It was just casual conversation, to be honest, that made me look away. My happy hour mate, after all, had simply mentioned The Gales of November, John U. Bacon’s retelling of the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
Clearly, I was not the only one, as when I mentioned the same book several weeks later, the Ohioan receiving the information became misty-eyed as well.
Perhaps it’s the fallen majesty, how a Great Lakes freighter so iconic could simply disappear, swallowed on November 10, 1975, by the merciless Lake Superior.
Or perhaps it’s the irony that the ship, named after the president of Milwaukee’s Northwestern Mutual, could be met with the dreaded outcome that the company insured.
It’s undoubtedly the lives of the 29 men, the ones who brought iron ore from the shores of Lake Superior to the steel mills on the lower lakes. Together, along with the families they left behind, they helped build the American economy.
It’s also the haunting ballad that the shipwreck inspired—the 1976 classic “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.” Written by the Canadian Gordon Lightfoot, himself an experienced Great Lakes sailor who would become close with surviving family members, the song shattered the idea of what it took to have a hit. Six minutes, twenty-eight two-line stanzas, no chorus, and no hook—raw emotion miraculously translated that formula into number two on the Billboard Hot 100.
And conceivably, it’s the occasional reminder, the type that might arise on a cold winter day courtesy a popular American porter. That tribute comes from Great Lakes Brewing Company, whose Edmund Fitzgerald Porter has accompanied many a conversation around these parts.
It’s all that.
But it’s more.
The reason for the dewy eyes, 50 years after the original heartbreak, can be found on the book jacket of Bacon’s account:
At the height of America’s postwar boom, no region was more vital to the nation’s economic strength than the Great Lakes. It was the beating heart of the global economy—possessing all the power and prestige that Silicon Valley enjoys today.
Bacon goes on to remind us that at the time of the tragedy, Toledo, home to about a quarter of the fallen crew, had a larger population than Portland (OR), Miami, Tampa, Charlotte, and Salt Lake City.
The Edmund Fitzgerald, in other words, has become a metaphor.
Just prior to the fateful moment, as he battled a historic storm and a list, Ernest McSorley, the seasoned captain of the Fitz, said, We are holding our own.
A half century later, we here in the Great Lakes region—including the champions among us—can’t help but look around and wonder, Are we really?
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