LANSING, Mich. (AP) — On November 10, 1975, Associated Press reporter Harry Atkins found himself far from Lake Superior when tragedy struck the Great Lakes. His coverage the following day of the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald played a crucial role in shaping the ship's legacy and the public's memory of the disaster.

Atkins, now 86 and residing in Savannah, Georgia, was working as a news reporter in Detroit at the time. He was dispatched to Michigan's Upper Peninsula to cover the ill-fated freighter, which sank during a ferocious storm while transporting iron ore from Wisconsin to Zug Island in Detroit. The tragedy resulted in the loss of all 29 crew members, and the precise circumstances of the wreck continue to remain unclear.

The Fitzgerald is noted as the last major shipwreck in the Great Lakes, following significant technological advancements in maritime safety that emerged after the disaster. The wreck gained widespread notoriety, immortalized by Gordon Lightfoot’s folk ballad, which keeps the memory of the tragedy alive in the public consciousness.

Lightfoot crafted his tribute to the Fitzgerald by drawing inspiration from Atkins' initial report and a subsequent article published in Newsweek on November 24, 1975. The song debuted less than a year after the tragic event in August 1976.

In honor of the 50th anniversary of the wreck, family members and maritime enthusiasts are set to gather on Monday. Ahead of this anniversary, Atkins shared his recollections of that fateful day in a recent interview with the Associated Press.

Atkins explained that he first learned of the wreck while working at the AP Detroit broadcast desk. The alarm was raised by a local resident in Whitefish Bay. Described by Atkins as an “old hermit,” the individual was tuned into radio communications from ships out at sea and relayed information regarding the Fitzgerald's distress.

The last transmission from the Fitzgerald was sent to the nearby vessel, Arthur Anderson. The ship's captain communicated, "We are holding our own," just moments before it vanished beneath the frigid waters.

Understanding the urgency of the situation, Atkins quickly drafted a story about the distress call. He then drove overnight to Sault Ste. Marie, located about 347 miles (559 kilometers) north of Detroit. He set up at the Sault Ste. Marie Evening News, which had previously disseminated the distress signals to the Detroit bureau.

“I got the Yellow Pages,” Atkins recounted, “and started looking for an airplane.” He located a retired Navy pilot who could fly him over Whitefish Bay in a small aircraft.

Once airborne, Atkins and a photographer witnessed a chaotic scene over Whitefish Bay. They spotted two freighters, two U.S. Coast Guard boats, and another vessel, all aligned in a manner reminiscent of the Chrysler star, indicating the search area for the Fitzgerald's wreckage.

From the sky, Atkins noted spotting a life raft and a life vest, but tragically, no bodies of the crew were ever recovered. The Fitzgerald still rests approximately 535 feet (165 meters) underwater, situated about 17 miles (27 kilometers) north-northwest of Whitefish Point, Michigan. To this day, the wreck site is protected as a gravesite under Canadian law.

Upon returning to land, Atkins promptly reached out to his colleagues in Detroit, conveying his written account that would break the news of the disaster. His report opened with a compelling lead: “Rescuers searched Lake Superior's chilly waters Tuesday for the 29-member crew of the sunken ore-carrier Edmund Fitzgerald but found only an oil slick, empty lifeboats, and life jackets.”

Atkins, who later became a prominent sports journalist for the AP in Michigan, occasionally heard Lightfoot's haunting ballad in the years that followed. Reflecting on the emotional impact of the song, Atkins admitted, “It’s a haunting ballad. I get choked up every time.” However, it wasn’t until 25 years after the event that he comprehended the magnitude of the shipwreck's legacy, prompted by anniversary news coverage.

Atkins' recollections provide a poignant reminder of the day when 29 lives were lost, echoing the somber reality of the tragedy that unfolded beneath the tumultuous waters of Lake Superior.