Picture this: a massive ocean liner, built to wow the world with luxury crossings between Southampton and New York, somehow powers through world wars, collisions, and economic crashes. That’s the story of RMS Olympic, the first of the famous trio from White Star Line sisters to the infamous Titanic and the short-lived Britannic.
Launched in 1910, she hit the waves in 1911 as the biggest ship afloat, packed with grand staircases, lavish dining rooms, and enough space for over 2,000 passengers chasing comfort over speed. Fans flocked to her maiden voyage, but early bumps set the tone for a bumpy ride ahead.
Early Scrapes and Titanic’s Shadow
Olympic had barely settled into service before trouble struck. Just months in, on her fifth trip, she sideswiped the British cruiser HMS Hawke in the Solent near the Isle of Wight. The liner’s sheer size created suction that yanked the warship right into her side, punching holes above and below the waterline.
Amazingly, Olympic limped back to port under her own steam, proving the Olympic-class design’s grit. There were no fatalities, though repairs sidelined her for weeks and forced parts-swapping with her under-construction sister, Titanic.
Then came April 1912. Olympic was steaming home when Titanic’s SOS crackled over the wireless. Captain Herbert Haddock cranked up the engines and raced toward the scene, but arrived too late. Carpathia had already plucked survivors from the icy North Atlantic.
Public faith in these giants shook, sparking crew strikes over dodgy lifeboats and demands for fixes. White Star pulled Olympic for a major overhaul: more lifeboats (up to 68), higher bulkheads, and a double hull in key spots. She emerged safer, but forever linked to her sister’s tragedy.
War Heroics Cement “Old Reliable”
World War I turned Olympic from a luxury hauler to a troop ferry beast. Requisitioned in 1915 as HMT Olympic, she shuttled over 120,000 soldiers across treacherous waters, dodging U-boats with speed and dazzle camouflage paint jobs in wild patterns. Her crowning moment? May 12, 1918, in the English Channel.
Spotting surfaced German sub U-103, gunners blazed away while she swung hard to ram. Her propeller shredded the sub’s hull; the enemy crew scuttled and bailed out.
Olympic Ship (Credit: CBS)
Only passenger liner to sink a U-boat, earning her “Old Reliable” nickname and a plaque from grateful Yanks. One close call: a dud torpedo from U-53 dented her hull unnoticed until postwar checks.
Post-armistice refits swapped coal for oil, boosting efficiency, and she resumed passenger runs in 1920. Celebrities like Charlie Chaplin and the Prince of Wales sailed her decks, drawn to the near-identical Titanic vibe.
But smaller clashes persisted, a 1924 sternpost snap with Fort St. George, rogue waves smashing portholes. Still, she clocked record passengers in the 1920s, teaming with seized German liners Majestic and Homeric.
Fog, Fatal Crash, and Quiet End
By the 1930s, Depression-era slumps and sleek new rivals like Bremen’s speed demons squeezed profits. Passenger counts halved; Olympic ran at losses. Then, her darkest mark: May 15, 1934, inbound to New York in thick fog off Nantucket.
Captain John Binks homed in on the lightship LV-117’s beacon but couldn’t veer fast enough. Olympic’s bow cleaved the tiny marker ship in 30 seconds flat. Four crew trapped below perished instantly; seven hit the water, three more died later, seven gone from 11.
Olympic launched boats amid the chaos, rescuing survivors despite her own bow dent. Blame fell on the liner for the deadly misjudgment.
That sealed it. With the Cunard-White Star merger funding Queen Mary and Elizabeth, Olympic made her last run on April 12, 1935. Sold for scrap at Inverkeithing, Scotland, breakers stripped her till 1939, fittings scattered to hotels and museums.
Over 24 years, 184,000 miles, she carried dreamers, troops, stars outliving sisters, sinking foes, surviving storms. Her panels and paneling live on in spots like England’s White Swan Hotel, quiet nods to a ship that just kept going. In an age of fragile icons, Olympic’s tale reminds us how endurance often trumps flash.
Back in 2002, the Smart house in Salt Lake City felt like any Mormon family’s dream : six kids, faith at the center, parents Ed and Lois holding it steady. Then, on June 5, a knife-wielding drifter named Brian Mitchell snatched 14-year-old Elizabeth from her bed while her little sister Mary Katherine hid terrified.
Lois spotted the sliced kitchen screen at dawn, shattered, flipping every light in a desperate hunt. Nine months of agony followed, with national pleas and false hopes, till Elizabeth walked free in Sandy, Utah, in March 2003. Lois and Ed channeled pain into a book, Bringing Elizabeth Home, sharing raw faith-fueled survival.
Nightmare Night Fuels Lifelong Fight
That predawn horror branded Lois forever. Mary Katherine’s whisper, “A man took her with a gun,” hit like thunder; Lois screamed at the proof through the window. They rallied thousands in searches and lobbied for AMBER Alerts and the Adam Walsh Act, turning grief into gridiron pushes.
Lois, ex-art specialist in Jordan District schools, stepped up as a voice for the broken. Post-rescue, family therapy knit them back, Elizabeth crediting parents’ love for her steel. Yet cracks simmered under faith and facade.
Church Split Shatters 34-Year Marriage
Fast-forward to 2019: Ed comes out as gay, quits the LDS church, and files for divorce after 33 years wed. Lois, a devout pillar, files too; the union ends amid headlines. Ed wrote publicly, “Lois, loyal wife, extraordinary mom… love eternal despite split.”
Elizabeth Smart (Credit: Netflix)
No mudslinging, just paths diverging. Elizabeth stayed close to both, calling Dad weekly, and Mom was key to processing trauma. Grandkids arrived: her three with hubby Matthew, Chloé, James, and Olivia, binding them loosely.
Lois skipped Netflix’s January 2026 Kidnapped: Elizabeth Smart, declining invites despite Ed’s heavy role. Elizabeth explained, “Mom helped process it all; now I’m ready to move past.”
Speaking Out on Her Own Terms
Today, Lois thrives as a speaker, charging $5K-$10K per gig on faith, parenting, and wellness. Profile lists her inspiring crowds, educating through scars. No big headlines, just steady work helping others sidestep family pitfalls or bounce from crisis.
She cheers Elizabeth’s foundation , self-defense classes, and survivor funds. At 60s-plus, grandma life mixes with platforms, faith intact, minus the marriage. Is Elizabeth’s 2025 parole beef over captor Wanda Barzee? Lois stays mum, letting her daughter lead.
Lois embodies the mom who stares down nightmares, rebuilds, and chooses silence on screens but noise in rooms that need it. Her story? Proof some folks grind quietly, impact loud. No victim tag, just forward motion, family ties holding despite bends.
