Retrospective: Ten months on…
It has been almost ten months since I started this journal, not long after the fall of the Francis Scott Key Bridge. Along the way I have documented various challenges I have faced, some of which I had chosen to undertake and others that were foisted upon me. Some questions that I had were finally resolved, but somehow the answer as to whatever sparked this obsession still remains a mystery. Once I saw that tragic scene of the bridge crumbling into the river replayed the morning after the collapse, something deep within my mind was ignited. I was overwhelmed with a sense of loss, disbelief and a very intense feeling of unease that would not subside. These feelings surprised me, since I had hardly anything to do with this bridge. The Key Bridge was simply that intimidating and fearful looking stretch of road that lurked somewhere in south Baltimore and nothing more. As of yet I have no clue as to why that event triggered such a powerful reaction in me. There have been other places and things that have vanished from my past but none of those losses had this sort of impact on me. Many people I’ve known have passed away as well, and all of that brings about sadness, disappointment, and for happy memories, nostalgia. But how could I miss something for which I had very little familiarity? The sense of unease and discomfort is also hard to explain, as I rarely ever have occasion to cross a large and potentially vulnerable bridge like that one. It is understandable that people who had frequent interactions with the Key Bridge would miss it, and mourn its passing. But that wasn’t my experience at all.
My thinking is shifting to the idea that the Key Bridge, and likely other bridges in general, represent something to me. But what? Then there is also the jumper aspect of this mystery. The demise of the Key Bridge jumper was horrifying, but he was only one person out of many I’ve met or known in my life to have perished unexpectedly. And he wasn’t the only one to take his own life. At this point I don’t know if it is possible to separate these two sides of what appears to be the same coin. There are bridges, and those who make use of them to end their lives. I never used to associate bridges with jumpers, with the exception of the Key Bridge. When I lived in California, I took a drive across the Golden Gate Bridge, blissfully unaware of the well deserved sinister reputation of the reddish-orange iron monster beneath my wheels. All I noticed was that I was driving across a very famous, historical and picturesque landmark that is an engineering wonder of the modern world. And, like most other tourists, I snapped a few pictures here and there. I also took pictures of the bridge in Savannah to document its weird and unusual form, but the idea of someone doing the unthinkable from the top of its span never came to mind.
In reality there are several factors here that I can identify. One, obviously, is the bridge and whatever it represents. The second aspect is the jumper and the association of death with bridges. The third aspect is those who take their own lives, and finally, the last is the idea and act of jumping from a great height (and the terror, or thrill, as the case may be, that follows). Before the fall of the Key Bridge, I always thought it was neat to see and cross a huge bridge and to take in the view at the top. While I still experience such emotions these days, they are of course tempered with other thoughts. In general, a bridge is a shortcut, a way to bypass some geographical feature that can be difficult to navigate. It can also represent change, as so many places would be nothing like they are today if not for a bridge to connect a poorly accessed location to a main thoroughfare. But a bridge can also be a hindrance in some cases and to some people. Sometimes such a span might be the only way to access a certain location without traveling by boat or plane. If the bridge collapses, people are trapped on either side, preventing them from traveling back and forth. If that cargo ship that hit the Key Bridge had instead plowed into the Bay Bridge, that would have put a whole lot of hurt on vastly more people, not just in the city but the entire state. And those who fear crossing bridges cannot be left out. They are barred, by the phobia from which they suffer, from crossing and therefore must seek out alternate and far less efficient routes.
Then there is the dark side – the jumpers and the association of bridges with death. My proximity to the Key Bridge jumper hardly seems enough to be meaningful in this context. Before the collapse, the idea of someone jumping off of a bridge to end their life was something that might be found in dramatic scene in a movie or tv show. The idea of it happening in real life seldom ever came to my mind, even after the Key Bridge jumper. He was an anomaly, an unfortunate young man who forever sullied that structure with his blood and death. Intimately related to this jumper aspect is the idea of self destruction, with or without the use of a bridge.
Again, I’ve only barely known two people who died in this way. However, I did see what I thought might have been someone thinking about jumping off of an overpass into traffic last summer. I think that was partly the source of those nightmares I was having about the Tampa Skyway monster, which weren’t actually about the bridge itself but rather that website dedicated to its dark history. The nightmares seem to have vanished and that the image of that potential jumper no longer haunts me as it once did. That last dream I had about meeting the owner of that site and being given two scrolls lead me to contact that person. And when I did, I received replies to two separate emails which put my mind at ease and helped relieve my inability to get that disturbing memory out of my everyday thoughts. The scrolls were his messages to me, but they crumbled away in the dream because I needed to contact him in real life in order to receive these answers. So at least that particular issue having to do with the jumpers has been partly dealt with already.
Here is a link to that particular page on that site if you want to see what I wrote and the replies I received:
The final consideration here is an act which may or may not have anything to do with a bridge, and is associated not with tragedy but rather thrill and enjoyment. This is the action of jumping off of something in order to dive into water, bungee jump or parachute. I have developed a fascination for such activities fairly recently, despite the fact that this time last year I would have blanched at the very thought of jumping off of anything. My love for roller coasters did not translate into much more extreme thrills. When I was younger, I couldn’t even jump off of a diving board. Years ago I was on vacation somewhere and the hotel had a huge pool with a high and low diving board. As I recall, I went up on the higher board, which was maybe ten or fifteen feet above the water as I had planned to jump. I don’t remember all of what happened, whether I was able to jump or not. All I remember is being afraid. It didn’t look that bad, that was, until I got up there… Therefore, this whole bridge thing has stimulated in me a desire to jump. Not off of a diving board, because I have neither the training or experience to do that, but bungee jumping looks like a good choice. BASE jumping is a bit risky, so I’d probably not want to do that. But where all of this fits into the whole, I have no idea as of yet. Bridges + jumpers (and people in general) who want to die + jumpers who want to have fun and live life to the fullest = ?