Boom

Bad ass.

I didn't take the day off of work today because I am a diligent worker. Also, I didn't feel like making another round trip to Rhode Island after a delightful weekend at home and a lovely Marathon Monday. But after my Mom and I had dinner (at Aunt Carrie's, natch) on Friday, I asked if we could drive by the old bridge so I could say my good-byes. Yes, I know it's an inanimate object. Shut up. I was sad when I got rid of my license plates too. You can take the girl out of Rhode Island...

We drove over right before sunset on Friday night. It had rained, but as we got on 138 the clouds broke up a little bit. The road is wide and curves a little, so I drove fast to get to the bridge. It appeared on my right, and my Mom and I craned our necks to look over.

At the Narragansett side of the old bridge there was a construction field office and several huge cranes in Crayola primary colors. Huge fences and prominent signs warned people to stay off the bridge. We ascended the Verazzano bridge, my mother begging me to keep my eyes on the road in front of me. I did, but took several long looks at the weathered blue steel beams that held the old bridge up for so many years.

The grating that scared the bejesus out of many Rhode Islanders, both young and old there was gone. Nothing but the big support beams remained. It was frightening to actually see how little separated the hundreds of thousands of motorists that used the road from plunging into the ocean below.

"Ooh, that's freaking me out," my Mom said, turning her head toward me in the driver's seat. "I had it in my head that it would be like what I went over it when it was open, and there's nothing there, and my brain can't get over it. Augh!"

We descended to the Jamestown side of the bridge, where another field office and cranes sat. The clouds settled over Jamestown as I missed my exit and headed for the far side of the island near the Pell Bridge to Newport. I got off the highway and got into Jamestown before I found a place to turn around.

"I think I came here with your father once," my Mom said, looking at an old building as I sped past, heading for a large driveway to turn around. "I think I rode over the Jamestown Bridge on his motorcycle."

"Really?" My Mom is prudent nearly to a fault.

"Oh yeah. I did a lot of dumb stuff when I was a kid. I rode over that bridge in all kinds of bad vehicles."

I got back on 138 and went by the bridge again. On the westbound side of the new bridge the old one isn't very visible, so I looked off into the water below.

Fare thee well, Jamestown Bridge. You served the people of and visitors to Rhode Island faithfully for many years. Enjoy your rebirth as a reef for fish.