Posted on 08/07/2007 10:24:07 PM PDT by SunkenCiv
Joe Rasch and his two daughters, Emily and Elizabeth, were looking for agates on the Lake Superior coastline last Friday. Instead, they found a piece of history -Â a life ring from the Edmund Fitzgerald. Rasch admits he didn't realize what he found when he first saw the orange ring lying under a with pine tree that had fallen. Only when his daughter Emily read the words on the ring, it hit him. "It was pretty hard to read," Emily said. "I saw the Ed pretty good, then Fitz, so." They made the discovery near the Keweenau Peninsula, about 200 miles from where the Edmund Fitzgerald sank in November 1975. Rasch said he gets chills whenever he carries the ring, and doesn't believe it was a coincidence. "It was time for it to be found," he told 24 Hour News 8, "for people to be reminded of all 29 people who went down and the power of Lake Superior. It wasn't that long ago." Rasch, an apple farmer... and his family plan to donate it to the museum, which already has one ring from the ship... on November 10, the 32nd anniversary of the Fitzgerald's sinking.
(Excerpt) Read more at woodtv.com ...
The life ring Joe Rasch and his daughters found.Nice job, Joe.
Merchant Marine BTTT
ping
“..Everyman knew and the captain did too....”
The Wreck Of the Edmund Fitzgerald
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 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 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 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 searches 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;
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 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!
========= by Gordon Lightfoot
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 - 26,000 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 Wisconson
As the big freighters go it was bigger than most
With a crew and the 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 ships bell rang
Could it be the North Wind they'd been feeling.
The wind in the wires made a tattletale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the Captain did, too,
T'was the witch of November come stealing.
The dawn came late and the breakfast had to wait
When the gales of November came slashing
When afternoon came it was freezing rain
In the face of a hurricane West Wind.
When supper time came the old cook came on deck
Saying 'Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya''
At 7PM a main hatchway caved in
He said ''Fellas it's been good to know ya''.
The Captain wired in he had water coming in
And the good ship and crew was in peril
And later that night when his lights went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
Does anyone know where the love of God goes
When the words 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 might 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 ruins 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 29 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 say, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early.
==========
Nonetheless, FReegards!
Thank you for the link. Was a great slideshow along with a great tune.
You’re quite welcome. Nothing drives home the impact of a such a disaster quite like the “Before” photos — especially ones of the people involved. And that song is probably the best thing Lightfoot ever wrote.
Thanks!
It’s as haunting a song as has ever been written.+
I would really like to know WHERE EXACTLY on the Keweenaw Peninsula he found it. I was born there and lived there for about 6 years through various parts of my life. It is one gigantic welfare/envirofreakland. That is why I live in Oro Valley, Arizona...one of the richest towns in Arizona. Although I must say, up there in MI had the greatest 4-wheeler trails...they had miles upon miles of railroad bed, which had not seen a train since 1967, plus you could use shoreline of Lake Superior.
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.
I did a double take, how could they quote the song before it came out and while the initial search was under way? It seems it was the other way around. Lightfoot was lightfingered as far as the lyrics.
The Freddie was the smallest boat I've been on, the Gott was the biggest. I did Electrical Commissiong on all ten Bay Ship 750 hulls in the 70-80's in Sturgeon Bay WI.
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