Opinion: The Manatee-Sarasota connections to the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

The winds hit 60 mph, the waves reached 25 feet, and the water was barely above freezing. It's hard to fathom a storm strong enough to bring down a ship the size of the Edmund Fitzgerald, yet it happened on Lake Superior in 1975.

The 48^th anniversary of the famous, mysterious, and controversial sinking was Friday, and among the 29 souls aboard the 759-foot vessel was a man from Bradenton. His name was John Poviach.

Not much is known about Poviach, who was listed as a "Wheelsman" aboard the vessel. He was born in Bradenton on June 6, 1916, and died at age 59 in an "ice water mansion," as the late Gordon Lightfoot described Lake Superior in his famous song "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald."

Poviach's wife Mary died in 2001 in Kentucky. Her obituary mentioned she was a cashier at "Publix supermarket of Lakeland, Florida." That may have simply been a reference to the location of Publix's headquarters. If so, that would leave open the possibility she worked here locally, and that the couple resided in Bradenton at the time the Fitzgerald went down.

Bradenton should honor Poviach in some fashion. It's hard to believe it hasn't happened already. Put up a plaque. Have a day in his honor. Mention him at a County Commission meeting. Do something. Only the Titanic is a more famous shipwreck.

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The Edmund Fitzgerald left Superior, Wisc. bound for Detroit loaded with taconite pellets. It sank near Whitefish Bay in Canadian waters, settling in 530 feet of water, broken in two. Measuring 730 feet in length, it remains the largest vessel to sink on the Great Lakes. Despite numerous studies, the cause remains a mystery. She may have been swamped by three massive "sister" waves in a row, suffered structural damage, scraped bottom on a shoal, or any combination.

I grew up on Lake Superior and was 9 years old when the Fitzgerald sank. I remember it well. Superior, Wis. where the Fitzgerald left on that fateful day, is right next to Duluth, Minn., where I grew up.

Lake Superior has always haunted me. It is deep, dark, and cold, the water looking like motor oil when it gets rough. There has been ice on that lake on my birthday, which is in June. I have had nightmares about it as an adult. I am in the middle of the lake surrounded by a bright light. Not sure what that's about, but to be on the Fitzgerald minutes before she sank is unimaginable.

I feel a connection to the wreck and still talk to my childhood friends about it.

My father operated the Aerial Lift Bridge in Duluth in the early 1970s. The bridge goes up and down, allowing the big Lakers to enter and leave the Twin Ports of Duluth-Superior. There is a strong likelihood that my dad, at some point, spoke to Capt. Earnest McSorley via radio as the Edmund Fitzgerald went under the bridge on her way southbound on Lake Superior.

I once found a wooden model of the Edmund Fitzgerald at the Red Barn Flea Market in Bradenton, and it's been on a shelf in my bedroom for the last 15 years, right next to a picture of me and my wife standing next to the old Split Rock Lighthouse on Lake Superior.

Each year on Nov. 10, at 4:30 p.m., the names of the crew are read, a bell is rung and the lighthouse is illuminated on the water.

Even my dog is connected, though it's a coincidence. His name is Arthur (Anderson), the same name as the last ship to make radio contact with the Fitzgerald. "We're holding our own," were Capt. McSorley's last words to Arthur Anderson before she sank. The Arthur Anderson was only 10 miles behind and heroically went back and searched for the vessel after she sank.

The story of the Edmund Fitzgerald was well-known to all who lived on the Great Lakes in the 1970s, but it became famous nationally because of Gordon Lightfoot's song.

Among the lyrics were:

"When suppertime came the old cook came on deck, sayin' 'fellas it's too rough to feed ya.'

"At seven p.m.  a main hatchway caved in, he said 'fellas it's been good to know ya.'"

Here's another local connection: A man named DuWayne Schoeneck was supposed to be the cook on the Fitzgerald for that trip, but was late getting off another ship and was replaced at the last minute.

Schoeneck lived many years in Englewood, where he died in 2018 at 97.

As for Poviach, the wheelsman on the Edmund Fitzgerald from Bradenton not much is known about him, though he is not forgotten either.

On a website called Find a Grave, 582 people have sent "flowers" to his page over the years, some as recently as Thursday.

In 2020, a man wrote, "John Poviach is fondly remembered as a fine gentleman I had sailed with on the Edmund Fitzgerald in 1969."

The day before that post came another from an anonymous person: "We will never forget. We will always mourn."

This article originally appeared on Sarasota Herald-Tribune: Bradenton and Englewood tied to the legend of the Edmund Fitzgerald