August 1, 2007 was a memorable day in my life, for all the wrong reasons. It was the day when the I-35W bridge spanning the Mississippi River in Minneapolis, Minnesota collapsed during rush hour traffic, killing 13 and injuring over a hundred. I was nowhere near the Twin Cities when it happened, but the tragedy affected me emotionally nevertheless.
In my youth, there were two main go-to destinations in my life. One was Duluth, Minnesota, just an hour away from where I grew up. I reserve a special place in my heart for Duluth to this day. Among the most physically beautiful cities I've ever been to, she was in my youth keeper of all the "big city" shopping mall action I could handle - Aladdin's Castle, Musicland, Orange Julius, Barnes and Noble, et cetera. Duluth had everything my hometown didn't have. The trick was finding a way there.
The other was Minneapolis. Any trip there meant something truly awesome was happening. I'm very familiar with I-35, which runs from the Twin Ports to the Twin Cities, where it splits into 35W, which runs through Minneapolis, and 35E, which wends its way through St. Paul. I rarely had any reason to go to St. Paul. Minneapolis was where it was at. I had crossed that 35W bridge countless times on my way to the airport, or Valley Fair, or the Mall of America, or the Metrodome or numerous points around or south of the Cities.
In my youth, there were two main go-to destinations in my life. One was Duluth, Minnesota, just an hour away from where I grew up. I reserve a special place in my heart for Duluth to this day. Among the most physically beautiful cities I've ever been to, she was in my youth keeper of all the "big city" shopping mall action I could handle - Aladdin's Castle, Musicland, Orange Julius, Barnes and Noble, et cetera. Duluth had everything my hometown didn't have. The trick was finding a way there.
The other was Minneapolis. Any trip there meant something truly awesome was happening. I'm very familiar with I-35, which runs from the Twin Ports to the Twin Cities, where it splits into 35W, which runs through Minneapolis, and 35E, which wends its way through St. Paul. I rarely had any reason to go to St. Paul. Minneapolis was where it was at. I had crossed that 35W bridge countless times on my way to the airport, or Valley Fair, or the Mall of America, or the Metrodome or numerous points around or south of the Cities.
That fact alone isn't significant, of course. In theory, we're all a hair's breadth away from tragedy at any given moment, so the number of times I drove over that bridge prior to its collapse doesn't mean anything. But there was something about crossing that particular span that always sent an anxious trill through my bones.
I don't mean in a clairvoyant way. I don't claim ever to have thought something would happen, no visions of the future, but I can in good conscience say something about it unnerved me. It was high, for starters, arching more than a hundred feet above a stretch of the Mississippi that seemed like a gaping maw, surrounded by a visually severe landscape - the big beautiful Minneapolis skyline on one side, and a lot of rough industry - with a power plant, and a dam - on the other. It was more exciting than intimidating I guess, but every time I crossed that bridge, I thought about it collapsing out from underneath me. Again, to be clear, I never thought it actually would, but the hypothetical notion would float through my mind, and so when it did, when I realized it was that bridge's demise being covered on the national news, I was left momentarily floored.
I don't mean in a clairvoyant way. I don't claim ever to have thought something would happen, no visions of the future, but I can in good conscience say something about it unnerved me. It was high, for starters, arching more than a hundred feet above a stretch of the Mississippi that seemed like a gaping maw, surrounded by a visually severe landscape - the big beautiful Minneapolis skyline on one side, and a lot of rough industry - with a power plant, and a dam - on the other. It was more exciting than intimidating I guess, but every time I crossed that bridge, I thought about it collapsing out from underneath me. Again, to be clear, I never thought it actually would, but the hypothetical notion would float through my mind, and so when it did, when I realized it was that bridge's demise being covered on the national news, I was left momentarily floored.
The other reason the tragedy affected me, is because I've always considered infrastructure to be a big deal. Our bridges should no more be collapsing out from under us - ever - than our drinking water should be tainted with lead or other poisons, and yet we are reminded time and time again when some unexpected-and-yet-really-no-surprise tragedy occurs that not nearly enough time or attention is being given to shoring it up. If it were, perhaps things like the I-35 bridge collapse, or the entirely outrageous Flint, Michigan water scandal (not to mention countless places across the country where people's tap water comes out flammable) might be avoided. Clear roadways to get around, potable water and electric power should in 2017 be considered basic human rights the world over.
A report earlier this year by the American Road and Transportation Builders Association found that over 50,000 bridges - many of them part of major roadways bearing huge traffic loads on a daily basis - are structurally deficient. The report stressed that "structurally deficient" doesn't mean collapse is imminent, only that problems have been detected that need or will eventually need repair, but it's unnerving just the same to think about that number: 50,000-plus bridges in this country all trembling - however slightly (and who knows how many are more than slightly) - under the weight of our need to get from one place to another on a daily basis, our reliance on big rigs moving product, our love of driving, of motion, of freedom, needing some kind of repair work. In the case of the I-35 Bridge, the sheer volume of
traffic it endured on a daily basis was staggering, and as early as 1990
(just 23 years after it was constructed) it had been labeled
"structurally deficient", and would again receive this
designation in 2005, two years before it came down.
How many of the 50,000 bridges noted in the ARTBA report currently have a cloudy history like that? One would be far too many.
It's especially frightening, considering I love driving over bridges. I have on numerous occasions driven out of my way just to be able to drive over a bridge, and the specific route I take on 1/48/50 will almost certainly be determined (partially, at least) by whether there's a bridge I can drive over.
Indulging this little driving kink should not be a matter of tempting fate.
How many of the 50,000 bridges noted in the ARTBA report currently have a cloudy history like that? One would be far too many.
It's especially frightening, considering I love driving over bridges. I have on numerous occasions driven out of my way just to be able to drive over a bridge, and the specific route I take on 1/48/50 will almost certainly be determined (partially, at least) by whether there's a bridge I can drive over.
Indulging this little driving kink should not be a matter of tempting fate.
