**PARADISE, MICHIGAN — Remembering the Edmund Fitzgerald 50 Years Later**
Whitefish Point, located along the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, is famously known as the Shipwreck Coast and, among sailors, as the Graveyard of the Great Lakes. This treacherous cape juts out into Lake Superior like a witch’s nose or perhaps a raven’s beak — beautiful, yet harsh and unforgiving. It is here, 50 years ago this week, that the legendary shipping freighter *Edmund Fitzgerald* met its tragic end.
On Monday, at the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum in Whitefish Point, a poignant memorial honored the 29 crew members who perished when the Fitzgerald sank on November 10, 1975. As family and friends gathered, a ship’s bell rang 29 times—each chime struck by someone with a personal connection to the lost crew. The bell’s toll echoed loudly against the relentless wind, a solemn reminder of the fierce gales of November that often batter this unforgiving stretch of coastline.
Whitefish Point, situated on unincorporated land in Chippewa County near Paradise, sits in a remote corner of northern Michigan. Homes here resemble forest compounds, built to withstand the harsh weather and the isolation. Trees, battered by wind, vary in shape like Christmas trees at different stages of decoration, and American flags have often faded to near transparency. Weather at Whitefish Point is notoriously severe, so much so that the Shipwreck Museum warned guests to expect possible power outages and the use of backup generators during the memorial.
The ceremony was among several held to mark the 50th anniversary of the sinking. The Mariners’ Church of Detroit also held a service and rang a replica bell in honor of the lost crew.
John U. Bacon, an Ann Arbor-based historian and author of the bestselling *The Gales of November: The Untold Story of the Edmund Fitzgerald*, explained that computer models of the November 10, 1975 storm suggest the ship was struck by towering waves up to 60 feet high and winds reaching nearly 100 mph. Although the precise cause of the sinking remains debated — including theories such as popped hatches, excessive freight, or a scrape on a sandbar — the harsh conditions at this part of Lake Superior played a critical role. The area is frequently shrouded in dense fog, snow squalls, and even clouds of forest fire smoke. That fateful night, the Fitzgerald’s radar was out, and the lighthouse at Whitefish Point was dark.
The story of the Edmund Fitzgerald is so well known and recounted so regularly at Whitefish Point that its details have taken on an almost liturgical quality — imposing and solemn.
The night before the ceremony, Tim Carlin from the Toledo suburbs, who rang the bell in honor of his friend Thomas Bentsen (an oiler on the ship), woke at three in the morning, worried he might falter in his tribute. Darrell Walton, who rang the bell for his uncle Ralph G. Walton, also an oiler, found himself overcome with emotion, reflecting that he had attended too many funerals over the past 50 years.
Family was well represented: five of the six Riippa siblings lost their brother Paul, a deckhand on the Fitzgerald. David Riippa, the youngest sibling, was just 17 in 1975 and remembers hearing about the sinking on the news, with Harry Reasoner reporting it. His niece, Stephanie Slayback of Wapella, Illinois, recalls her mother’s prayerful reaction to the devastating news.
David also recounted seeking hope by asking a Coast Guard captain if Paul might have found refuge on the ship, only to be told there was no chance.
Out in the dunes at Whitefish Point stands a handmade memorial dedicated to five crew members, including Paul Riippa. The memorial is fenced in by long pieces of sun-bleached driftwood left behind by storms. Nearby, markers honor other crew members such as Thomas Bentsen, who was trying to avoid family turmoil, and Bruce Hudson, whose pregnant high school senior girlfriend still came to the ceremony to remember him.
Seated in the cold sand along the beach was Todd Strother of Madison, Wisconsin, reflecting on the crew’s likely thoughts during the storm and pondering the enduring legend of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
“There’s an aura of classic mythology now,” he said. “And I wonder if people will still be telling the story 100 years from now?”
Much of the enduring legacy is thanks to Gordon Lightfoot, the Canadian singer-songwriter whose 1976 hit “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” has become the unofficial hymn of Whitefish Point. Visitors sang along or quietly listened to the haunting melody, which many described as a sacred liturgy that shapes much of what is known about the tragedy.
In the parking lot, a popular bumper sticker summed it up perfectly: “Stop honking. I’m crying to ‘The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald’ by Gordon Lightfoot.”
More than 200 ships have sunk near Whitefish Point — about a third of all known shipwrecks in Lake Superior — but the Fitzgerald remains the most famous, immortalized in a Top 40 song and in popular lore. Governor Gretchen Whitmer noted at the ceremony, “The ship has now passed into lore.”
Visitors of all ages honored the memory: children cradled model ships, parents wore Fitzgerald hoodies, and a 12-year-old girl sported ice-fishing pants and a Fitzgerald T-shirt. Some came simply to touch the waters fifty years later.
Shannon Henige, who has been drawn to the story every November 10 since childhood, slept in her car at Whitefish Point the night before to be ready for the memorial. Kate Lynnes, recalling the day in 1975 when she was in college in western Upper Peninsula, remembered Lake Superior as “never more pissed off.”
Whitefish Point’s Shipwreck Coast gained its reputation due to the volume of maritime traffic and the perilous weather. Freighters transporting iron ore from western Michigan and nearby ports like Duluth, Minnesota, and Superior, Wisconsin (where the Fitzgerald set sail on November 9, 1975) navigate this route before heading south toward the Soo Locks — gateways to Lake Huron, Lake Erie, and ports from Toledo to Chicago.
The shoreline’s relatively shallow waters have claimed so many ships that masts sometimes protrude above the waves on calm days. Among those lost here were the *Comet*, claiming 10 lives; the *John B. Cowle*, with 14 lost; and the *SS Superior City*, the largest ship on the Great Lakes at its launch in 1898, which lost 29 crew.
The *Edmund Fitzgerald* itself was the largest freighter on the lakes when it was launched in 1958, measuring 729 feet long. It now rests broken into two large pieces nearly 17 miles from Whitefish Point at a depth of 530 feet.
Jim Beland, chief engineer on the freighter *John D. Leitch*, rang the bell for George J. Holl, the Fitzgerald’s chief engineer. Beland, who frequently passes the Shipwreck Coast, admitted, “We put the Fitzgerald out of our minds, to be frank. We just don’t really want to think about it.”
Friends and families alike rang the bell, faces contorted with grief, hands trembling, and tears freezing on their cheeks. Since the ship’s bell was salvaged in 1995, it has been rung every November 10—though never with as much attention or as many survivors present as this anniversary. The bell was rung 29 times Monday night, once more in honor of all sailors lost on Lake Superior, and once more for Gordon Lightfoot, who passed away in 2023.
Outside, the Whitefish Point Light Station—the oldest on Lake Superior—offered only occasional guidance as snow swirled, freezing rain spat, and whitecaps crashed relentlessly against the shore.
As family and friends departed the small museum into the bitter cold, a woman stopped to fish for a cigarette in her purse. The wind picked up again, smothering each attempt to light a flame. Smiling to herself, she sighed, tucked her hands into her pockets, and turned to gaze at the lake — a vast, dark, and untamed force, just as it was fifty years ago.
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*By [Author Name], Chicago Tribune*
Contact: [email protected]
https://www.chicagotribune.com/2025/11/11/a-ceremony-remembers-the-edmund-fitzgerald-50-years-later-gales-of-november-included/
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