedly tame, and serves to contradict a lot of sensational stories that have been printed in regard to the alleged awful rush to get into the lifeboats. In speaking to his friends Mr. Salomon said:

All Had Confidence in the Titanic

"The impressive feature of the disaster was the sublime confidence that everybody aboard had in the safety of the Titanic. As for any fear that it would sink, I don't suppose that entered anybody's head till shortly before the boat went down. That absolute confidence which we all shared, together with the lack of lifeboats, accounts for the terrible loss of life."

Went Back to Bed After Accident

"When the boat struck the iceberg I was asleep. The jar woke me up, and after a while, just out of curiosity, I dressed and went on deck. There was no excitement; everyone whom I met was just as calm and pleasant as could be. So having satisfied myself that everything was all right, I went back to bed and fell asleep."

"Some time later the steward knocked on my door and said, 'Get up, get into your life preserver.'"

"'What for?' I asked."

"'Captain's orders,' said he."

"Well, without hurrying, I dressed. The steward helped me adjust the life preserver. I also put on an overcoat and again went on deck. There I found a good-natured crowd, all simply curious to know just what had happened. There was not a bit of excitement. We all chatted pleasantly and took the incident as a little diversion."

"After a time I felt my eyes sort of burn, so I concluded I'd go to my stateroom and get my glasses. I did so, putting on nose pinchers with a cord attached. Then I went back on deck again. The night was clear and beautiful; the stars were really working overtime. There was no moon. The sea was as calm and smooth as it possibly could be."

"After walking about and chatting with many of the other passengers the idea somehow got into my head that we might have to be transferred to the Olympic, with which, we had been informed, we were in wireless communication. With this vague possibility in mind it occurred to me that if we have to be transferred to the Olympic I would have to get in and out of boats, in doing so I might have my glasses knocked off. With this vague possibility I thought I would again go to my stateroom and put on a pair of spectacles. On the way down I met groups of passengers, all of whom showed no haste. With one group I stopped for a while and jollied with them, cracking a few jokes myself."

"When I opened my stateroom door the water was rushing in, although the stateroom was twenty feet above the water level. Then I realized that there was some danger, but no immediate necessity for haste. One my way back to the deck I saw one of the group of passengers referred to. I told them they had better get on deck, but they pooh-poohed the suggestion. Just as I got to the head of the stairs a boat was just being lowered. Some of the people in it cried to me, 'Hurry up, we've been waiting for you; jump!'"

"The boat at the time I jumped was at least three feet below the deck. I did not see anybody else anywhere near that wanted to get into the boat. When I landed in the boat I found that I was in the captain's dinghy."

"We rowed about until the Carpathia took us on board. The only thing we suffered from was the cold; it was fearfully cold. I get a chill every time I think of it."

"While in the boat I saw the Titanic go down. It settled very gradually, bow first. After a time the stern came out of the water, and as it raised further in the air there was an explosion which seemed to bend the Titanic in the center. Then the stern raised further up in the water, and then the whole boat glided down into the ocean."

Mr. Salomon Exposes a Fakir

The interviews printed below appeared in the New York World of Wednesday of this week. They are reprinted here as the trade will be interested to see how convincingly Mr. Salomon nails a lie that has been spread broadcast in all the papers by an untruthful sailor. The World's story follows:

The "money-boat," in which five passengers got away from the Titanic when sixty-five might have done so, according to tales reiterated by members of the lost liner's crew, was identified yesterday as the captain's dinghy and not as a lifeboat at all.

The "American millionaire," who, according to these same tales, persuaded the crew of the boat by promises of lavish rewards to "put right away" from the Titanic, was identified as Sir Cosmo Duff Gordon, husband of Lucille, the dressmaker. The other passengers, besides these two, in the dinghy, were A. L. Salomon, a wholesale stationer, of No. 345 Broadway; C. E. Stengel, a leather manufacturer, of No. 1075 Broad street, Newark, N. J., and Miss Francatelli, of London.

Robert Hopkins, an able seaman on the Titanic, revived the story yesterday when he appealed for aid at the Mayor's office, City Hall. He did not pretend to have been aboard the dinghy, which he called "Boat No. 2," but he declared that he could not be mistaken about the offers of handsome payment if no time was lost in leaving the Titanic.

"It was a millionaire whose name I don't know," Hopkins said, "who made the offer. The crew did as he asked, and after the Carpathia was reached he gave each man a check for £5 on Couts's Bank, London. If these checks were looked up they would give the man's name, but the only names of those in the boat that I am sure of are Sir Cosmo Gordon and Lady Gordon."

Mr. Salomon Nails a Lie

"The rascal!" Mr. Salomon said, when Hopkins's story was repeated to him. "But let me tell you what happened, before I tell you what I think of the story."

"I didn't look at my watch when we got into the dinghy and put off, but I had looked not long before and it must have been about 1 o'clock. I believe that ours was the last boat to leave; at any rate I saw none following us. We followed the track of another boat, on which green lights were being burned, and got to the Carpathia without particular incident."

"Besides the five of us passengers there were seven sailors in our boat – a lookout, four oarsmen, a steersman and one extra man for whom there was no particular work. He just came along. His place might have been taken by another passenger, but it would have not been possible for another soul to accompany us."

"The dinghy was loaded to the gunwales with the twelve there were in it – the boat was intended to carry not more than nine, as a matter of fact. It wasn't a lifeboat at all, but a rowboat."

"There was no such excitement on the part of any of us as this preposterous story of rewards would have to have for a basis. There was nothing in our experience to make us fearful of further accident. None of us had had any trouble in getting away from the Titanic, and we were almost gay as we rowed away to the Carpathia. Sir Cosmo was in especially good spirits."

"I am strongly tempted to call this man Hopkins a liar, as I have been tempted to call the others who have told this story. The tale has been so plainly intended for 'revenue only' that I wish a warning could be given to everyone not to believe the stories that will be told from now on. Every worthy victim of the disaster will be taken care of in ways that make such appeals for assistance as this unnecessary; the others do not deserve assistance."

Taking Credit from Another

"These stories began with our arrival on the Carpathia. Within an hour after I reached her a steward came to me and told me my friends were all safe. I thanked him for the word and started to hunt them up. I couldn't find them, and asked the steward if he was sure. He said he had seen them, and added:"

"'You know, sir, I've been very calm all through this; I've been shipwrecked three times before. Why, the minute we struck I put three oranges in my pockets, got a bunch of green signal lights and was ready to put off.'"

"'Are you the man that carried those lights?' I said. 'We owe you more than any other man, and I mean to see that you're paid.'"

"I set out then to tell this steward's story, and I must have seen fifty people who had reason to bless him and his lights when I happened to tell Mrs. Jacques Futrelle about him. She looked at me kind o' funny and said she would like to see him. Together we hunted him up, and she asked him if it was he that had burned the lights."

"'They were burned in the boat I was in,' she said, 'and I had been very sure that it was done by the officer in charge of that boat.'"

"The fellow turned scarlet and said:"

"'Well, it was the boat I was on.'"

"See what I mean? This steward was taking another man's credit to himself for his own advantage – telling another man's story for his own profit. I'm not blaming him, but I do think that we ought to be mighty careful about what we accept as truth."

"I have one more reason for feeling this way. Within an hour after the Titanic's lifeboats had been stowed aboard the Carpathia every name plate had been taken off them. There were offered for sale at $5 each, and every one of them was sold. That doesn't seem to me a very commendable proceeding from either side, but I may be wrong."