Recently I watched a video about shipwreck recoveries and it mentioned that some sheet music was salvaged from the Titanic wreckage. The documentary speculated it was played during the ship’s journey.

Something like this humanizes the people aboard the ship far more than the tragedy of the ship sinking, at least for me. I suppose because I can’t imagine standing on the deck of a sinking ship in my evening finery, knowing my death is imminent and singing Nearer my God to Thee. It’s an eerily beautiful scene but not a relatable one.

But these songs give you a different picture of the people aboard. Listening to (or singing) silly songs is much more relatable.

Truth be told, I prefer the more romantic and tragic story of the Titanic, but the people in that version don’t seem real to me. Listening to ordinary music they liked brings them closer. It makes the contrast between their everyday lives and the horror of their last moments that much more jarring.

Do you remember the tragedy last summer with the little submersible that imploded on its way down to visit the wreck site? There were five people aboard, including an Indian billionaire who was obsessed with the Titanic. He must have been, to pay half a million dollars for seats for himself and his son on a rickety submersible.

I can understand wanting to get close enough to see the ruins of this magnificent and legendary shipwreck for myself. But thinking practically, what did he expect to find at the bottom of the ocean? Much of the ship has worn away over time. The wreck has been picked over already. And the visibility is nothing like the glossy documentaries where everything is easy to see. The ocean floor is very dark, and the submersible had only a tiny portal through which he could have squinted at the murky water.

If he only knew how to do it, he could have come much closer to the lost passengers—perhaps even momentarily lifted the veil that separates them from us—using what we know of their lives and experiencing the world as they once did.