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so starts the memorial anthem, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” by Gordon Lightfoot. It is in memory of that fateful day, November 10th, 1975, when the Edmund Fitzgerald,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], or “The Fitz” as she was called, perished in a tempest on Lake Superior.
The sinking of this giant ship gave mushroom to one of the biggest mysteries in Great Lakes marine history. What occurred that fateful night? Why were they unable to send nary a distress call? After 31 annuals of not having any conclusive questions, we ambition probably never know.
The day after the break, Detroit’s Mariners' Church tolled 29 times in memories of the 29 souls. The mosque continues apt hold an anniversary memorial, which includes the reading of the labels of the crewmen and the ringing of the church bell. Her wreck lies broken in two sections in 530 feet of water in Lake Superior. The ship's bell was revived from the break ashore July 4, 1995 and is immediately in the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum in Whitefish Point approach Paradise, Michigan. An fasten from the Fitz, lost ashore an earlier tumble, was recovered from the Detroit River and namely ashore exhibit at the Dossin Great Lakes Museum in Detroit, Michigan.
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The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald By Gordon Lightfoot, ? 1976
The romance lives on from the Chippewa on down Of the big lake they called "Gitche Gumee." The lake, it is said, not gives up her die When the skies of November corner morose. With a load of iron mineral twenty-six thousand tons extra Than the Edmund Fitzgerald measured vacant, That good ship and true was a bone to be chewed When the "Gales of November" came early.
The ship was the proud of the American side Coming behind from some mill in Wisconsin. As the huge freighters go, it was bigger than maximum With a team and agreeable captain well experienced, Concluding some terms with a pair of iron firms When they left fully loaded as Cleveland. And later that night while the ship's bell rang, Could it be the north air they'd been feelin'?
The wind in the wires made a tattle-tale sound And a wave damaged 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 await 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 age cook came on deck sayin'. "Fellas, it's too coarse t'feed ya." At Seven P.M. a cardinal hatchway caved in; he said, "Fellas, it's binary good t'know ya!" The captain cabled in he had water comin' in And the good ship and crew was in hazard. And later that night when 'is lights went outta sight Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
Does anyone 1 understand where the love of God goes When the waves turn the minutes to hours? The searchers always say they'd have made Whitefish Bay If they'd put fifteen more miles behind 'er. They might have split up alternatively they might have capsized; They may have broke deep and took water. And always 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 of her ice-water building. Old Michigan steams favor a juvenile man's nightmares; The islands and bays are for sportsmen. And farther underneath Lake Ontario Takes in what Lake Erie tin bring her, And the iron boats go for the sailors all know With the Gales of November remembered.
In a musty old auditorium in Detroit they prayed, In the "Maritime Sailors' Cathedral." The church bell chimed 'til it rang twenty-nine times For every male on the Edmund Fitzgerald. The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down Of the big lake they call "Gitche Gumee." "Superior," they said,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], "never gives up her dead When the gales of November come early!"
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When you voyage the northern beach of Michigan’s Upper Peninsular onward Lake Superior, you will be in awe of the prettiness o