Gordon Lightfoot – The Wreck Of The Edmund Fitzgerald

Introduction:

Canadian folk icon Gordon Lightfoot etched a permanent mark on musical history with the release of “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” in 1976. This powerful ballad, a cornerstone of Lightfoot’s discography, falls under the umbrella of folk music, a genre known for its focus on storytelling and social commentary. Lightfoot himself wrote and produced the song, lending a personal touch to the narrative.

“The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” is not simply a song; it’s a poignant and detailed account of a real-life disaster. The song centers around the SS Edmund Fitzgerald, a massive Great Lakes freighter that tragically sank during a brutal storm on Lake Superior in November 1975. All 29 crew members perished in the icy waters, leaving a deep scar on the Great Lakes community.

Lightfoot’s ballad takes the listener on a chronological journey of the final hours of the Edmund Fitzgerald. The lyrics weave a vivid picture of the worsening weather conditions, the struggle of the crew, and the desperate attempts to save the floundering ship. The song doesn’t shy away from the harsh realities of the disaster, mentioning details like the radio communication between the doomed freighter and surrounding vessels.

“The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” was a massive commercial success. It topped the Canadian singles chart and reached an impressive number two spot on the prestigious Billboard Hot 100 chart in the United States. This level of achievement was particularly impressive for a folk song, a genre not typically known for mainstream dominance. The song’s popularity can be attributed to Lightfoot’s masterful storytelling and the inherent human fascination with tragedy.

More importantly, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” transcended the realm of mere entertainment and became a powerful memorial to the crew of the Edmund Fitzgerald. The song ensured that the sailors’ sacrifice would not be forgotten, and it offered a sense of solace to the grieving families and friends.

Even today, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” endures as a classic of folk music. It continues to be played on radio stations across North America and is a staple at folk festivals and memorial services for fallen sailors. The song’s legacy is a testament to the power of music to memorialize tragedy, celebrate heroism, and connect us to our shared history.

Video:

Lyrics:

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big lake they call 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 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 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 wires 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 7 PM, a main hatchway caved in, he said
“Fellas, it’s been good to 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 his 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 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