Long, Too Long
by
Every Wednesday, I drive across the Mississippi River to bring Sun to my friend’s to watch her. To do this, I cross the Huey P. Long Bridge. This bridge is not for the weak. It is narrow, rickety, and shaky (especially when a train goes along it, too, in its center). My husband has driven countless times over this bridge and has no fear of it. He’s helped me feel more secure about crossing it. However, ever since that Mississippi River bridge collapsed in Minnesota, I am again white-knuckled when I cross this thing.
Each time I cross the Huey P., I think about how I’d respond if it collapsed. I keep my hand on my seatbelt button and think how I’d (1) wrestle myself free from my seat, (2) get a window open, and (3) get to the backseat to save Sun. Then I think about what if I saved myself but not her. Or her but not me. Or neither. I can hardly breath for the four minutes I am on this dang bridge.
I know it is unreasonable to think what I think. I know it is unlikely that I’d ever face such a disaster. I know things work out no matter what, and kvetching about them doesn’t change them. But I think part of this worrying comes with the territory of being a mother. I’d easily give my life to save hers. No question about it. But I hate that every Wednesday I am faced with thinking about my mortality.
I could take the Crescent City Connection (which I do take to cross back over the river and get to work), but then it’d take me over an hour to drop Sun off and get to work. I am able to not let an unreasonable fear dictate my actions. But I can’t seem to stop that fear from dictating my thoughts.
They will be working to widen this bridge soon. Presumably it will be safer. Let’s hope it alleviates my worries.
I think of it this way: That bridge has been standing since the late 30′s or 40′s, okay, a really long time. You know they made them better in the olden days. I think they should leave it alone, because you know they will just mess it up.
The shaking must happen so it doesn’t collaspe. An enigneer told me that. Also, if it did collaspe (I hate to break it to you), you won’t survive anything. You will pass out before you hit the river. This is why I drive about 60 mph on the bridge. I am trying to beat the fall, if it does collaspe.
Happy driving.
I hate the Huey P. Just thinking of driving or riding across it makes me tense. I subject myself every once in a while, but avoid it if at all possible.
Good advice I never thought of though. Um, thanks I guess.
Wendy, your comments just worry me more ;(
Hate to say it, but I’m with Wendy. Drive faster and get it over with.
I still have nightmares about that bridge. It’s not that I am afraid of it collapsing, I am just certain that someone is going to nudge me into the river, it’s so narrow. Cross with your window open. That way, you can swim out. Hubby has a seatbelt cutter he keeps in the car with him in case his belt gets jammed and he has to make a hasty exit…
[...] once getting to the Expressway, I called SoMo to bring me in to the Huey P. Long Bridge (we were meeting for dinner on the eastbank but nearer to the Huey P. than the GNO). She gave [...]