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For the life of me I can't remember the name of the bridge, but it's in Louisiana. It's full of pot holes and is about 20 miles long. All I could think about when crossing the thing was what was lurking underneath ... and OMG what if I crash and go over the edge!
I wonder tet tea if that is the bridge I recall as a child? My father would drive from Baton Rouge to New Orleans, where his parents lived (his own hometown), and I would lower my head beneath the edge of the window just so I wouldn't have to see how narrow the bridge was, how long it was, and the fact there was absolutely nothing on either side of the rail except murky water and swamp. I was terrified.
The only time in my precious little one's life that I ever, ever spoke harshly to her, was once when crossing the old Cooper River Bridge that you took over to Charleston, SC. My husband had explained how to get onto the new bridge, but somehow, I ended up crossing the old one, and I was trying very, very hard not to panic.
So, there I am, my arms locked on the steering wheel, my eyes focused straight ahead, a sweat breaking-out on my forehead, and my underarms damp, my heart beating to beat the band, and feeling like I could just jump out of my skin. . . and this beautiful little curly-headed thing, across from me, straining to see out of the window, and exclaiming for all she's worth, "Oh, Mommy! C-o-o-l. . . wow! Look how high up we are. Do you see the tiny boats! Oh neat! Look at the airplane!"
Poor thing. From the depths of my bowels comes this deep, guttural, command from between clenched-teeth, "SHUT THE HELL UP."
It shook her up pretty badly. Me, too. First thing I did when I stopped at the light at the foot of the bridge was apologize -- profusely. The rest of THAT day, she got anything she wanted, I felt so bad about what I had said. The kid could'a cleaned-out-the-bank, I tell ya!
LOL.. I think a lot of us want to cross the bridge back to teenhood!
I can tell you were not the geek growing up. I was glad to get that bridge behind me. I am not sure I would want to go back and repeat much.
I look at life like and Italian driver. Pull off the rearview mirror and let what is behind you stay there, watch for the problems in front of you .
Back in the dark ages when I was young, I was riding a horse and leading a pony as my pack animal across the country. I was going from east to west and came across a bridge over the Mississippi that was (as I recall) all metal and metal grating. That meant I could see under me at the river below. The side rails were barely 3 feet high. Not only could I see where I was, my horse and pony had eyes. They were much calmer about it than me. Before that, I didn't know I had a fear of heights.
Then there was the news of the I-35 bridge that collapsed in MN. I haven't trusted bridges ever since. I think I am more than just nervous about it and am looking for a GPS I can install in my car that understands I don't want to go over a bridge if at all possible. Yeah, I know I wouldn't get very far. But that's where I am right now.
Years ago during the 1940 flood in Wilkes County, NC, my mother and a friend went to see how high the water was under the bridge beside of where she lived. They shined a flash light and the water was right under the bridge. They had no more gotten to the top of the hill where her friend lived when news that the bridge had washed away. She had moved in with this friend because there was about 4 feet of water in her home right beside the Deep Ford Hill Bridge. It wasn't me, but that is just about as scary as it gets.
I was in drivers' ed when I drove across the Deception Pass Bridge on Whidbey Island, Washington. I was already terrified of heights, and this made me even more nervous.
Ok, ya, the first time I crossed over the Tacoma Narrows bridge.
Like a bridge over troubled waters. Sing it.
Lots of bridges to cross over troubled waters. Didn't know if this was literal or not. Literally haven't driven over many bridges that were scary or troublesome!
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The kid could'a cleaned-out-the-bank, I tell ya!
