Bradley survivor Frank Mays passes at age 89
by Peter Jakey Managing Editor
Frank Mays, the last living survivor of the Carl D. Bradley, passed away in Florida Jan. 7 at the age of 89. Mays, a deck watchman on the Bradley and first mate Elmer Fleming were the only two out of the 35-member crew to survive the Nov. 18, 1958 tragedy.
The two clung to a life raft for 15 hours and eventually were rescued by the U.S. Coast Guard early the next morning. Twenty-three of the 33 crew members who died were from Rogers City, while five other sailors were from Onaway and Posen.In the face of pressure from U.S. Steel, Mays never changed his story about the Bradley breaking up on the surface. He told the Presque Isle County Advance/Onaway Outlook in 2008 that the biggest myth about the sinking is that it went down intact.
“No it broke. Don’t even use the word supposedly, that gets me offended,” said Mays during a 2008 interview.
“He devoted the latter years of his life to talking about the Bradley and everything that resulted from it,” said his son Mike Vogler of Rogers City. “He really lived that. He got pretty good at presenting the story all over the place. It is kind of amazing to me.”
Roger Hulett, Great Lakes Lore Maritime Museum (GLLMM) director and board president, wrote a book about Mays’ life called, “A Lot More To Do.” Hulett went on book signings with Mays, who wrote “If We Make it ‘till Daylight,” and remained in contact with his family.
“The guy was the epitome of health,” said Hulett. “He had certain things he did every day. He listened to soft rock music piped in through his house until 3 p.m.” He then would drink a 3-ounce glass of red wine. At five o’clock he would have a bottle of Miller High Life beer. “He did that forever and ever and ever. He ate small meals and walked four miles a day,” said Hulett.
Mays told Hulett that he threw his back out in 2020 and could not continue walking.
“Walking was a big part of his life,” Hulett continued. “You put the pieces together – he ended up not walking and doing the things that he normally does. He ended up with pneumonia and was in and out of a hospital. His children told me that’s what got him was pneumonia.”
“I figured out this morning that I knew Frank for 53 years,” said Mark Thompson, Presque Isle County Historical Museum curator/executive director. “Since I retired and started working at the museum Frank would usually stop in whenever he was in town. Both of us love to chat and even when he was busy running errands, he was usually good for an hour-long visit.”
Thompson said he met with Mays last fall and he looked well, “much younger than his actual age. As usual, he was in good humor.”
Mays, who lived in Dade City, Florida, rang the Bradley bell at the 50th anniversary event conducted at Rogers City High School (RCHS) and again for the 60th anniversary. He was part of the dive that brought the bell back from the wreck site leading up to the 50th anniversary.
“I had the honor of ringing it for the first time in 50 years,” Mays said after the ceremony. “We never rang it on the ship: it was more symbolic than anything. I did not know what the sound was going to be…when I pulled it, I pulled it kind of hard to make sure the sound would travel through the gymnasium.”
Mays started his watch on the Bradley at 4 p.m. that fateful day making his way to the pilothouse to see if they needed anything.
“Then I went aft along the deck and the sea was getting up,” Mays told his story to a group of RCHS civics class students in 2008.
After stops in the galley and engine room, he made his way forward through the tunnel “and I could see the old ship moving before my eyes. I went into the dunnage room, and that’s when I heard a bang.” He said it was the loudest noise he had ever heard.
“I looked aft along the portside and saw the stern of the Bradley swinging up and down just as your hand swings on your wrist at the end of your arm,” Mays said. He quickly went back to his cabin to get his life vest.
The ship was going down quickly, so he went portside to see if there was a good place to jump off and since there was not, he went to the starboard side. At that moment he said the bow went over and threw him into the lake. When he came up, remarkably, his hand caught the edge of the life raft. According to doctors, Mays and Fleming only had one-half hour of life left. Mays vowed to never sail on the Great Lakes again and kept his promise. When he did not side with U.S. Steel attorneys about what happened Nov. 18, 1958, he ended up working in a storehouse shuffling papers.
“I did that for one year. I never quit,” he said.
Mays went on to work for Bruski Lumber in Posen and then Medusa Cement in Charlevoix.
From Charlevoix he transferred to York, Pennsylvania and later transferred again to a cement plant in Florida before retiring from the company, but did not stay retired, taking a job as head of maintenance at a nursing home in Brookville, Florida where his wife worked. He retired for good at 68 and joined the Peace Corps.
“He
Mays traveled to 90 countries around the world.
“He was in Russia and China,” Hulett continued. “China was his favorite. He wanted to see the Great Wall of China. There are pictures of him on it in my book.”
Mays had planned to travel to Ireland with his daughter before the pandemic disrupted plans. He was planning to take that trip in 2021. The GLLMM is preparing to send out a tribute newsletter.
“One interesting thing about our relationship was that in all the years I knew him we never talked about the Bradley,” said Thompson. “I never asked, and he never offered. We did talk occasionally about working on the boats; usually funny stories about things that happened or people we both knew. I’m sorry to see him go. He was irreplaceable, and he will be missed.”