From The Editor’s Desk: Embracing The Midwest

An all-important date marker passed by this past weekend. Nov. 10 marked the 49th anniversary of the sinking of the SS Edmund Fitzgerald beneath the crashing waves of Lake Superior. 

Since moving to Chicago, I’ve adopted the annual traditions shared by some meditative Midwesterners that honor the 29 crew members who went down with the ship on that stormy November night. 

Between spending time looking somberly out into the Great Lakes’ expanse and repeatedly spinning Gordon Lightfoot’s seminal folk rock ballad “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” I’ve come to realize this freighter-inspired phenomenon is Midwestern culture at its peak.

After dusting off a copy of Lightfoot’s Fitzgerald-laden album “Summertime Dream” I was overcome with a sense of pride — however unconventional its source — for my adopted region. 

While I’m not from the Midwest originally, something about the Great Lakes region has gotten to me, despite having lived all over the country. Between euchre, butter cows and drawn out A’s, I’ve been charmed by the particularities of the plains. 

One thing I’ve been struck by is the pride Midwesterners have for their home states — particularly Ohioans and Michiganders who are locked in a death struggle of mediocrity rooting back to the Toledo War of 1835. I know this to be true because writing the previous sentence lit a fuse in our newsroom.

I’m sold on the Rust Belt more and more by the day. With any national pride I had left being seriously tested over this past week, Midwestern pride might be just what I need to fill the void. 

It may just be the majesty of the lakes — I get really excited whenever there’s a barge passing by — or whatever it is they put in Spotted Cows, but something about the Midwest has made it uniquely easy to adapt to. 

So put some brats on the grill, deep fry some cheese and turn to the BIG 10 network, because America’s heartland has stolen mine. 

Ope, let me squeeze right past ‘ya ‘der.