I could not have been any older than nine when I received a thick, hardcover book titled Planet Earth as a gift. Zebras, volcanoes, and the ancient Egyptians decorated the pages and it seemed that I could flip to any spot and immediately entertain my mind. Inside this book I found two pages that I would learn to love forever, so much that even today the book falls to them when opened due to the crease in its spine. Hues of brown, black, dark blue and aquatic green filled the page background. The bow of a sunken ship jetted out towards me, sans 3-D printing. From these side by side pages I learned about the Titanic, from the day the ship set sail on April 10, 1912 to the wreckage still lying on the Atlantic's floor today. April 15th of this year marks the 104th anniversary of the Titanic's sinking. I remember it every April.

As a young Titanic fan I enthusiastically chose the subject for my class biography without taking any more time than a minute to decide, while my classmates took their time to select Abraham Lincoln and Princess Diana from our school library. I barely had to venture further from my own bookshelf, or think twice about which pages I wanted to use for class. Captain Smith planned to retire after the Titanic's maiden voyage, I wrote. He went down with the ship and was called "the millionaire's captain" because of his successful White Star Line career.

In my high school years I worked at my community's public library, during which the 100th anniversary of the ship's sinking arrived in the spring of 2012. I spent the weeks leading up to the date rounding up anything Titanic related I could find in the library or my room back home. In the library's front entrance stood two large glass display cases, and the head librarian stated that I could decorate one in commemoration of the sinking. For the background of the cases's top shelf I hung black and white photos of the ship before its sinking, and propped my favorite books open, including Walter Lord's A Night to Remember.

My collectable piece of coal from the Titanic exhibit sat in its box with the lid laid beside it. Coal, I learned, remains the only piece of wreckage permitted to be collected and sold from the ship's resting site. I stared at the piece my parents purchased for me from the travelingTitanic exhibit when it arrived in Pittsburgh. The black rock, approximately the size of a stone from my own driveway, came with its certificate of authenticity. Every time I opened the box and touched it, I felt an object that traveled through time. I held a piece of 1912 that once departed from Southampton, descended to the Atlantic Ocean's floor, and became a part of history after sailing on a ship that I would only see in photographs.

Today at college I walk downstairs into the kitchen of Alpha Xi Delta's sorority house, carrying my empty teacup and matching blue wisteria patterned saucer. Flipping the cup over, I read 'TITANIC REPLICA: MICROWAVE SAFE' while rubbing dish soap over its White Star Line flag logo. The first class dishes display a red and gold colored company logo, while second and third class dishes have only a solid red flag. First class receive the intricate logos, of course, since multiple colors cost more to produce. These facts run through my brain since the day I first read about the Titanic in Planet Earth. I hope to build this collection of knowledge for the rest of my life. I remain fascinated by a world that existed over a hundred and four years ago.