The Ship That Won’t (Culturally) Stay Sunk: Part 1
Culturally, a freighter has resurfaced into the public consciousness - causing us to examine the Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald and the Internet’s Blue-Collar Nostalgia, Part 1
A Lake, a Legend, and a Dad’s Version of Approval
About two weeks ago, my boyfriend went on a salmon-fishing trip up in upstate New York, which left me with more free time to have dinner with my parents — and a flood of Snapchats from one of the Great Lakes, Lake Ontario.
From afar, and from the comfort of my phone screen, I could hear the strong winds and see the vastness of the lake I could have sworn was a sea — even catching a glimpse of the city of Toronto in the distance. It gave me plenty to talk about with my parents.
I described the scene, and was immediately peppered with questions about sport salmon fishing — a subject I had almost no answers for.
“He’s not fishing on Lake Erie, right?!” my dad asked, eyes narrowing after I described the Snapchats.
“No, salmon don’t live in lakes — at least not right now,” I replied, mostly unsure but confident enough in my half-knowledge.
“Good. You remember what almost happened to Uncle Ron—” my dad continued. He’s told me that story many times: how his brother narrowly escaped a brush with death by not going on a fishing trip on Lake Erie. Some of his friends had gone anyway. Their boat capsized in a terrible storm. Dad used the anecdote to always warn me about the dangers of the Great Lakes.
My mom chimed in with a verse from “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.”
“That song was about a ship going down in Lake Erie, wasn’t it?” she asked, before humming the next line.
“No, that one was a freighter that went down in Lake Superior, but Erie can get really bad too,” Dad corrected her.
Mom kept singing; Dad kept spinning cautionary tales about the Great Lakes — and confirming that my boyfriend was definitely not fishing anywhere near them this time of year. I guess that’s a dad’s way of saying he approves: if he’s invested in your boyfriend’s survival, that’s a kind of approval, right?
The Real “Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”
If you’re outside the Midwest or Midwest-adjacent world, the wreck of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald happened in 1975 on Lake Superior (as you’ve likely gathered by now) during a ferocious November storm.
No one knows exactly how the ship sank — there was never a mayday call. When searchers found her, she was resting in two pieces on the bottom of the lake. All 29 crew members were lost.
The story became legend because of Gordon Lightfoot’s haunting ballad, which turned a maritime tragedy into a working-class folk hymn that still gives people chills fifty years later.
The Edmund Fitzgerald Resurfaces — On My For You Page
Imagine my surprise — and slight unease — when, of all places, I heard The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald on Instagram.
It piqued my curiosity immediately, especially since it had just come up in conversation with my parents, but I had not realized that this year is also the 50th anniversary of the tragedy. I downloaded various reels and sent them to my dad, proud of my hyper-relevant algorithmic coincidence.
Then it began: the onslaught. I had officially nuked my algorithm.
Every other reel became about the Edmund Fitzgerald.
I genuinely want you to click on these and nuke your Instagram algorithm too — just to experience the eerie poetry of a freighter sinking in 1975 appearing between recipe videos and cat memes.
Fifty years after she went down in Lake Superior, the Edmund Fitzgerald has resurfaced — not from the depths, but on my For You Page.
Why the Edmund Fitzgerald Speaks to Us in 2025
What surprised me most wasn’t the content itself, but the engagement. These reels have tens of thousands of likes.
So what is it about this story that speaks to North American audiences right now?
What’s in the air — other than the crisp whisper of winter in the rustic leaves of fall — that makes those stalwart B major, F sharp minor, A major, and E major chords strike a chord with us again?
Is there something tangible shifting beneath the surface of our culture — a quiet recognition of blue-collar endurance, or maybe a longing for pride in reliable, grounded work and skilled craftsmanship?
Autumn Drives and Future Thoughts
Somewhere between those autumn drives to rural churches where I practice pipe organ while listening to Gordon Lightfoot, and the endless reels of freighters, I started forming a few theories about why this is resonating right now. Sure, the fiftieth anniversary of the tragedy helped spark the resurgence, but I think there is something deeper and more subconscious at work here…
You’ll have to read Part 2 for the answer.