A Bridge is lost....
(Photos on this page courtesy of Gary Gackstatter.)
The March dawn's first light finds this old stone bridge northwest of Floral just as it has for nearly a century, but this will be the last time. This bridge is doomed. No, it won't fall in because of flood or deterioration. Progress has come to this quiet and beautiful place, and the antiquated old stone bridge is about to be crushed by the steamroller of progress. A part of our past is about to be removed as though it never even existed.
The stones fall one by one into the cold water below. The arch, the strength, the very backbone of the structure is slow to succumb. Stones carefully cut and placed by skilled hands so long ago are carelessly tossed aside. This was a nice bridge.
She dies hard, but dies just the same. Once the arch is gone, the rest of the stones give way more easily.
The main complaint against the old stone bridges is that they are too narrow for modern vehicles and farm equipment. They were, after all, built in the horse power days, but the deck of the bridge could have been widened. The Spillman Creek Stone Bridge in Lincoln County was widened in the late 1940's and carried the heavy two lane traffic of a state highway for nearly a half century. The bridge could have been bypassed by the new bridge, as is the case with the Clements Stone Bridge in Chase County. Both of these are very viable options for dealing with the practical short-comings of the old stone bridges. But, for whatever reason, those alternatives were not pursued here, and another stone arch bridge is no more. In the end, history will not applaud us for what we destroyed, but rather we will be praised for what we preserved for the future.
Smoke hangs in the cool March air like Incense at a funeral. People have been drawn to these bridges for generations. How many romances where sparked here.... How many young boys caught frogs around its base... How many old men fished from its road? Only the stones know, and now they're at the bottom of the muddy stream. They were cast ruthlessly aside by the blind march of a progress on its path to it knows not where. If we don't remember the past, how will we know who we are when we get were we are going?
Walter Sharp, Bridge Builder...