More Than Meets The Eye

After weeks of road tripping from the East to West coast, Ryan and I had seen many incredible views, and yet the Golden Gate Bridge, protruding red and grand through a rising mist, still took our breath away.

We had walked for hours from the city to reach it, and desperate to make it to the headlands on the other side by sunset, we made our way across, in awe of the architecture and view.

However as inspiring as the bridge was, we were constantly reminded of its more sinister side.

The sidewalk was peppered with phones encouraging people to call helplines, warning that the results of jumping will be tragic and fatal.

A miniature car patrolled the sidewalk, its sole purpose to look for and try to prevent suicidal people from jumping.

As darkness fell we made our way back across the bridge, successful sunset shots in hand. What had been a warm day was now bitterly cold, with relentless ocean winds.

Seeing our shivering plight, the bridge patrol picked us up, giving us a lift across.

As we sat in the back of his tiny paddy wagon, he answered our inquisitive questions.

“Today has been a good day,” he confided in us.

“There were no jumpers, but there are suicidal people up here every day.”

As the magnitude of his job sunk in, we were filled with admiration that this man could face such things daily and remain so friendly and warm-hearted.

“Is it rewarding?” I asked.

“Oh yes, definitely,” he replied. “There are days when it’s difficult though.”

“The young kids get to me. They’ve got their whole lives ahead of them, and they want to die.”

“I’ve seen it all,” he continued. “Terminally ill patients who just want it to be over, businessmen in suits. I’ve seen it all.”

We eventually reached the other side of the bridge, shook his hand, said our goodbyes, and made our way to the bus stop.

Being in the presence of the Golden Gate Bridge was humbling. It is huge and somehow mysterious in its greatness. But it is also much less and much more than that.

It’s a bridge that people drive back and forth over to work everyday.

It’s a bridge that has become an iconic symbol of San Francisco, recognisable around the world.

And it’s a bridge that is shrouded in the sadness of the people who stood upon it for their last breath, but also in hope, for the people who found the strength to turn around and step down, and for the ones who will face that decision tomorrow and the next day.