Posted on 11/10/2014 6:15:41 AM PST by Cincinatus
You sound like you understand this kind of thing. At one point in his extended talk, Cooper described what he saw on the weather chart, and you could tell it had knocked him off his stride when he first realized what was happening. I later located a chart that documented the interplay of wind and water on Superior that night. Honestly, I couldn’t really grasp the full gist of it. It must have been hair-raising.
Here’s a humorous aside. Captain Cooper, of the Anderson, told the story of one young seaman who took his maiden voyage aboard the Anderson at the same time the Fitz went down. Before they sailed the young man was gung-ho, and actually said he hoped they encountered a storm. He wanted to see what they were like on Lake Superior.
After the Anderson finally made the safety of Whitefish Bay, the young man thought the worst was over. When he was informed they were going back out to search for survivors, he headed to his bunk. He made out a last will & testament, and sealed it in a bottle with wax. He assumed they would never get back alive.
No, I’m serious!
Okay, Ed. Or do you prefer Fitz?
I was 12 years old when the fitz sank. Grew up on the west side of Michigan, right on the lake.
it is incredible how quickly the lake can get ugly when storms come through. November is not a good time to be near the lakes, let alone on them. I imagine Superior is x3 in the intensity. I have only seen it in summer and fall time.
I remember this storm...it was nasty that night. The witch of November, indeed.
I will always have a healthy respect for the mariners of the Great Lakes.
One of the most powerful lines I have ever heard in a song. Lightfoot’s poetry captured the terror and hopelessness those men must have felt on the terrible day.
May God have mercy on their souls. I’ll say a prayer for them tonight.
(or Doesn't Fitz)
Haunting.
Hard to take.
So many good brave men.
That’s the line that always kills me. The laconic “goodbye” from the cook.
That was just excellent. Thanks for posting.
Thank you.
It's a long story.
At some point on June 12, 1975 afternoon, I began to feel an insane headache coming on. I don't get many headaches, and what few I do are mostly ignorable. I hate to medicate. However, this one was affecting my eyes and stomach and didn't feel like my usual "Lord, I'm getting old" sinus headache. I believe it was in reaction to my decision to clean the apartment. A defense mechanism, if you will.
Rather than medicate, I bought new sunglasses, we came home ,and I laid down for a while. Got up and turned on music, made dinner and fed my family. Sat down backwards on my chair, breaking my hip and both my legs, and decided that of course! Tonight was the night for movie haus!
I am an idiot.
I ran from the apartment, as the description assured me that the movie started at 7:30 and it was then 7:15. Ten minutes to get to the theater from here, and when I crossed the street, I angered a car. The spit cacodemons out its mouth. Now, I was hoping and praying it's the right one as there are two theaters on the same stretch of road within a quarter mile of each other, and I always go to the wrong one, the one NOT showing the movie I want to see -- only to find out that the movie begins at 8:00.
Oh. Okay. Excellent.
Ticket, 3D glasses and a half hour wait outside of their one 3D screening room while the various workers cleaned from the last show which was still letting out when I and a handful of my compatriots arrived. I stood in the corridor and tweeted and texted Bryan and fantasized about having a phone that not only played all of my music as my Sony Ericsson w580i does beautifully -- I'm very loyal -- but also texts with ease and has other fun features that could keep me occupied for half an hour as I wait for a movie. However, as much as I adore my practically old-fashioned phone, it's not terribly entertaining when not acting as my mp3 player, so I contented myself with listening to the other would-be movie-goers while pretending not to be paying any attention. This is what I learned: somewhere in Georgia there is snowboarding. I have never been snowboarding, but the mere fact that this opportunity exists excites me. I also learned that high-schoolers can be inappropriately affectionate in public. I also learned that yesterday, Avatar had been released exactly one month before.
The overall lesson is this: people are interesting.
The theater opened, newly cleaned. We poured in, like new wine. The snowboarders sat exactly in the row & position that I would have chosen -- durnit -- so I ended up in the row ahead of them, a mite too near the screen for comfort, but whatever; the seats are like recliners, so I just snuggled back as much as I could to make viewing less nauseating. I listened to the people around me and tweeted about it, wishing I knew how to dim the screen on my phone so I could tweet during the movie because I hate not having someone to talk to during a movie; Bryan and Bethany can both attest to this. I like to make comments and share snickers. (When I went to see Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe several years ago with my extended family, I actually ran up the aisle during the preview for Curious George so I could point out to my parents, seated further back, that the name of the ship was the H.A. Rey. You know, the author of the Curious George books? Yeah, my parents didn't care either.) Previews began. Screen froze. Guys behind me commented about loading icons, depending on the operating system that the theater is using. Previews began again. Guys behind me commented on how these previews are in 3D, no, wait, they aren't? No, they aren't. But they're orange if you wear the glasses. I was loving the annoying talking behind me.
The movie began. The movie was awesome. The movie was beautiful and lush and fun. I laughed inappropriately when no one else was laughing which is totally normal, so I knew I wasn't dead from the headache just yet. That's right, still nursing that headache, and, unsurprisingly, the headache worsened, more and more as the movie went on. I routinely dropped the 3D glasses practically to my chin so I could clamp my hands over my eyes and temples. Never for very long, though; I didn't want to miss any visuals. By the time the movie ended, I was as good as blind. I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, but I. Hurt. I'm glad we live so close to the theater, because I can drive home with my eyes open and brain on auto-pilot, and I did.
I don't medicate headaches if I can help it, but when I do, I have the verybesteverIloveitsomuch medicine, Advil Cold & Sinus, which is actually Bryan's drug of choice for his insane and inexplicable headaches. I have to buy it from the pharmacy because it contains the evil pseudoephedrine, but that evil pseudoephedrine is my illicit lover. I suspect the day will come when I leave Bryan and run away with pseudoephedrine to live on a beach somewhere.
Forty minutes after the movie, my killer headache was numb and I was again functioning. I went to bed, where I dozed and reveled in my lack of murderous headache and fantasized about Avatar. By the time I finally fell asleep, I'd decided I need to watch it again, this time without the headache from Sheol.
I want to be able to give a penguin my full attention.
NOW you know why they call me Zeitel.
Ritz (Hitz) Fitz.
Decades ago I heard a rendition of the song by a comedian who IIRC, had bit about how could the song be any more sad;
“Back on the shore
there was no insurance
so the kids turned to drugs and
prostituution...”
If you think that’s creepy, remember this?
“If You Could Read My Mind”
If you could read my mind, love
What a tale my thoughts could tell
Just like an old-time movie
‘Bout a ghost from a wishin’ well
In a castle dark or a fortress strong
With chains upon my feet
You know that ghost is me
And I will never be set free
As long as I’m a ghost that you can’t see
‘Haunting’ is really the only word to describe it. Ten miles from safety, and it might as well have been a thousand. Cooper mentioned Captain McSorley’s decision to check his speed, so as to allow the Anderson to follow more closely. What if McSorley had kept on going full speed? Could he have made Whitefish before nose diving?
We’ll never know.
Here’s an interesting side note. Given the length of these ore carriers, even in 500 ft of water [depth at which the Fitz sank] the bow could strike the lake floor while the stern remained above water, upended [at least very briefly, though the force of impact would probably grind the middle of the ship to fragments, separating the two ends (which accts for the bow being right side up and the stern being upside down in their final resting places).] Scary thought.
Remember the song “Timothy”? About canibalism in a collapsed coal mine. Weirdest song of the 1970’s for sure.
Was it that long ago? My how the time flies. You're remembering Richard Jeni's version the song. Jeni (despite skewering us conservatives first) made me bust out laughing with his description of political extremism.
He had slowed because they had lost their radar. Anderson was trying to guide them with their radar.
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