The final appointment and building monsters

But really, what goes thru the mind of a potential bridge jumper? Not so much why they respond to the invitation of a particular monster, but simply why they respond to the monster at all. What makes a bridge look like a way out of torment for them, instead of a way across a body of water or a gorge for most everyone else? It appears there are different sorts of victims out there from what I have been able to gather. The first kind are the impulsive. Those who respond to the call of whatever monster might be nearby; a monster that is easy to get to and easily accessible. Not necessarily a huge and iconic bridge, but rather any that offer a height that will likely result in a fatal impact. Or they choose something other than a bridge, like a multi-story building or tower. But then there are those who make meticulous plans. Like the Key Bridge jumper. This man gave no indication of his intentions. He even made sure his significant other would be taken care of before he kept his final appointment with the bridge. And on the day he visited Dundalk’s metal monster for the last time, he called my friend John and talked to him for a few moments. No goodbyes, no sign of anything amiss. John said he was actually joking about some television show they had seen the other night. Nothing more than friendly banter and an “I’ll see you later – bye.” And around noon that dreary day, he drove the brand new car he had recently purchased onto the bridge. This was the car he left to his partner, whom he made sure knew how to drive and had obtained a license. And then he got out and approached the monster’s side barrier, climbed over and was gone.

Thus far I have said much about this rogue’s gallery of roadway monsters, both large and small, and about the victims of said monsters. But there is another aspect that so far I’ve barely touched upon. Where there are man-made monsters, there are also monster makers. Where exactly do they fit in here? Doctor Frankenstein made his monster with the help of Igor procuring the necessary corpse parts. That, and the addition of a powerful thunderstorm to generate the electricity to spark life into the monster. But monsters of the steel and concrete variety might require multiple designers, engineers and builders. When the Key Bridge collapsed, some of the local news media published interviews with men who had helped construct that metal monster. Frankenstein didn’t require a small army of ghouls to help construct his monster, but the Key Bridge and its fellow freeway monsters did indeed need lots of labor. These retired monster builders were naturally rather sad to see their creation tumble into the Patapsco River. And considering the typical lifespan of similar bridges, it should have outlived most of them. That class of construction workers is to be respected, as they brave insane heights that would terrify the average person, much less those who suffer from acrophobia. But surely they would not see the creation that they toil to bring to life as a monster, or would they?