Prologe:

I do not wish to go. The whole country may be infatuated with 'Titanic" but I am infatuated with Maria. I have asked her to be my wife and she accepted. I am so happy that I want nothing more than her company. But pounds do not make themselves and the bandleader of "Titanic" I shall be.

April 15th, 1912.

Something like 2 am,

For my last act on this earth, I want my hands to stop shaking. Lord, if you let me play this last song, let me play it at my best. I am thinking of Maria. I am thinking that I am only 33 years old. I am hoping that we will be remembered.

Officers and sailors loading lifeboats, people rushing about madly. I can only do what I know how to do best: put my bow to the strings of my violin.

Only two hours ago, I was making waggish remark, so sure about the situation not being grave.. Four hours ago I exchanged pleasant words about the chill of the evening with Mr. Andrews. This evening I played for the First Class passengers as they dined.

And now I feel as if I blinked and then there was this chaos all around me. The deck has a dreadful tilt to it.

I have made sure my boys, nah, my MEN, wear their life jackets. I have one as well, though I think nothing of our chances. The boats are for the women and the children, and that is as it should be.

And they are mostly gone now anyway. I see frantic officers trying to free the last two boats. I hope they are filled with women and children, if there are any left here..

I must stand strong and try to ignore the fears I have. I will think of my band.

No general in the army could feel more pride than I feel now. I told them they could go, and they would not.

Maybe we are all too scared so we stay and do the only thing we know how: play. I do not know if anyone is still listening to us, why would they be even? Very soon perhaps, we shall not be able to stand, much less play music.

Yes, the deck has got a frightful tilt to it. There is very little time now.

How strange to feel so certain that this is my last song on earth.

Lord, let it be a good one. Let it mean something.

I am afraid. I know that I am doing right, standing aside but I am so afraid.

Maria. I love you, dear heart. Know that somehow. Love you now and forever.

Oh the life we would have had together! Beautiful children, I am sure of that.

I look at the men and see that they are scared too.

I try to say something important. If only I could make their faces less tense, but there is no reason for them to be such.

My voice sounds strange to me.

"Gentleman, I cannot tell you what a privilege it has been...Let us give one more and give our all."

I try to say something more, but the words do not come to me.

I raise my violin to my shoulder. I raise my bow, poised and ready over my strings. The band is ready to follow.

Let this mean something. Let this be the best we have ever played.