Five-time New York Times bestselling author. Cult hero of Michigan sports. Renowned historian and speaker. Townie. And now, with The Gales of November, a new book—praised by Ken Burns himself—on one of America’s most famous shipwrecks, John U. Bacon takes on the untold story of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald. Ann Arbor City Lifestyle caught up with the author to learn more about the “Titanic of the Great Lakes.”
John, tell us: What inspired you to write this book?
Like a lot of Michiganders, I grew up fascinated by the Great Lakes in general, and the Edmund Fitzgeraldin particular. I was 11 years old when the ship went down, and I still remember it—and the haunting feeling it gave me whenever I looked out across any of the Great Lakes. Once you’ve caught the bug, it’s hard to shake. I knew I wanted to tell people about the Great Lakes, and how important shipping is, but my main goal was to humanize the 29 men who went down with the ship.
The shipwreck has often been called the “Titanic of the Great Lakes,” as it was the largest and fastest vessel on the lakes at the time. With so many conflicting accounts and enduring mysteries surrounding the night of November 10, 1975—when all 29 crew members perished—what’s your take? In your view, how did this tragedy unfold?
I side with one of my experts, John Tanner, who told me, “It’s never just one thing that sinks a ship; it’s a series of events, like dominoes. And if you don’t stop the chain, they can start tumbling fast.”
It was everything, all at once: the worst storm in a century, generating 100 mph winds and kicking up 50-foot waves; poor forecasting and communications; mechanical failures on the Fitzgerald, including short and long radar breaking down; and some bad decisions and some well-meaning ones that backfired. But because the Fitzgerald’s sinking drew so much attention, they greatly improved forecasting, communication, and decision making, and there has not been one commercial shipwreck on the Great Lakes since, which is stunning.
Gordon Lightfoot’s haunting ballad memorialized the “wives, the sons, and the daughters left behind.” Your book goes even further, bringing to life the stories of the sailors and their loved ones. Did you know from the start that giving voice to these personal narratives would be central to the book?
That was my main goal, but I had no idea if I could achieve it. For that, fortunately, the families were willing to talk with me about their fathers, their uncles, their brothers, cousins, and in a couple cases their boyfriends. I was also lucky enough to find six men who had served on the Fitzgerald at some point, who knew the ship and the crew, and even one sailor who was on the Arthur M. Anderson, chasing the Fitzgerald that fateful night. I think he’s probably the last one left, and his insights are incredible. You won’t find their stories anywhere else, so I’m greatly appreciative. I think the readers will be, too.
Finally, if there’s one message you hope readers carry with them after turning the last page, what would it be?
Too hard to pick one, but I can give you a few: Experienced sailors will tell you the Great Lakes can be more dangerous than the oceans; we depend on Great Lakes shipping and sailors more than we think, if we think about them at all; and we’ll probably never know exactly what happened.
Bruce Hudson’s mom, Ruth, said it best. “Only 30 know what happened: 29 men and God.” And they’re not talking.
Learn more at johnubacon.com.
"I was 11 years old when the ship went down, and I still remember it—and the haunting feeling it gave me whenever I looked out across any of the Great Lakes."