Words That Matter: Great Book of Lists 2.2

This has been a crazy-busy week, so I’m doing a bit of multitasking in this post. What follows is my newest chapter in The Great Book of Lists. Thank you to La duchesse d’Erat for this excellent challenge. Here are the instructions for anyone interested:

• Every Monday, I will propose a theme and you will have until Sunday night to publish your ticket, including the hashtag #TGBOL and a ping back (link) to the post announcing the topic which you are participating.
• I will publish a summary of holdings with a new theme on Monday.
• The comments section will allow you to say on what topics you want to write or to do lists.
• Do not forget to subscribe to the blog so as not to miss the ads Monday.

In addition, this list is also in response to the Three Quotation Challenge. Thanks Jade M. Wong for including me. (Please forgive me for combining my three quotes in one day and skipping the tagging people part. The way this week has gone, I’m just glad to get to participate at all).

Okay, so here’s this week’s prompt and my response:

The Great Book of Lists 2.2: Words That Matter

Words, as simple as they may seem, possess power. Once spoken, you cannot take them back. Once said, it’ll be either white or black.

 

So today, let’s make a list of those words that has pushed you forward, to do good, to be glad. Words that kept you standing. Words that encouraged you to keep moving. Words that picked you up. Words that lit you up. Words that introduced you to an unknown world. Words that explained you the meaning of life, even beyond earth.

 

Those words deserve to be shared, so let’s share them today.

1. If you’ve read my “What I’m About” page or taken a look around my site, you’ll see I’m a big fan of where I live. I’ve moved around the country and traveled the world, and there’s really no place like home.

2. One of the most famous shipwrecks in the Great Lakes was memorialized in the song “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” by Gordon Lightfoot. I’ve grown up singing that song, and I can’t help but think of these lines whenever I stand on the shore of Lake Superior.

3. I’ve always loved the Robert Hayden poem “Those Winter Sundays” because it reminds me of my dad and because of the simple yet evocative descriptions of cold mornings. I’ve included just the first stanza here.

4. This is my favorite love poem. I’m not particularly mushy, but something about Brook’s lines “His hand to take your hand is overmuch” and “…you are free with a ghastly freedom” have resonated with me from the first time I read this piece.

5. This is kind of a sad poem, emphasizing the idea that our pain is our own and that life goes on even when we are in the midst of tragedy, but I love the way Auden uses Brueghel paintings–especially Landscape with the Fall of Icarus, which hangs in my office–to remind us that life isn’t all about us.

6. Although all of these words above have mattered to me at some point in my life, the words that matter most are the ones below, written by my son:

Okay, your turn! What words have mattered to you in a significant way? 

Keeping the Edmund Fitzgerald Alive for a New Generation

“Edmund Fitzgerald, 1971, 3 of 4 (restored)” by Greenmars. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Edmund_Fitzgerald,_1971,_3_of_4_(restored).jpg#/media/File:Edmund_Fitzgerald,_1971,_3_of_4_(restored).jpg

Today is a special day in my household. Today’s date, November 10, has been marked on the calendar with big red letters reading “FITZ.” We started the morning by listening to Gordon Lightfoot’s song “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” and my seven- and five-year-old sons are eager to get home from school this evening so they can put on the Edmund Fitzgerald play they created. At some point today, we’ll read through the countless articles written about the Fitz (especially the great series from the Toledo Blade) and watch the video footage we’ve all seen many times before.

For those who aren’t aware, today marks the 40^th anniversary of the sinking of the S. S. Edmund Fitzgerald, November 10, 1975, a tragedy in Michigan history. Around the state and throughout the Great Lakes region, commemorations are being held to honor the 29 sailors who disappeared into Lake Superior. At the Shipwreck Museum at Whitefish Point tonight at 7,

By Duchene9 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)

they’ll ring the bell of the Edmund Fitzgerald 30 times, once for every man killed when the great ship went down and once more for all sailors lost at sea.

My family wasn’t personally touched by the tragedy. We lost no relatives the night the Fitz disappeared beneath the waves. However, we spend our summers along Lake Superior, in particular, along a section known as Michigan’s shipwreck coast. My sons have grown up not just hearing about the great ships traveling the Great Lakes, but they’ve seen them with their own eyes. They’ve walked along the beach and touched the bones of old ships washed onto the shore. They’ve been to the museum at Whitefish Point and studied the bell retrieved in 1995 from the Fitz. My seven-year-old son has studied the museum displays and read so many books he even argues with others about his theories about what caused the Fitz to sink.

Speaking of my seven-year-old, this year, when we asked him what he wanted to be for Halloween, he took no time answering. He wanted to be the S. S. Edmund Fitzgerald. I shouldn’t have been surprised because he has a fascination with Great Lakes shipwrecks like the L.R. Doty, the Iosco, the Olive Jeanette, and others. It’s the loss of the Fitz, however, that has made history come alive for him in a way no textbook ever could.

Tonight, when we finish watching the play the boys have created, we’ll sit in front of the computer at 7 pm and watch the live stream of the Shipwreck Museum’s Edmund Fitzgerald Memorial on Fox32. We’ll mourn those lost on the Great Lakes, and we’ll ensure they will be remembered by a new generation.

An Opportunity to Remember: The Loss of the Edmund Fitzgerald

Since I’ve been writing a novel that takes place in the shadow of Lake Superior in the years between 1975 and 1995, it seems only fitting that I commemorate the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald today, the 39th anniversary of the ship’s loss. This is a solemn day for Michiganders, as we remember the many who have lost their lives on our lakes throughout the years.

If you’re in the Detroit area, the Detroit Free Press has announced a commemoration for tonight:

The evening’s activities are to begin with a lantern vigil at the Edmund Fitzgerald anchor, followed by a performance by Great Lakes balladeer Lee Murdock and an honor guard escort of a memorial wreath to the Detroit River for receipt by a flotilla of Great Lakes vessels.

Photo from Detroit Free Press, November 10, 2014

My novel is not about the Fitz itself, but not coincidentally the action begins on the same night the great ship disappeared from radar. As a Michigan resident and someone who has seen many of these giant ships traverse the Great Lakes, it’s hard for me not to be affected by the thought that such a large ship could sink below the water so easily. That idea haunts me–and surfaces in interesting ways in my writing.

Surprisingly, even though this was considered one of the worst maritime losses in Great Lakes history, few people remember much about the Edmund Fitzgerald these days. No such disasters have occurred on the Great Lakes in my lifetime, so many people find it hard to believe that the waters of the Great Lakes could have produced enough force to take the lives of somewhere between 25 and 30,000 people over recorded history.

Tragedies like the loss of the S.S. Fitzgerald affect the collective memory of a region (thanks to Gordon Lightfoot’s 1976 ballad, maybe even a country in the case of the Fitz) but are sadly often lost to time. After a generation or two, few remember the events of that night that seemed so terrible except for family members and history buffs.

Perhaps that fading from our collective memories is the greatest loss of all. Perhaps that is why I write, bringing the events and people of the past into sharper focus for readers. Today, I will remember the men who died on November 10, 1975, in the icy waters of Lake Superior–and the many others who have also perished in service on the Great Lakes.

What moments in your regional history do you consider important to commemorate? What will you keep alive through your writing?