Witch of November's Wrath

Great Lakes mariners fear the “Witch of November” Winds blow fiercely in the cruelest month of the year The crew of the Edmund Fitzgerald would concur If in November ’75, their ship hadn’t disappeared Capt. McSorley made his last radio call Saying the fully loaded ship was “holding its own” He had no clue as to what future events would befall The true danger of their voyage was unknown Very soon families heard that the ship had gone down Claiming the lives of all twenty-nine crew members The Mariners’ Church of Detroit’s bell gave the countdown One ring for each mate who was now Lake Superior’s Treacherous seas take the lives of many, good or bad And the crew reckoned their final fate with their God “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” left many sad Drowning was no better than a firing squad Above the ship the wicked witch cackled evilly Her victims now lying in watery graves Old tars now know better than to ignore fallibility It’s easy to be taken down by the wind and waves *For Francine’s “Write Me a Lightfoot Poem” contest Song: “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”