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.

It was 30 years ago today that the Edmund Fitzgerald sank in Lake Superior, one of the great mysteries of the 20th century. No one knows precisely how the ship sank, but we know where it lies now.

I have to admit that the song is one of my guilty pleasures- so much so that I'm working on a slow metal version of it, although I think a punk rock version would be far superior, no pun intended. I also like to sing it to my mother, after the incident on her lake about 2 years ago, when she skuttled her pontoon boat, with me and my stepfather on it, on some rocks.

Just something to think about.