A Bridge is Down

I’ve been following the terrible news from my hometown today, the Twin Cities of Minneapolis/St.Paul.  As you probably know by now, the 35W freeway bridge over the Mississippi River in downtown Minneapolis suddenly collapsed today during rush hour, sending the bridge and the cars on it tumbling 60 feet down into the river.  Through the wonders of the internet I’ve been able to follow the story quite closely, and it is almost too horrifying to do.  Our town and state has never experienced such a catastrophe before.  It’s probably not an exaggeration to say that everyone who lives in the Twin Cities has been on that bridge, oodles of times.  It’s just right there in the heart of downtown, serving as the main thoroughfare into downtown Minneapolis.  And now, just like that, it’s gone!  It simply snapped and fell into the river.  I’ve  driven across it thousands of times.   Once, on a snowy night I hit a patch of black ice and joined 4 other cars in a spinning waltz across the bridge.  One of my favorite bike trails goes right under the bridge, and I always look up and ponder how that steel and concrete stay up there.  In fact, I did just that a couple of weeks ago. My fascination is rooted in the fact that I hate bridges.  I always have.  This won’t help.  As I write this, there are 7 known dead, 60 injured, and 20 listed as missing.  My prayers are with their families.