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And all of a sudden, overnight, magic happened outside of the bedroom!
50 years ago tonight the Edmund Fitzgerald went down in a gale on Lake Superior with her entire crew of 29 men. At the time she was the largest ship on the lakes at over 800 ft long and carrying almost 26000 tons of iron ore from Wisconsin to the mills in Detroit and Cleveland. November 10, 1975. I was 5 years old at the time and was living in Traverse City, Michigan. My grandfather worked most his life on the Great Lakes freighters and ore boats. He had several friends on board the Fitz when she went down. I’ve always been drawn to the Upper Peninsula and Lake Superior, probably why I spend so much time backpacking the forests and shoreline of the UP. There is just something about that lake. The largest freshwater lake in the world and the coldest and deepest of the Great Lakes. Every time I see that lake it’s like a spiritual experience. The Ojibwe called it Gitchee Gumee which means huge water or big sea.
“The lake it is said never gives up her dead when the gales of November come early.”
