A magnificent obsession

Over a year ago the world witnessed the collapse of the Key Bridge. As soon as I saw the replay of that tragedy something deep within my mind was ignited. Suddenly I found myself obsessed with the Key Bridge, and that obsession spread to bridges in general. My immediate feeling at the time was of loss, disbelief and a most intense sense of unease. This really surprised me, because I hardly had anything to do with this bridge. It was just that steep, scary looking river crossing in south Baltimore, and nothing more. Therefore, in my current thinking, my reaction must ultimately represent something beyond the Key Bridge. Thus far, I’ve not been able to determine any reason for this powerful reaction. There was of course the Key Bridge jumper, but I barely knew him. It’s possible that some answers might come from me being able to separate the bridge from those who jump to their deaths. Another factor was the intrusion of those nightmares about the Tampa Bay monster, the Sunshine Skyway Bridge. Those began not long after the Key Bridge collapse and were triggered by my viewing of drive-over videos of it. I have been able to get some closure with regards to the Skyway nightmares, at least when it comes to the possible jumper I saw last summer. I do believe that those nocturnal horror shows were leading me to make contact with the owner of the Skywaybridge.com site. I told him about what I saw, and he said that someone in his family had died by jumping from a freeway overpass into traffic. His replies to my two separate questions brought about some comfort and relief from the bad feelings I had been having.

But that doesn’t fully explain the fixation on bridge jumpers. First is the idea of the bridge itself. I have always had an interest in buildings, structures and architecture, especially from an artist’s point of view. There is, however, more to it than that. My curiosity had been piqued when it comes to how others regard these sometimes immense structures, and what they represent to those who cross them and live near them. When the Key Bridge fell, it was clear to me that others also had feelings of loss, shock and sadness. Presumably, though, most of these people had far more interaction with the monster of Baltimore’s harbor.

Bridges in general also have a great deal of symbolic meaning. This aspect is harder to tease apart from any sort of meaning of the Key Bridge itself. A bridge can serve as an entry point to some place, and they form essential parts of public infrastructure. If the bridge falls, people can become isolated on either side of the divide. Bridges can be liberating or confining, all at the same time. A bridge often provides a short cut on a journey, but for some it is a terrifying impediment to be avoided. Then there is the notion of making the crossing but being unable to ever return by the same route. The idea of “burning bridges” covers that symbolic scenario quite well. But there is also another, far darker association. The notion of crossing a bridge can also be seen as analogous to death, a final crossing from which no one ever returns. I think this is where the jumper ties in. People jump from other structures, but those generally lack the symbolic meaning of the bridge.

Then there there are those feelings of discomfort, unease and even occasional dread I have been faced with. I think that some of those feelings come from looking back on the past and seeing changes, including major ones. The Key Bridge, despite its sinister past, was still a stalwart sentinel of the harbor that was always present, day or night, rain or shine. Things have come and gone in my lifetime, and people I’ve known and have been close to have passed away. They have crossed a metaphorical bridge into the afterlife. Likewise, memories of them have crossed a chronological bridge into the past, one which (as far as can be scientifically determined) can never be returned across. The Key Bridge, and those who ended their lives by leaping from its heights, are somewhere on the other side of that chasm, forever buried in history. That creepy old dead tree that fascinated me as a kid succumbed to a March windstorm one day. I found that event to be rather disturbing, and I wished it had never fallen. There was nothing I could do to bring back that which was gone forever. Of course, time marches on, and change is inevitable. But sometimes it is what results from such change that is even more distressing. Once that tree fell, nothing replaced it, at least not immediately. That stand of trees still exists, a thick green carpet as seen from recent satellite images. In the forty some years since the old dead tree fell, surely another has had time to replace it.

And eventually something will eventually replace the Key Bridge. It will be another bridge, a bigger, badder and very different looking metal and concrete monster that will rise over Baltimore’s harbor in the future. Many people wanted the new bridge to be like the old one, especially in appearance. I felt the same way as well, but I know that practicality will always supersede aesthetics when it comes to these sorts of public works projects. Especially since time is of the essence to replace that which is missing. The curse of the cable-stayed bridge has spread across the world, and is unlikely to be stopped. It began in this country with the Tampa monster, It is a future that is radically different from the past, and in some ways no where near as good. And sometimes, just sometimes, that which replaces the past can go horribly wrong….