Falling Man
My Pa, a riveter by trade, died building the Golden Gate Bridge. On Feb. 17, 1937, his work scaffold collapsed. They had stretched a safety net under the floor of the bridge from end to end, but it was only capable of catching men and their tools.
It had saved 19 men from a cold drowning. Those lucky ones, they laughed and called themselves the “Halfway to Hell” club. But my Pa's scaffold was too heavy, and it broke clean through the net, carrying him and ten others down into the freezing, salty strait.
Three months later, when they opened the bridge to pedestrian traffic, my mother put on her Easter bonnet and best shoes and took us kids to walk “that bridge.” All the Golden Gate widows were given a place of honor beside the mayor on a platform, and in the warm spring sunshine with a cheering crowd, the bridge boss, Smiling Joe Strauss, called out the names of the men who had died “giving California this greatest of gifts.”
We walked the bridge, and my mother pointed to the soaring red towers, each with 600,000 rivets, she said, put in place by men like my Pa, by their sweat and arms as hard as balcony railings.
“It's a modern marvel,” everyone said, and they posed for smiling photographs. I wanted to love the bridge, then and ever since. But all I can see of it is cold unyielding steel and a falling man pleading with the sky.
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Author's Note
First appeared on LitFire. Inspired by a news snippet about death on the great bridge.
Other stories by Gita M. Smith
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Evokes medieval memories ("every bridge requires a sacrifice"). The ending is terrific. *
yes, wonderful. and i echo beate, the ending is super.
Yes.
Two of my three kids were born in sight of the bridge. I'll never see it the same way again, but then you never do anyway, no matter how many times you see it.
The regressive right would never allow it to be built today. We're lucky to have it.
Kudos from a San Franciscan.
Thanks for the support. Glad that a real Bay Area writer gave this his seal of approval.
If I said this was riveting, would you forgive me?
Seriously, a great story cleanly told.
Wow! what a story! I.Like.A lot.* !
So glad Editor's Eye brought me to this story. Especially poignant as everyone here in the Bay Area is getting ready to celebrate the 75th (I think) anniversary of the Bridge.*
I also discovered this through Editor's Eye. Did people really die building the bridge? I don't know if this is true, but it *feels* true, and the ending image is unforgettable.
Phew! What an ending!!
Kathryn, yes, 11 men died building the GGB.
That's why I wrote that Pa and 10 others fell. This is fiction but I did some research first. Thanks for liking it.
Powerful image in the closing. Yes.
Favorite part: "We walked the bridge, and my mother pointed to the soaring red towers, each with 600,000 rivets, she said, put in place by men like my Pa, by their sweat and arms as hard as balcony railings."
Good piece, Gita.
Love the whole thing, but that parting image--whoa! Peace *
Gita, this evokes so many emotions, so powerfully rendered. I have a dear friend who was so enthralled (not sure that's the right word) by those who have jumped from the GGB, she wrote and filmed a documentary on the subject. Your piece, with the "Pa" reference, makes it first hand chilly. This is exceptional.
Fave.
a falling man pleading with the sky
Just beautiful!
I really love this piece. It is clear and real and such great writing! Fave!