“Shipwrecked and Rescued” a tale of bravery in the U.P.’s worst weather

LARRY JORGENSEN first became fascinated with Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and its unique history while writing and reporting for television news in Green Bay. However, his journey into that world of news had begun much earlier in northern Wisconsin where he worked while in high school for the weekly newspaper in Eagle River. Later he was employed by a newspaper publisher in Milwaukee, and then on to radio and television news in Texas and Louisiana, along with wire service and freelance assignments. During all those years he looked forward to return visits to the Keweenaw Peninsula. It was during one of those visits Larry discovered the tale of the wreck of the “City of Bangor”. It was learning of that little-known event that resulted in his decision to create this written account that he hoped to share the story of one of Lake Superior’s most unusual shipwrecks.

“Had not the lifesaving crew from Eagle Harbor happened to see the crew struggling on shore while they were on their way to another rescue; had not the crew had the stamina to continue their 36-hour struggle from the place where they ran aground several miles east of Copper Harbor; had not the people of Copper Harbor, especially the Berg family (who had little enough food for the winter) shared their home and provisions with the starving, hypothermic crew, the death rate could have been catastrophic.
Also in vivid detail, we read the story of how the cars were salvaged and removed from the ship due to the efforts of many people throughout the Keweenaw Peninsula to plow a road where there wasn’t one, to transport gasoline to the cars, drive them several at a time to Copper Harbor, open the road to Calumet working from both ends, drive the cars to Calumet to be loaded on a train back to Chrysler for repairs and restoration, all of which took several months. The fact that there were no deaths and almost all the vehicles were rescued, makes this particular shipwreck one of the most unique in the annals of Lake Superior. ”
— Read the full review on U.P. Book Review.

Shipwrecked and Rescued: The City of Bangor and the Keweenaw Miracle

One of Lake Superior’s most unusual shipwreck stories is not only about a vessel lost to ice and wind. It is about 29 men, 227—or so—brand new Chryslers, and a remote peninsula that mobilized in ways big and small to bring them all home. The tale begins in late November 1926 and winds through whiteouts, lifeboats, makeshift snow vehicles, and a community that refused to let people or property be left behind.

Why this wreck stands out

Shipwrecks on the Great Lakes are sadly common; the Lakes have claimed thousands of vessels over the centuries. What makes the story of the City of Bangor remarkable is the combination of a dramatic survival story and the extraordinary salvage that followed. The event ties maritime history to automotive history and to the stubborn spirit of the Keweenaw Peninsula.

Background: a car hauler on Lake Superior

The City of Bangor was a converted car carrier. Built originally as a cargo ship, she had been adapted to transport automobiles—an increasingly important role as the auto industry boomed. In November 1926 she left Detroit loaded with nearly 240 brand‑new 1927 Chryslers bound for Duluth, where anxious dealers awaited the shiny cars.

The storm that changed everything

A November gale on Lake Superior turned catastrophic. The captain later described the storm as one of the fiercest he had ever faced. The ship lost complete steering control when the rudder failed, and heavy seas drove her onto a reef off Copper Harbor in the Keweenaw Peninsula.

The crew rode out the worst of the night on the stranded vessel, sheltering by the ship’s galley to stay warm until a big wave toppled the stove and cut off their heat source. When conditions permitted, a lifeboat was launched and several men reached shore. The lifeboat then became a crucial ferry, hauling crewmembers back and forth until everyone was ashore.

The walk to safety—and how a compass error almost doomed them

In the confusion of the storm the captain believed he saw Brockway Mountain and concluded they were west of Copper Harbor. The crew began walking east toward the lighthouse, actually heading away from safety because the wreck lay east of Copper Harbor. Only after several hours did they discover the mistake, turn around, and trudge back into brutal weather.

Snow drifts rose to chest height in places, clothing was wholly inadequate—some men had loafers on—and morale sagged. Progress became a matter of will and luck.

The official rescue: Coast Guard and community response

A separate grounding nearby put a different crew in peril; two of that crew walked six miles in the storm to reach telephones and alert the Eagle Harbor life‑saving station. The Coast Guard launched a rescue mission that first took survivors of that second wreck to Copper Harbor. On the way back the Coast Guard spotted a handful of the City of Bangor crew struggling in a bay and arranged for the rest to be picked up.

Copper Harbor in 1926 had only a few dozen year‑round residents. There were almost no hotels or formal accommodations. The Berg family opened their doors and emptied their larders to feed and warm the survivors. People who could offer medicines, shelter, sleighs, or muscle pitched in. A doctor from Laurium was snow‑trailed in on an experimental tracked vehicle to deliver emergency care, and others were evacuated by sleigh to hospital.

“It was ham and eggs and it was the best meal he’d ever had.”

That simple recollection—one crewman’s memory of the first hot meal after the storm—captures the human heart of the rescue. The Bergs’ kindness left a lasting impression: a grateful second mate later sent a Christmas card thanking them for saving the crew.

From wreck to salvage: getting the cars back

Walter Chrysler wanted his cars recovered. The insurance inspector had labeled the City of Bangor a total loss, but the dealer and manufacturer were determined to salvage the automobiles. A salvage company was contracted with the promise of payment per car recovered.

First, a guard station was established to protect the property. Then, as winter sealed Lake Superior with ice, salvors built a ramp from the grounded ship down to the frozen reef. Men went to work shoveling ice and snow off hoods and running boards, pulling vehicles up ramps and onto the ice. Many cars on the lower decks were water‑damaged, but the bulk of the load could be freed.

Moving the cars to Copper Harbor was not a single smooth convoy. Batteries were stolen from functioning cars to start others. Cars were driven along the frozen shore where possible and ferried to safer ground where the ice would bear them. Still, a portion of the cargo did not survive: roughly 13 cars were lost overboard during the storm.

Clearing the road: ingenuity in deep snow

With hundreds of automobiles now in Copper Harbor and no railhead nearby, the community faced the challenge of getting the cars to Calumet to be loaded on trains for Detroit. County crews worked for weeks to open a road through drifts that reached eight to ten feet in places.

An experimental turbine snowplow borrowed from Minnesota finally broke the trail where ordinary plows failed. With fuel hauled in by sleigh and a line of cars waiting, the salvage company paid drivers a small wage—about five dollars at the time—to pilot the cars from Copper Harbor to Calumet. Some drivers were eager youth who hopped the road for the cash and the thrill; some cars never left the peninsula and became local treasures.

A car that stayed: the Saric Chrysler and the museum

One Chrysler definitely remained in the Keweenaw. Purchased by the Saric family, it was driven, celebrated, and meticulously maintained. Over decades that car logged more than 300,000 miles, survived state safety inspections, passed through generations, and eventually found its way into the care of local historical stewards.

The Eagle Harbor Lighthouse Museum now displays that Chrysler along with artifacts from the ship: the captain’s desk, his jacket, photographs taken by the Coast Guard captain who documented the rescue, and the ship’s log—although the last page is mysteriously missing. That final page likely would have held the complete inventory of cars on board, a detail lost to history.

Final fate of the City of Bangor

The wreck sat on the reef for nearly two decades. A postwar demand for scrap steel provided the incentive to salvage what remained. Cutting, blasting, and hauling gradually reduced the hull to pieces that were shipped off for wartime production. Some opportunists even mounted moonlight operations to recover additional metal. Small fragments continue to wash ashore during storms and some are now part of the museum collection.

What this story teaches

• Community matters: A handful of residents and rescuers saved dozens of lives with nothing more than courage, food, and a warm stove.
• Ingenuity wins: From improvised ramps to a borrowed turbine plow to battery‑swapping, creative problem solving made salvage possible in extreme conditions.
• History crosses categories: The incident sits at the intersection of maritime history, early automotive distribution, and rural resilience—hence its appeal to both shipwreck enthusiasts and vintage‑car collectors.

“It took a peninsula to create the amazing story of the City of Bangor.”

Where to go if you want to see it

The Eagle Harbor Lighthouse Museum preserves the car and several artifacts from the City of Bangor. The display includes photographs, the captain’s desk, and the ship’s log (missing its last page). Visiting the Keweenaw in summer offers the best chance to see these pieces and to stand on the shoreline near where the wreck once rode the reef.

Closing thought

The City of Bangor story is more than a maritime curiosity. It is a portrait of how a small, rugged community met sudden crisis and turned it into a long list of rescued people, salvaged property, and local legends. The event is a reminder that human kindness, practical ingenuity, and a stubborn refusal to give up can leave a legacy as durable as steel.

More information about the U.P. Notable Book list, U.P. Book Review, and UPPAA can be found on www.UPNotable.com

About the Upper Peninsula Publishers and Authors Association (UPPAA)

Established in 1998 to support authors and publishers who live in or write about Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, UPPAA is a Michigan nonprofit association with over 100 members, many of whose books are featured on the organization’s website at www.uppaa.org. UPPAA welcomes membership and participation from anyone with a UP connection who is interested in writing.