When They Built The Big Bridge


Washington Roebling sat and watched the thundering horde from his window on Columbia Heights. His hour of vindication had been long in coming, but today it had arrived in full measure. He had been visited by the President, the Governor, mayors, ex-mayors, generals, admirals, editors, artists, architects, engineers, and other dignitaries beyond counting.


Afflicted as he was by the ravages of the disease he had contracted in the caissons, he was exhausted by the time the day was over, but not too exhausted to gaze in full contentment at the throngs advancing over what once had been mere lines at the point of his father’s pencil. Beneath its surging load, the bridge was holding firm.