The memories remain

And then there is the much more modern (and far less well known) concrete beast that stands guard at the north entrance to Savannah, Georgia on Route 17. Several years ago I was visiting Savannah, again with my mom. As I drove south on 17 the land lay low and flat, interspersed with marshes and waterways. And then, on the horizon appeared a massive spire-like structure, totally out of place in its environment. For a moment I could not understand what it was that I was seeing so close to the road up ahead. Finally more of the road came into view and I realized that this massive and imposing structure was PART of the roadway! The two towers of the Talmadge Memorial Bridge jutted high above the river like the skeletal spine on the back of a 1950’s monster movie dinosaur. I said to my mom, “Whoa! Look at that bridge!”. To which she replied, “Oh NO! Did we have to come THIS way?”. No obvious dark past there, at least not that I was aware of then, or now. Of course, like so many monsters of its kind, I have no doubts that this impressive bridge that dominates the Savannah skyline can claim a dark history. As does this very old city that it guards.

Finally, there was the Delaware Memorial Bridge. My mom also warned me about that one…I wasn’t sure what to expect as I headed towards New Jersey for a weekend vacation. Surely it could be no worse than I thought the Key Bridge would be? Soon the great towers of that enormous pale green metal monster appeared on the far horizon, but I was expecting that. The road deck appeared to rise high and steep over the river, just like the Key Bridge. But again, looks were deceiving. The drive was easy, traffic was light, and along the way I took in the sights and admired the enormous structure. And like the Savannah bridge, no negative associations intruded in on my drive that day.

Sadly I’ll never have another chance to take a drive across the concrete spine of that great beast known as the Francis Scott Key Bridge; nor will anyone else. If I had that opportunity, I’d take another trip (or more) across it if for no other reason than to more closely scrutinize the object of my past dread and revulsion. Maybe I could have found a way to admire and appreciate it. To put it into perspective and to finally conquer and deal with those negative connotations. But of course that can never happen; all that is left are some others of its kind nearby. There is still the Bay Bridge, lurking further south, always waiting to strike terror into unsuspecting and already anxious motorists. And for most other travelers, to simply provide a quick and efficient passageway to the Eastern Shore and Ocean City and back. Much further to the north stands the Delaware Memorial Bridge, also a symbol of dread and panic for some. Those monsters and others still exist, and they can be studied in photos and videos in ways that are not possible from simply driving across them. But the Key Bridge now only lives on in said memories…