Dear Jack,
It has been two weeks since the Titanic sank, and I have so much to relay. When we, the survivors, reached New York, I stayed in third class. I told them my surname was Dawson. Cal came looking for me, but thankfully never found me. Once I made it through inspection I went to city hall. I told them I had married on Titanic, but the papers had been lost when the ship sank. They asked where my husband was, and I told them I didn't know. I suppose that's true. They say they will declare me a widow next month. I love you so much Jack, and I wish beyond all else you could be here.
Forever Yours,
Rose
Dear Jack,
You are going to be a father. I have felt ill for a week now, and a lady at my work (I found a job as a lady's maid) insisted I see a physician. How could such a tiny being have survived those hours in the cold when you could not? How will I be a mother, for I cannot give this child up? I dearly want a girl, a boy would remind me too much of you, but I'll take any child, of course. I wish you could see the life grow in me, but that can never happen.
Forever Yours,
Rose
Dear Jack,
I lost my job today. I have just begun to show that I am with child. My employers said there is no use for a maid in a delicate situation. They wouldn't even give me references. Now I am living off of the few wages I have. There is a trial against the White Star Line, and every survivor is to get reparations. However, they can't do anything until Mr. Ismay is found and testifies. When I receive that money, for I know I shall, I will move to California. Once our child is born I'll go on that rollercoaster and ride a horse like a man. I'll do every thing we had planned; I'll become my own woman.
Forever Yours,
Rose