Here is the picture of the Alfred D. Snow - the ship that went down in 1888. My great-great uncle P.H. Sullivan was the first-mate on that ship. All hands were lost. The wreck made such an impression on the locals that a ballad was composed: Thanks again to Margaret McCrea and the Thomaston, ME Historical Society for all the great information!
The ALFRED D. SNOW (click on title for pdf of full lyrics)
by Michael O'Brien
Of ship-wrecks and dis-ast-ers we've read & seen a deal, But now the coast of Wex-ford must tell a dread-ful tale. On the
fourth day of Jan-u-ary the wind in a gale did blow, And four & twen-ty hands were lost on the "Al-fred D. Snow."
From the port of San Francisco she sailed across the main, Bound for the port of Liverpool, her cargo it was grain. On a
happy day she sailed away to cross the stormy foam: There's not a soul alive to-day to bring the tidings home.
If you'll attention pay to me, I won't detain you long, As I recall the mournful facts in this most feeling song. [END SNIPET]
Labels: Sullivan
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