You don’t know what you have until it is gone…
There is an old saying that probably most people have heard before. “The good that men do dies with them, but the evil lives on and on…” or something to that effect. This of course reflects the human tendency to remember negative things far more intensely than neutral, or perhaps even joyous things. And it seems as time passes, the negatives often become even more entrenched. But there is also yet another rather contradictory way of expounding upon fond memories of the past once the person, thing, or situation in question no longer exists. Yesterday in my news feed there were yet even more stories about a such thing that has been missing for a year now. That thing is of course the Francis Scott Key Bridge. Some stories and interviews recounted scary accounts of creaking, shifting metal and rescuers diving sight unseen into frigid black waters to search for victims. But there were lots of other accounts, mostly from those who lived and/or worked nearby, who waxed quite fondly on their memories of the bridge. This also brings to mind yet another more common saying – “you don’t know what you have until it is gone”. Perhaps there were some who took the iron monster for granted and now suffer from the effects of increased traffic, long commutes, and being cut off from locations that were once easily accessed. Truck drivers whose routes frequent that area surely are missing the monster, as their working days are much longer. And there were also some who actually came out and said they enjoyed crossing the bridge for various reasons. A few said it reminded them that they were “almost home”, while others liked to take in the view of the city skyline. One man mentioned that his home is only about one thousand feet away from the bridge, and it has been his familiar “next door neighbor” of sorts for many years. But he says that he misses seeing it, and of course also being able to cross the river at that location.
https://wtop.com/baltimore/2025/03/hfr-thu-am-he-was-driving-one-of-the-final-cars-to-cross-baltimores-key-bridge-before-it-collapsed/
https://apnews.com/article/francis-scott-key-bridge-collapse-anniversary-baltimore-dc6809a692dfc48a57d54d40b6b58ad0
The reminiscing of these people is a stark contrast to the way I always saw the Key Bridge. For me, the “evil” of that bridge is what lived on in my mind, especially as it loomed over the harbor for many years. First, my fears of driving over it, combined with my mom’s admonition to stay away from that part of town as it was a “bad area”. Then there was the Key Bridge jumper a decade or so later. It was a scary, sinister looking bridge, located in a sketchy neighborhood, that someone I knew jumped off of – honestly, what was there to like? Or to want to fondly remember? My first and initially frightening drive over the Key Bridge demonstrated that it was mostly “all bark and no bite”. It just looked intimidating, and that was about it. I had driven on mountain roads that were far more challenging than crossing the Key Bridge. I survived that drive easily and pretty much forgot about it. That was, until the second event (the jumper) that sealed the deal in my mind that the Key Bridge really was an evil structure. Later came the third act, so to speak, when again I was blindly following my GPS map and ended up crossing the bridge again. Oh no, not that old evil Key Bridge! There was no fear during that trip, as that emotion had long been replaced with disgust and aversion. In addition, my mom was with me, and she also shared my disdain of the bridge. But I tried hard to not think of the monster’s “sordid past” as I drove across it and back that afternoon.
But sadly, this maligned monster is no more. I suppose I am back to where I started, in a round about way. This time last year I was planning a trip to visit the New River Gorge Bridge, as I was using it as a stand in for this bridge I could never again cross. Then, I visited the Key Bridge’s surviving “big brother”, the Bay Bridge, last fall, and walked its southern span. Finally, there’s yet another saying – “you can never go home again”. Perhaps that is true in many ways, and for me it means that I’ll never be able to go back and revisit that part of my past. I’ll not ever have the chance to see the Key Bridge in a positive light (even though my final crossing of it was uneventful) as it is no more. The best I can do, I think, is to try and understand that for many, the Key Bridge is the subject of fond memories and is sorely missed. The benefits that it brought to the region have vanished with it, even though they never existed in the forefront of my mind. But most everyone else was able to see and appreciate this good. I can of course understand these peoples’ feelings, despite the fact that I did not share in them. Upon hearing the news of the collapse, my friend John put our feelings into words quite simply: “I’m *almost* glad it’s gone!”. Which of course means that even he understands that despite his loathing of the bridge, he realizes that it was crucial to the area and that its loss is indeed a disaster.