40 Years On, Family Memories Mark Edmund Fitzgerald Sinking

Forty years ago, the Edmund Fitzgerald sank in Lake Superior around 17 miles off the coast of Whitefish Point. All 29 crew members were lost, but their stories live on.

Family members and historians gathered in Duluth this past weekend to share memories and lessons from its fateful journey.

The Edmund Fitzgerald left Superior on November 9 for a steel mill in Detroit. The next morning, Jack Borgeson remembers his mother brushing his sister’s hair in front of the TV when news came on of the ship’s sinking.

“In the moment as I was arguing with my sister about one thing or another, we heard my mother scream,” said Borgeson. “The look of shock on her face. She just said, you know, ‘You lost your daddy.’”

His father was Thomas Dale Borgeson, a member of the Fitzgerald maintenance crew. Pam Johnson also lost her father, Robert Rafferty, who was a fill-in cook. She remembers her father didn’t want to leave on what would be his final trip.

“Actually, he asked to be taken off. Red Bergner was the cook on there for 10 years,” said Johnson. “They called Red and said, ‘Would you like to come back?’ And he said, ‘Oh no.’ He used other language and said, ‘I’m not going back on there, I’m pulling rank. Rafferty’s already on there. Let him finish it off.’ It’s not that he wanted to. It was just he’s making a living for his family.”

Maritime historian and author Fred Stonehouse said sailing is just a job for many, like the ship’s 29 crewmen. But it;s a dangerous one. According to Stonehouse, approximately 7,500 ships have sunk in the Great Lakes, taking 30,000 lives with them.

“As we watch these vessels leave the harbor here and heading out through the canal, we need to recognize that. It’s not just when the gales of November are here,” he said, referencing the refrain from the Gordon Lightfoot song immortalizing the disaster. “It literally is all of the time. The danger is always there and fate is always the hunter.”

It’s a danger, Stonehouse said, Bernie Cooper was keenly aware of that night in 1975. Cooper was the captain of the Arthur M. Anderson, the last ship to have contact with the Fitzgerald and the first on the scene to search for survivors.

“When (Cooper) told his crew, one of the assistant cooks came into the pilothouse and said, ‘Cap, are we really going to go?’” Stonehouse said. “‘Yup, we’re going to go.’ ‘Alright, I’ll be back in 10 minutes.’ Fellow would come back 10 minutes later with a mayonnaise jar, and in that mayonnaise jar was a cassette tape. There were 2,000 wraps of masking tape to make it waterproof. He gave it to Cooper and he said, ‘Cap, if it looks like we’re going down, would you throw this overboard? This is my last will.’ That was the thought that a lot of those guys had as Anderson went back out to look.”

The Anderson wasn’t the only ship to brave high winds and waves up to 30 feet or more. Historian and Great Lakes shipwreck diver Ric Mixter credits the crew of the coast guard vessel Woodrush for heading into the storm to rescue any survivors.

“The people that boarded the Woodrush here to sail all the way across Lake Superior to pick up who could’ve survived that tragedy there — these people stand on guard today in airplanes and ships. People that jump into that icy, cold water to save them — I think more about those people who dedicate themselves to those that will protect those sailors that make those choices,” said Mixter.

The first time Pam Johnson ever saw Lake Superior, she said she was impressed with its size and beauty and the connection she felt to her father.

“He was just 17 miles away. People ask how do I feel about seeing the lake and I try not to go to an ugly place in my mind,” Johnson said. “I want to believe that my father is laying in his bed and he’s all warm and the blankets are over him and he’s with God now. Him sleeping in bed just makes it alright with me.”

Now, 40 years later, the Edmund Fitzgerald remains a legend and a symbol of all the shipwrecks and crew members who have lost their lives on the Great Lakes.