IN MEMORY: EDMUND FITZGERALD

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee"

The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead

When the skys of november turn gloomy

With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more

Then the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty

That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed

When the "Gales of November" came early

The ship was the pride of the American side

Coming back from some mill in Wisconsin

As the big freighters go, it was bigger then most

With a crew and good captain well seasoned

Concluding some terms with a couple of steel firms

When they left fully loaded for Cleveland

And later that night when the ship's bell rang

Could it be the north wind they been feelin'?

The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound

And a wave broke over the railing

And ev'ry man knew, as the captain did too

'twas the witch of November come stealin'

The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait

When the Gales of November came slashin'

When afternoon came it was freezin' rain

in the face of a hurricane west wind

When suppertime came the old cook came on deck sayin'

"Fellas, it's been too rough to feed ya"

At seven P.M. a main hatchway caved in, he said,

"Fellas, it's been good t'know ya"

The captain wired in he had water comin' in

And the good ship and crew was in peril

And later that night when 'is lights went outta sight

Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

Does anyone know where the love of God goes

When the waves turn the minutes to hours?

The searchers all say they'd have made Whitefish Bay

If they put fifteen more miles behind 'er

They might have split up or they might have capsized

They may have broke deep and took water

And all that remains is the faces and the names

Of the wives and the sons and the daughters

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings

In the rooms for her ice-water mansion

Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams

The islands and bays are for sportsmen

And farther below Lake Ontario

Takes in what Lake Erie can send her

And the iron boats go as the mariners all know

With the Gales of November remembered

In the musty old hall in Detroit they prayed

in the "Maritime Sailors' Cathedral"

The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times

For each man on the Edmund Fitzgerald

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down

Of the big lake they call "Gitche Gumee"

"Superior" they said, "never gives up her dead

When the gales of November come early!"

November 10, 1975. Thirty-one years ago today.

In the last couple of years I have had the privilege of spending a good deal of time vacationing in Sault Ste. Marie, MI. Our good friends, Tom and Brenda Benedict have a cabin up on the Saint Mary’s River and they have had us up there several times. One of the things I really enjoy about their spot is that the ships upbound and downbound from the Soo Locks go right past. With a good set of binoculars you can see the men on the ships and watch them as they steam past. It rather personalizes the story of the Edmund Fitzgerald to see the descendants of her sailors doing the same things they once did.

Today is bright and sunny in Michigan.

There is a storm scheduled to hit the Great Lakes tomorrow.

(Lyrics by Gordon Lightfoot)