About the song
“The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” penned by Canadian singer-songwriter Gordon Lightfoot, stands as a poignant memorial to the tragic sinking of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald on November 10, 1975, in Lake Superior. Released in 1976 as part of Lightfoot’s album Summertime Dream, the song quickly became renowned for its evocative storytelling and haunting melodies, solidifying itself as one of Lightfoot’s most iconic compositions.
The narrative of the song vividly recounts the ill-fated final voyage of the Edmund Fitzgerald, a bulk carrier that fell victim to a severe late-season storm on the Great Lakes, leading to the tragic loss of all 29 crew members. Lightfoot drew inspiration from various sources, including news reports and the poignant article “The Cruelest Month” in Newsweek, which detailed the aftermath of the disaster. His personal affinity for sailing on the Great Lakes lent an authentic depth to the lyrical imagery and emotional resonance of the ballad.
Recorded shortly after the incident, the song captures a blend of factual accounts and artistic interpretation. Lightfoot’s lyrical craftsmanship and melodic sensibility shine through, accompanied by the haunting guitar and steel riffs contributed by Pee Wee Charles and Terry Clements during the recording session at Eastern Sound in Toronto.
Initially reaching number 1 in Canada and achieving significant success in the United States, where it peaked at number 2 on the Billboard Hot 100, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” became a defining piece of Lightfoot’s career. Its commercial acclaim was matched by critical recognition, cementing its status as a timeless folk-rock classic that resonates deeply with listeners to this day.
The song’s enduring legacy is further underscored by its continued relevance in popular culture and its inclusion in historical documentaries, reaffirming its place as a poignant testament to maritime tragedy and the human spirit. Gordon Lightfoot’s poignant tribute continues to captivate audiences, ensuring that the memory of the Edmund Fitzgerald and its crew endures through the power of music and storytelling.
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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