Before my arrival in Duluth, my only connection to the Minnesota town was through a television ad for Duluth Trading Company’s Buck Naked Underwear. Little did I know, the port city along the western edge of Lake Superior shared a deep grief over a shipping tragedy.
As I sat in the sole library in Duluth’s twin city of Superior, Wisconsin, my eyes fell upon a mural depicting a Great Lakes freighter locked in a fierce battle with surging swells. Waves crashed high above the ship’s waterline—one exploded against the forward hull, another reached deck level. Mesmerized by the drama, I noticed a name painted along the hull: Edmond Fitzgerald.
In that instant, I recalled the tragic tale immortalized by singer-songwriter Gordon Lightfoot–it climbed the music charts in 1976. His ballad, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” tells the story of a lake freighter that set sail from this twin harbor carrying twenty-six thousand tons of iron ore, only to meet the witch of November during a dreadful storm and sank with all twenty-nine souls.
The next day, I boarded the Vista Star for a sightseeing cruise of the Duluth-Superior harbor. As we glided along, the narrator pointed out the Arthur M. Anderson, a large lake freighter passing our starboard side. To my surprise, its long deck, forward pilot house, and aft engine cabins bore a striking resemblance to the Edmund Fitzgerald. But the resemblance went deeper.
On that fateful day, the Fitzgerald had left the Duluth-Superior harbor, followed shortly by the Anderson setting sail from nearby Two Harbors, Minnesota. Both ships steamed along a similar route laden with ore when the Fitzgerald sailed into a severe storm and met a tragic end. The Anderson reported the loss and was the first rescue ship on scene.
Three weeks later, I embarked on a narrated tour of the Milwaukee Central Library. As I wandered through its majestic limestone halls, I came across a detailed model of the Edmund Fitzgerald showcased in a special collection.
The serendipity of these interconnected events left me pondering life’s coincidences. If I hadn’t visited the Superior library, I would have missed the captivating mural. Had it not been for a helpful librarian’s suggestion, I wouldn’t have taken the harbor tour and encountered the Arthur M. Anderson. And but for the Milwaukee library, I wouldn’t have stumbled upon the model of the Edmund Fitzgerald.
It all left me marveling at the intricate connections that weave through our lives and how travel can serve as a conduit for memorable experiences.