This weekend is the anniversary of the sinking of the Andrea Doria as she approached Nantucket Light Ship on her way to New York. She collided with the Swedish American Line, MS Stockholm, on a foggy night July 25, 1956.
My father took this photo of Andrea Doria in Genoa just before we boarded to return to New York in mid-June 1956. The other photo was taken on board Andrea Doria as her sister ship SS Cristoforo Columbo, slightly larger, came into port as we departed. (I made them into polaroid transfers years later)
It turned out that ours was her last successful trip to New York. We watched on our black and white TV at the Cape the news footage of her listing in early dawn hours of July 26th and then slowly twisting and rolling down into the calm gray waters until she just disappeared midmorning with an empty lifeboat floating nearby, gently rocking by the spiral suction of her disappearance beneath the waves.
None of us could speak, not one word. Not my mother. Nor my 14 year old brother, nor me, 11 years old and usually a non-stop chatter box, I was stricken into silence.
My father quietly stood up and went out to the front yard and lowered our flag to half-mast. That spoke for all of us. We felt like a family member had died as well as the 50 passengers who died in the collision.
My parents had sailed on the French Liner NORMANDIE in 1939 and seen the newsreels of her on fire at her pier in NYC in 1942 as she was being outfitted for WWII. On a trip to NYC, he had seen that beautiful, luxurious ship he so loved still rolled over at her pier in NYC in the spring of 1943. So much water was used to try and control the fire that she simply rolled over and rested in the mud of the Hudson River. I suspect my father never got over that image nor the final moments of Andrea Doria.
On this 2020 anniversary of the sinking of the Andrea Doria, I remember, as I have for each year since 1956, the two Italian crew members who looked after us in our cabins on our 9-day voyage. To this day, I remember the fun and liveliness they brought to our days. They were a young married couple and knew how to help kids enjoy the ship and all its secret passageways. They both were what my aunt called, “Good Company”.
The news reports mentioned how wonderful the crew was in helping passengers get off the sinking ship into the lifeboats that could be accessed and to find the other lifeboats which came from ships, like the Îll-de-France, which responded to the distress call. She took over 780 Andrea Doria passengers back to New York. I am sure these same Andrea Doria crew members helped shaken children and their parents like we surely would have been, keep calm while finding their way to the upper decks from their cabins in hallways now pitched sharply by the listing ship and ultimately to safety.
I suspect those surviving families remembered them for the rest of their lives as well. The ship carried 1700 passengers and crew on that foggy night. I’m still unable to watch that black and white footage of her final moments which are on YouTube. Once was enough for this ol’girl. But, if you want to, it’s below.
