INSPIRATION

Bridges — Thank God Someone Was Good At Math

Because you don’t want to cross a bridge built by a Communications major!

It was 2010. We were in Vegas to see Bette Midler do her thing.

My partner Eddie’s childhood was full of waterskiing and boating memories along Lake Mead nearby and I wanted a glimpse for myself, so we took a quick side trip out of Sin City.

But as we arrived at Hoover Dam (an architectural marvel of its day), we were confronted by the sight of another architectural wonder taking shape before our eyes. Post 9–11 it was felt the highway atop the actual Hoover Dam was no longer a good idea, and hence, this mammoth project to divert the highway away from the dam.

Nothing makes you realize the sheer audacity of bridges until you see them being constructed before your eyes.

We’ve all benefited from the finished products, sure, but to stand below “the rim,” within the giant chasm they’re trying to cross, looking skyward and seeing the supports, the perfect arches, the steep drops, you have to just marvel at human ingenuity, at engineering, the calculations, and the sheer act of creation.

Cut to about six years later, on a return trip from Utah, we barreled right over the bridge that we’d once witnessed as just support pillars reaching for the sky. Didn’t even realize the Hoover Dam was down over the edge. The magic was gone and now it was just successfully fulfilling its function, an extension of the road in an epic travelogue.

Oh the trust we put in the people who build our bridges. Thank God someone was paying attention in math and science class. You certainly wouldn’t want to cross a bridge built by this theater and writing nerd.

Having grown up in Southwestern Pennsylvania, where three rivers converge, I was exposed to the City of Bridges, for Pittsburgh officially has 446 bridges, the most in the world, three more than even Venice, Italy.

Again, something you take for granted during rush hour, but when you get down by the water, when you walk across or beneath bridges, that’s where the true wonder and awe comes in.

My mother was born and raised in Pittsburgh and still resides there, yet it was fun to get her downtown for a riverside walk in her hometown a few years back, to truly marvel at those bridges.

Anytime I’m feeling down about the human race — and let’s face it, we all could provide an itemized list on the five hundred and ninety-eight ways in which humans suck — I go back to the human capacity to create.

Amazing art. An unforgettable piece of music that pierces the soul. A piece of filmmaking or a novel (or even a Medium article) that cuts to the core.

But also I point to architecture and to bridges. Be they utilitarian or artistically appointed, bridges are still such a marvel. If viewed from the right angle you might get nervous about crossing one ever again.

What are the math and physics involved to make that happen? you wonder. Sure we have computers now, but humans built bridges before Roman times and some of them are still standing — some of those aqueducts even have no mortar at all — just gravity and physics doing their thing.

During another trip to visit some of Eddie’s old haunts we journeyed to Yuma, Arizona and were confronted by the historic Ocean-to-Ocean Bridge, once the main artery taking Rt. 80 over the Colorado River and now open to standard street traffic and still glorious freight trains rumbling through.

Just think of all the bridges our freight trains cross, with all that weight, daily, to bring more junk we don’t need into our homes. Just another day in America. But whoa, the ingenuity involved in making it happen.

If you ever get the chance, take a boat ride under some of these magnificent bridges. I have yet to glide under the Golden Gate, but Michele Maize’s recent story -

reminded me that indeed I had once taken a ferry tour of the Port of Los Angeles and traveled beneath the Vincent Thomas Bridge. Some bridges are deep in industrial areas, but no less magnificent, and oh so important.

Again, there’s something about the view from underneath — that’s when you truly must stop to ponder humanity’s occasional accomplishments.

My final bridge memories were also from below, during a boat trip along the Thames in London. We were lucky enough to glide beneath the over-photographed and historic Tower Bridge — a wonderful memory. But an even better one occurred as we skirted under the super-thin newish Millennium Bridge when some friendly folks decided to be a part of my London photos forever.

In an ideal world, bridges do just that, they bridge the gap, they bring more opportunities for human interaction — hopefully for the better, but I guess that’s not always promised. But it speaks to that human curiosity of, why can’t I just cross over there?

Standing on one of the rims of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison or the Grand Canyon you can’t help but sigh and think, if only there were a bridge instead of having to drive all the way around.

But alas, some bits of nature look better without a bridge destroying the view, ending the wonder.

I sing the praises of the bright men and women of vision who built and build the tunnels and bridges and infrastructure. You are needed and I salute you. Because if I was responsible for building bridges, they’d look more like the rickety ones in Joel R. Dennstedt’s recent story, below. Eek!

I guess we writer-types will have to be content building bridges in other ways — bridges in communication, bridges in understanding.

They are just as important.

Cheers.

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