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It's Edmund Fitzgerald weekend (edit)

Discussion in 'Anything goes' started by Smasher_Sloan, Nov 12, 2006.

  1. Smasher_Sloan

    Smasher_Sloan Active Member

    So you can drone along with Gordon Lightfoot on the 31st anniversary:

  2. Double J

    Double J Active Member

    Re: It's Nov. 12 -- Edmund Fitzgerald day

    Actually, Smasher, Friday was the 31st anniversary. It was November 10, 1975.
  3. Smasher_Sloan

    Smasher_Sloan Active Member

    Gracias. Appropriate revisions made.

    My faux pas notwithstanding, I hope the SJ Glee Club will provide an appropriately somber rendition of the Lightfoot song.
  4. Double J

    Double J Active Member

    I'll start. I'm doing it by memory, though. :)

    The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down, of the big lake they call Gitchee Gumee.
    The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead when the gales of November turn gloomy
  5. The lake it is said never gives up her dead,
    when the gales of November come early.
  6. Rosie

    Rosie Active Member

    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 skies of November turn gloomy
    With a load of iron ore twenty-six thousand tons more
    Than the Edmund Fitzgerald weighed empty.
    That good ship and crew 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 than 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'd been feelin'?
    The wind in the wire made a tattle-tale sound
    And a wave broke over the railing
    And every man knew, as the captain did too,
    T'was 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 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 big ship and crew was in peril.
    And later that night when their lights went outta sight
    Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

    Does any one 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'd put fifteen more miles behind her.
    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 of 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 a rustic old hall in Detroit they prayed,
    In the Maritime Sailors' Cathedral.
    The church bell chimed till 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!
  7. slappy4428

    slappy4428 Active Member

    Thanks for hogging it all and taking all the fun out of it for the rest of us....
  8. Rosie

    Rosie Active Member

    I was a kid when the Fitz went down, and it was one of those "I'll always remember where I was" moments when I heard the news.

    For some reason, I've always been facinated by Lake Superior shipwrecks, especially the Fitz. Maybe because I lived in Duluth for quite some time, I dunno. In Canal Park in Duluth, there is a shipping museum and there is a display dedicated to the Fitz. It's small, but any time I go to Canal Park, I go through there.

    On the ten year anniversary, two of my hockey teammates and I headed from Duluth to Minneapolis to attend the Vikings vs. Packers game. There was a special on the radio about the shipwreck and all three of us had tears streaming down our faces as we drove down I-35, listening to the rebroadcasts of newsclips and interviews with family members.

    Mr. Rosie's granddaddy worked on the ore ships on the big lake. The night the Fitz sank, he was home and he and my hubby were listening to the updates on the radio. He told my hubby that the boat most likely broke in half -- which was confirmed when the wreck was found a few years back. He never worked on the Fitz, but he knew several of the crewmembers who went down.

    There's something about Lake Superior that's so hard to put into words. I can go to her shores and sit for hours, staring mesmerized into her waves, marvelling how the shore on the other side cannot be seen. Some days the lake can be so calm, it's almost impossible to imagine a hurricane-like storm which could crash an ore ship like it was a dry twig.

    RIP, Capt. McSoreley and the Fitz crew.
  9. Rosie

    Rosie Active Member

    You want me to delete it?
  10. slappy4428

    slappy4428 Active Member

    No, he said pouting...
  11. Rosie

    Rosie Active Member

    It is too darned early in the morning for pouting, Slappy.
  12. slappy4428

    slappy4428 Active Member

    It's Sunday. I, for whatever reason, have always been a bigger asshole than normal on Sundays...
    So if I wanna pout, I'm gonna pout
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