Joseph Levinson was born in Montreal, Quebec, Canada, on the 8th August 1879, the son of Solomon and Rachel Levinson (née Klishinsky). His parents were Russian immigrants, and in 1874, his father established a clothing firm in Montreal - S. Levinson and Company. The family were very active and prominent in the local Jewish community.
On completing his education, Joseph entered his father’s business, which was now renamed S. Levinson, Son and Company. Joseph became known as Joseph Jnr. As his father’s brother, Joseph, was also involved in the company and was referred to as Joseph Snr. The company was situated at 331 Notre Dame Street West, Montreal, and Joseph’s residence was at 107. Drummond Street, Montreal.
Joseph Levinson travelled to Europe frequently on behalf of the company, and in the spring of 1915 found it necessary to travel to England. As a consequence, he booked saloon passage on the Lusitania, sailing from New York just after mid-day on 1st May 1915. Before he joined the liner, with ticket number 46163, he stayed at The Knickerbocker Hotel, and once on board, he was allocated room B42, which was the personal responsibility of First Class Bedroom Steward James Grant, who came from Liverpool.
He survived the sinking just six days later and having managed to get into one of the liner’s collapsible boats; he was rescued from the sea by the Royal Naval trawler H.M.S. Brock and landed at Queenstown. There, he did his best to make a list of survivors which he then cabled to Canada, the United States and Britain. Having been interviewed in the town, his experiences were published in The Cork Examiner which stated: -
Mr. J. Levinson jun., Queen's Hotel, Leeds (sic.), to whom we are indebted for a list of survivors, which he thoroughly made, and which he cabled both to the U.S.A. and Canada, and England, said the whole thing was so sudden that the loss of life was appalling. In his opinion, there was scarcely 400 saved. He was particularly interested in the fate of a child, Frank Hook, of Millicrest street, Toronto, a little fellow who has his leg broken.
Mr Levinson is now afraid that little Frank has been bereft of his parents and should that be so he considers it his duty to stand by the boy and help
him through life. He also mentioned that a Mrs. Maunsey (sic.) of 4420 La Port Avenue, Chicago, was coming over to England, to see a woman who was insane, and whom she believed to be her mother. The daughter's concern was due to this fact that the boat on which her mother travelled had also been torpedoed a little time ago by the Germans, as a result of which the woman's mind was unhinged by the shock.
Eleven year old Frank Hook was a third class passenger travelling from Toronto to England with his father George Hook and his elder sister Elsie, who was aged twelve. Joseph Levinson did not have to bother about little Frank’s future, however, as both his father and sister also survived, despite the family separation, which lasted for three days, as his father and sister were not aware that he was in Queenstown hospital and thought he had perished.
Mrs. Maunsey of 4420 La Port Avenue, Chicago was, in fact, Mrs. Sarah Lund, whose mother, Mrs. Fannie Mounsey, was listed among the missing when the Empress of Ireland sank in the St. Lawrence River on the 29th May 1914. Sometime later her family learned that a woman, who claimed to be Mrs. Fannie Mounsey, had been admitted to a mental institution in Liverpool, and Sarah Lund, her husband, Charles Lund, and her father William Mounsey, all decided to travel to Liverpool to see if the woman was, in fact, Mrs. Fannie Mounsey. William Mounsey and Charles Lund were lost when the Lusitania when it sank, only Sarah Lund surviving from the party of three. On reaching Liverpool, she discovered the woman in the mental institution was not her mother!
Bedroom Steward Grant, who had looked after Mr. Levinson in room B42, also survived the sinking.
On the 1st June 1915, a letter sent by Joseph Levinson to his family in Montreal was published in one of the local papers, The Gazette. His account states: -
… “I was in the dining saloon at the time having lunch. There were five at the table, and we all made a break for the deck. The ship already had such a list that it was impossible for me to go to my stateroom for a lifebelt, so I got on “C” deck, among the second-class passengers, and after hunting about, found a steward handing out belts. I got one and put it on, crawled out on the rail, and looked above me, to find that I was too far forward for the boats, so I slid down the deck to the main stairway, and climbed to “B” deck above. I again got out on the rail and jumped off into a boat which had been lowered. This boat immediately filled with water and capsized. The events which happened then are too horrible to tell about. As soon as I found myself in the water, I found that I could keep afloat quite easily by threading the water, just like walking the street, so I moved among the people, telling them what to do, and in this way I think I saved some lives. Never in my life did I feel cooler or more collected, and to this fact I think I owe my escape.
“After having been in the water for about an hour and a half, I was picked up by a collapsible boat with seven of the crew in it. We rowed around until we had thirty-two people on board. We then tried to make the Irish coast, but were picked up by a coast defence boat, about six o’clock, and taken to Queenstown. I remained there, looking after some of the people who had been hurt, and others who wanted messages sent. The accommodation there was not good, so Mr. George Kessler, the wine man, from New York, and I took the 11.15 train for Cork, where we got into a good hotel, had a doctor
in, and were made quite comfortable. I was much better off than most of the survivors, as I took off every stitch of clothes and dried them in the engine room of the steam trawler, which picked us up. I left Cork at 3.30 p.m. on Saturday, arriving at Manchester at 4.30 a.m. Sunday. I was all over bruises, and my knee troubled me. I am alright now, except for a healing thumb.
Having recovered from his ordeal, and concluding his business in England, Joseph Levinson boarded the St. Louis at Liverpool on the 26th June, and returned to Montreal, via New York. He continued to travel to Europe, South America, and Asia on behalf of his company for many years, and succeeded his father as president of the company in later years.
On his return to Montreal, he filed a claim with the Canadian Commission, seeking compensation of $970 for loss of his time while under medical treatment, hotel expenses, and doctor’s and surgeon’s fees and a further $984.90 for the loss of his personal effects. His case was decided on the 10th December 1926, and the Commission awarded him his full claim of $1,954.90, plus interest.
As well as being successful in business, Joseph Levinson was twice-elected chairman of The Federation of Jewish Philanthropies in Montreal, was the president of Elm Ridge Country Club for 12 years, and was an honorary life governor of both the Jewish General Hospital and Montreal General Hospital.
He never married, and died in the Jewish General Hospital in Montreal on the 18th November 1960, aged 81 years.
Quebec Canada Vital and Church Records (Drouin Collection) 1621 – 1968,1881 Census of Canada, 1911 Census of Canada, New York Passenger Lists 1820 – 1957, Canada Ocean Arrivals 1919 – 1924, Cunard Records, Cork Examiner, Huddersfield Chronicle, The Gazette, PRO 22/71, UniLiv D92/2/45, Deaths at Sea 1871 – 1968, Graham Maddocks, Geoff Whitfield, Michael Poirier, Jim Kalafus, Cliff Barry, Paul Latimer, Norman Gray.
Copyright © Peter Kelly.