RIVER CITY JOURNAL: A BRIDGE TO MEMORIES OF LIGHTS IN THE NIGHT

No, this isn't one of those glimpses of how we're going to get to the next century. It's more of a fast-lane to the past.

The talk about putting lights on the Bill Emerson Memorial Bridge, currently under construction across the mighty Mississippi, made me think of other bridges with lights.

When my wife and I were first married, she taught in the brand-new Oak Park High School in the North Kansas City School District, and I was a reporter for The Kansas City Star. She drove to work at the school in Gladstone -- well north of the city in those days, and I drove past downtown Kansas City to get to the newspaper building. This meant taking one of three main bridge routes into downtown Kansas City, either the ASB Bridge, the Broadway Bridge or the Paseo Bridge.

The ASB bridge (now closed) would remind almost anyone of the existing river crossing here at Cape Girardeau: two narrow lanes, a lot of steel girders and a constant need for maintenance. The Broadway Bridge was really too far out of the way.

The faster route was the Paseo Bridge, even though it wasn't exactly a direct route. This new bridge carried the traffic of I-29 and I-35, and it had oodles of lanes, or so it seemed.

The Paseo Bridge is, like the Emerson Bridge will be, suspended from thick cables that make sweeping curves across the river. One of the grandest sights for this old farm boy from the Ozarks was to drive into the city at night from the north in our old Volkswagen. As you came down the long hill from where the interstates divided, there was a commanding view of the river valley and its industrial development. But there, in the middle of it all, were the lights of the Paseo Bridge arching through the clutter.

We later moved to Dallas, which had no rivers of consequence and, therefore, no bridges worth mentioning. Our next stop was New York City, whose main island of Manhattan is accessible by a number of bridges or tunnels over/under the Hudson River or the East River.

When we first got to New York, we were put up in an apartment building on West 72nd Street a half-block from Central Park West. We were across the street from the Dakota, a Gothic apartment building made famous by the movie "Rosemary's Baby" and later the tragic shooting of John Lennon outside its front entrance.

But we really didn't notice the bridges until we found an apartment and moved to Staten Island, a ferry ride from work, thus avoiding the subways, buses or taxis.

I'm not sure how a couple of Midwesterners from small communities in Missouri were so lucky, but our apartment had a commanding view of New York Harbor with the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island on the left, Governor's Island on the right and the southern tip of Manhattan -- Wall Street and the financial district -- in the middle. This also allowed sweeping vistas up both the Hudson and the East River.

Far up the Hudson was another huge suspension bridge, the George Washington, which carried more than one level of traffic from the Bronx to the palisades of New Jersey. On the East River side was the famous Brooklyn Bridge, ancient by comparison, but a wonderful architectural delight anyway.

At night, the view from our living room was dazzling. Visitors were always impressed, and during the two years we were there we never tired of looking out, day or night.

But the lights on the bridge made the night view magical. It was the best.

Just before we arrived, the new Verrazano Narrows Bridge had opened, giving Staten Island a link with Brooklyn. This suspension bridge is so long that the tops of its two towers are farther apart than their bases to allow for the curvature of the Earth. Riding the ferry from Manhattan to Staten Island late at night gave you the best joyride a nickel could buy: the Statue of Liberty, the lights of Manhattan, plus the bridges.

If it turns out that lights are installed on the new Emerson Bridge, I can tell you that it will be a wonderful sight to behold. Our ability to conquer huge rivers with steel and concrete never ceases to amaze. Lights give these engineering wonders a special sparkle.

ERRATUM: Last week's column on my visit to the Governor's Mansion in Jefferson City included some information based on a casual conversation with one of the mansion's employees -- and my own memory, which I have repeatedly told you isn't worth much at all. I said restoration of the mansion began with Mrs. Christopher Bond.

Of course, it started much earlier than that, and much of the work was done during the Hearnes administration. How do I know?

Because I got a telephone call from former Gov. Warren Hearnes the morning the column was published. He admonished me in the nicest possible way and said that his wife, former First Lady Betty Hearnes, would be sending me some information to further enlighten me.

Sure enough, this week I received a nice packet from Mrs. Hearnes, who, after eight years in the mansion, later served with distinction in the House of Representatives.

I can tell you with some authority that the beauty of the Governor's Mansion is due in no small part to the attention the restoration project received from Mrs. Hearnes while her husband was governor.

If you ever have the opportunity, by all means go to Jefferson City and see for yourself.

And Gov. and Mrs. Hearnes, please keep reading my column.

~R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.