Story Behind The Song

The songwriter was inspired by Gordon Lightfoot's classic, "Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald," and strove to write a story song about a real event. All the facts in the song are based on the actual historical account, right down to names, times, and sequence of events.

Song Description

Flight 19 is the Poster Child for the mystery surrounding the Bermuda Triangle. In December 1945, five U.S. Navy Avenger Torpedo Bombers left on a routine training mission on a sunny, Sunday afternoon. The flight was planned for under three hours, but something went terribly wrong. Over a desperate 6 hours, frantic, intermittent radio communications eventually faded to static as the five planes disappeared somewhere in the dark, stormy Atlantic.

Lyrics

Flight 19
Arthur Brueggeman 2007

Late in forty-five, they were glad to be alive,
The Allies had just won the Big One
Sailors and Marines, and their flying machines,
Had shot down the Risin' Sun
The Avenger flew with a three man crew,
'Twas a war bird second to none
A pilot, a gunner, and radioman,
A ton of bombs in her belly for fun

The war was behind 'em, but training would grind 'em,
That sunny Ft. Lauderdale day
The weather report cut their window short,
They were anxious to get underway
Five aircraft stood ready, but their leader was late,
Walking in he had little to say
Lt. Chuck Taylor had been turned down flat
When he asked not to fly that day

Three hours were planned, and with Taylor in command,
They lifted off just past two
East to Chicken Shoals over worsening seas,
To practice what they already knew
Mid-way through the mission, they lost their position,
Aloft above whitecaps and blue
A radio crackled, "We don't know where we are..."
Five aircraft were soon overdue

With four hours fuel and military cool
They would surely regain their bearings,
But they flew north and east instead of west,
Their voices tense and despairing.
They heard one pilot say, "The other way, dammit...
We're completely lost," said another
"All planes close in tight, and if land's not in sight,
We'll all go down together"

In the ink of night, no moon or starlight,
Nineteen was out of chances
With towering seas there were no guarantees,
Only grim circumstances
Made to fly, not to float, there was little hope
Out on the ocean's expanses
Never heard from again, only God knows when,
We'll know their happenstances

Now some blame Taylor for most of the failure,
For ignoring Navy procedure
Others say he's excused for being confused,
Life can be pretty strange in the ether
In that weird stretch of ocean, time moves in slow-motion,
Controlled as it is by the devil
Horizons are lost, dimensions are crossed,
And images aren't on the level

From south Florida northeast to Bermuda,
On down to Puerto Rico
The Devil's Triangle does the fandango
'Tween heaven and hell she rolls
Her islands beckon, always will I reckon,
Good ships and planes come and go, but
Dare enter her lair, you'd best be aware,
She's got plenty of room below

There's always more room below