Another statement by Mr. McGough was that when a man, presumably an Associated Press correspondent, boarded the Carpathia off Cape Cod, and tried to wireless a message ashore a ship officer seized it and threw it into the ocean. Several weeks ago Mr. McGough was sent abroad on a purchasing trip for his firm. With him were J. D. Flynn, of New York, formerly of Philadelphia, and N. P. Calderhead, also a former Philadelphian. When the gang plank was thrown down from the Carpathia, Mr. McGough was the first passenger from the ill-starred Titanic to land, waiting for him were his wife, Mrs. Mary McGough, and his three brothers, Philip A., Thomas and Andrew McGough, all of 252 South Seventh street, Philadelphia. His wife saw him first. Stretching out her arms, she threw herself from the police lines toward him, and in a moment he had her clasped in his embrace. SENDS A MESSAGE TO HIS MOTHER. Afterward he rushed through the crowd and took a motor car to the home of a relative. Thence he went to the Imperial Hotel. From the hotel he sent a message to his mother at 252 South Seventh street. “I am here, safe,” the message read. “The collision which caused the loss of the Titanic,” Mr. McGough said, “occurred about 11.40 o’clock. I had an outer state-room on the side toward the iceberg against which the ship crashed. Flynn who occupied the room with me, had just gone to bed. Calderhead was in bed in a stateroom adjoining. “When the crash came, I ran to the porthole. I saw the ice pressed close against the side of the ship. Chunks of it were ground off, and they fell into the window. I happened to glance at my watch, and it showed me exactly the hour. “I knew that something was seriously wrong, and hastily got into my clothes. I took time, also, to get my watch and money. Flynn, in the meantime, had run over to Calderhead’s stateroom and had awakened him. When I had dressed I ran outside. “I saw the iceberg. The boat deck stood about ninety feet out of the water and the berg towered above us for at least fifty feet. I judge the berg stood between 140 and 150 feet out of the water. “Many of the women on board, I am sure, did not leave their staterooms at once. They stayed there, at least for a time. I believe that many of them did not awaken to their danger until near the last. “One statement I want to correct, the lights did not go out, at least not while I was on board. When I ran to the deck I heard Captain Smith order that the air chambers be examined. An effort was made to work the doors closing the compartments, but to no avail. When the ship ran upon the iceberg, the sharp-pointed berg cut through both thicknesses of the bottom and left it in such a position that it filled rapidly. MIGHT HAVE PERISHED.