Titanic Survivor Louise Pope

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Photo courtesy Larry Widen

Souvenir postcard of the Kink family

Souvenir postcard of the Kink family

In April 1912, the most luxurious ocean liner ever built crashed into an iceberg in the north Atlantic and sunk with more than 1,500 people still on board. 110 years later, the sinking of the Titanic is still considered the most tragic sea disaster in history. 

It was nearly midnight when a series of bone-jarring vibrations woke Louise Kink from a sound sleep. Her four-year-old daughter, also named Louise, rested comfortably in her mother’s arms. Seconds later, the awful sounds of metal being crushed filled her with a fear unlike any she had ever known. The Kinks were traveling in steerage class at bottom of the ship to save what little money that had. Someone was pounding on the dormitory door, and when Louise opened it, her husband, Anton, and his brother, Vincent, pushed their way into the room. “The ship’s been damaged”, Anton shouted. “Get some warm clothes. We need to go to the next deck”. Vincent’s wife, Maria, helped the other women gather their belongings as the men ran back into the narrow hallway. 

High above them the first-class passengers were dancing, drinking, and socializing. Minutes later, loud, crashing noises alerted crewmen, who found two tons of shattered ice spread across the deck. A duty officer quieted them with a wave of his hand. “The ship grazed an iceberg in the dark,” he said in a hushed tone.  “There’s nothing to worry about. We’re already past it”.  

Bruce Ismay, a White Star Line executive, and the Titanic’s builder, Thomas Andrews walked casually into a nearby library with several other men and closed the door. Once inside, Andrews frantically unrolled a set of blueprints and pointed to the starboard side of the ship. “There’s nearly 300 feet of buckled hull plates”, he said.  “All five of the watertight compartments are taking on water and it’s no longer possible to stabilize the ship”. Andrews looked at the faces of the men around the table and said, “The Titanic will be gone within the hour.”

Icy Water Rising

At the bottom of the ship, the Kinks wrapped Louise in a gray flannel blanket and put tiny high-top shoes on her feet for warmth. Peoples’ lips were blue, and their teeth chattered as the temperature continued to fall. As the icy water rose above the Kinks’ ankles, Anton and Vincent pushed the women up flight after flight of stairs. 

On the upper deck, lifeboats were being lowered. Captain Edward Smith ordered that women and children be boarded first. When dozens of men with coats over their heads jumped in ahead of them, Smith armed sailors with revolvers to prevent more selfish men from sneaking aboard the boats. As Louise and her child were put in the second-to-last lifeboat, Anton and Vincent overpowered a sailor and Anton leapt into the boat. He saw his brother and Maria pulled back into the crowd. 

The London-bound liner Carpathia, responding to the urgent messages transmitted from the Titanic’s radio shack, turned around and sped to the location of the lifeboats. Long rope ladders were lowered to bring the survivors aboard. “I put Lou in a bag so the sailors could bring her up,” Louise Kink later told reporters.  “Workers from the kitchen brought us food, coffee, and blankets”. Heavy thunderstorms and dense fog delayed the trip to New York City, but Carpathia finally docked at the White Star Line pier.

Story Worth Money

When the Kinks stepped off the train in Milwaukee, a crowd of well-wishers and a dozen newspapermen were there to greet them. A heavy-set man in a brown suit and derby pushed his way to the front and grabbed Anton by the arm. “My name’s Krauss. I work for a couple of the vaudeville houses,” the man said. “You know, the girlie shows.” Anton didn’t speak English, and Krauss switched to German. “You tell your story of the Titanic and people will pay to hear it”, Krauss said. “We’ll both make a lot of money.” 

But before Krauss could get the Kinks on stage, the Empress theater in Milwaukee and the Unique theater in Wauwatosa showed short film clips and still photographs related to the disaster. A narrator and pianist accompanied each presentation.

The Kinks’ energetic agent booked them at the Crystal theater on Second Street near Wells. With Krauss translating Anton’s halting delivery, the shows were a hit, and little Louise got a big round of applause at every performance. One week’s booking at the Crystal became two, and then three. Afterwards, the Kinks went on the road and performed in LaCrosse, Madison, Green Bay, and Kenosha before ticket sales fell off. 

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Photo courtesy Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

Louise Pope showing her shoes and blanket from the Titanic disaster

Louise Pope showing her shoes and blanket from the Titanic disaster

“My mother refused to talk about the disaster,” Louise Kink said in 1932. “She had nightmares and thought she saw people floundering in the freezing waters.” At age 24, Louise married Harold Pope and the couple had four children. They divorced and Louise moved from Wauwatosa to a 40-acre farm near Menomonee Falls.

“Lou was a very humble person. She never mentioned the Titanic,” said a friend who met her three decades later. “We worked side by side at a garden center for years and I had no idea who she was.” A manager told her Louise traveled across the country attending conventions, meeting other survivors, and speaking to school groups. “Now that I knew, Lou told me everything she remembered from that night,” her friend said. “She even let me hold the blanket and shoes.”

In 1985 Louise testified in front of a congressional committee in Washington D.C. “When the ship’s location is made public, education and learning should be the focus”, she said. “I wouldn’t care to see it used only for commercial purposes.”

Louise’s mother lived until 1979, passing away at age 93. Louise Kink Pope was 84 when she died in 1992. Both are buried in Lannon’s Sunnyside Cemetery.