The Bridge

A friend was looking for photos of bridges to be used in a book; the proceeds of the sale of that book were to be donated to a charity. The word was sent out that they were still lacking a photo of a footbridge.

My first thought was of a crude, rickety bridge made of ropes and boards strung over a deep river canyon. I could picture it in my head, it was older and there would be spaces where a few boards were missing. There would also be places where the ropes had been repaired, many time, over the years. You would not see the river in the canyon below but the water mist would clearly be visible in the corner of the photo.

The dark green jungle foliage is clearly shown in the background at the top of the photo. There were no persons in the photo and you could not see either end of the bridge. The near end was clearly behind the photographer and the far end disappeared into the mist.

I had seen such photos in various publications over the years, but had no idea where to find such a bridge.

My wife and I had donated a few photos of bridges, both large and small, in our area. We did not know which, if any, had been used. We do know that she was listed as a contributor to the book, so we presume one may have been used, or it could have been a piece of loose poetry she wrote that was chosen.

It was 3 weeks ago that we heard about the need for a photo of a foot bridge and I had not thought much about it. I woke out of a sound sleep to see a picture in my head of another foot bridge, this one was much simpler. There were already photos of that bridge, one was an award winner.

This bridge was just a log that had fallen over a ravine. The ravine was not that big, maybe 5 feet across. The log was huge, about 24 to 30 inches across and worn smooth and flat by all the boots that had crossed it. I was there the day the photo was taken.

It was while I was in basic training, I was to be a grunt, a ground pounding soldier. My squad was traveling a trail through a section of woods in full combat gear when I saw the photographer. He was almost on his belly, the camera was pointing across the log at near ground level looking in from a slight angle. Not quite looking straight down the log.

I was a pace or two behind the last guy in the photo. All you could see of me was below the knee as the rest of us ran toward that log. There were 3 guys on the log and 2 more turned to the right and heading up the trail on the other side. It was in black and white.

You could see the mud on our boots, but you were not able to make out the details on any of the faces. You could see the fatigue in the way the bodies moved as we went on.

I could not remember the name of the fellow who took it. I sat up for a while thinking back on that day, then lay back down and went to sleep. When I woke later that morning my wife was not in bed, she was up and about and on the computer. There was a determined look on her face. I asked if there was anything I could do.

"No" was the reply. She was just looking up some information.

It was 15 to 20 days later that she showed me an envelope that had arrived in the day's mail. In it, among other items, were 2 large photos and release. The photos were from a series of photos that had been taken that day long ago, they were the ones just before and after the famous one.

In the accompanying letter the photographer thanked us for remembering his work and stated that he was pleased to donate either or both of the photos to the book. He had been retired for a decade and getting on in years. But he still remembers the looks on our faces as we trained that day. He wrote that "Those looks made him proud and grateful to be a part of such a great nation." The intensity impressed him a great deal.

He also enclosed another photo that was not to be used for publication. In that photo you could see that once great log still lying there almost 30 years later. It was worn even further and was now showing signs of decay where it touched the ground. There was a newer log lying off to the side that was now used for the same training.

As I sat there looking at my past I asked how and why she got those photos. She only said that they were important to me, and I was important to her. She later told me I had talked in my sleep.

We scanned the photos and sent them by email to our friend, along with the release. The before photo was used in the book. It was the very last photo in it. There was a paragraph that explained how a bridge did not need to be large, complex, fancy or even planned. It just had to get you past an obstacle to another place.

I told my wife "Just like the love you and I have for each other." Then we hugged and kissed and headed for bed.