Passing through me and the iron made by Carnegie Steel

[michaelboy]

Almost every weekday for nearly 25 years, I walked approximately a mile along the same set of sidewalks and across the Monogahela River to and from my car. In all, I crossed the Smithfield Bridge more than ten-thousand times. As much as something material can be a part of someone, that bridge became a substantial part of me.



The span is a double-lenticular truss design and was built in 1883. I have newer photos of
the bridge but this one was taken from a postcard back in 1909 (when Pittsburgh had no ”h” at the end of its name). To this day, it looks pretty much the same, except for a few adornment differences and a major change in the skyline behind it. In the years that I crossed it, I’ve read: love hopes scribbled along its railing, stickers of racial hate pasted on its trusses, poorly-drawn or sprayed graffiti on any accessible flat spot. I’ve seen the remnants of weekend parties left along the walk: broken bottles, sprays of vomit, condoms and even lacy underwear.

But most of all, I remember all the people: kids skittering across in fear with parents, skaters, business folk, art students, lovers, gang members, tourists and homeless people. There was also a stream of ”regulars” - but none had lasted for the entire time that I worked downtown. Without purpose or justifiable reason, I often wanted to stop and talk with some of them, especially those exchanging smiles, but I was shy -- and besides, we really we had shared little more than the commonality of the walk and the bridge.

I miss that bridge.

Comments

[wayfaringwordhack]

Another example of places becoming part of us, their absences now-physical with the years' passing.

[ofearthandstars]

I loved the bridges of Pittsburgh, they are all very impressive. I can only imagine what it was like to walk them day-to-day - it sounds both frightening and lovely in the complicated way that humans are.

[serafaery]

<3 <3 <3

(Josh and his parents are from Pittsburgh, so are a couple of my most beloved human friends. I know nothing of the city other than I love these people, some of whom were neighbors of Mister Rogers.)