Where Is the Brooklyn Bridge?
New York City
It was a bitterly cold day in the winter of 1853. The wind beat against the passengers on a ferryboat. The boat was trapped in the East River, stuck between huge chunks of ice. But the passengers had to put up with it. The ferryboat was the only practical way to get from New York City to Brooklyn. New York was an island, surrounded on all sides by water. In those days, nearly everyone who came to New York, or left
it, traveled by boat.
Fifteen-year-old Washington Roebling was on the ferry that day with his father, John Roebling. At forty-six, John Roebling was the most famous bridge builder in America. He was a genius and a gentleman. He was also a very tough man. He had strong opinions and not much patience. If someone was even five minutes late for an appointment, he’d cancel the meeting and send the person away! For a man like John Roebling to be stuck for hours on a boat—doing nothing, wasting time—was pure torture.
It was especially hard for Roebling since all he had to do was look around and he could imagine a better way to travel. There should be a bridge here. A bridge connecting New York and Brooklyn. Right there and then, he imagined the Brooklyn Bridge in his mind’s eye. But it would take thirty more years before the bridge would be finished—and John Roebling would be long dead
Where Is the Brooklyn Bridge?
New York City
It was a bitterly cold day in the winter of 1853. The wind beat against the passengers on a ferryboat. The boat was trapped in the East River, stuck between huge chunks of ice. But the passengers had to put up with it. The ferryboat was the only practical way to get from New York City to Brooklyn. New York was an island, surrounded on all sides by water. In those days, nearly everyone who came to New York, or left
it, traveled by boat.
Fifteen-year-old Washington Roebling was on the ferry that day with his father, John Roebling. At forty-six, John Roebling was the most famous bridge builder in America. He was a genius and a gentleman. He was also a very tough man. He had strong opinions and not much patience. If someone was even five minutes late for an appointment, he’d cancel the meeting and send the person away! For a man like John Roebling to be stuck for hours on a boat—doing nothing, wasting time—was pure torture.
It was especially hard for Roebling since all he had to do was look around and he could imagine a better way to travel. There should be a bridge here. A bridge connecting New York and Brooklyn. Right there and then, he imagined the Brooklyn Bridge in his mind’s eye. But it would take thirty more years before the bridge would be finished—and John Roebling would be long dead
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