Turning scrap metal into gold

Sept. 16, 2004

Dear David,

I presume you heard and saw that the old Mississippi River bridge didn't fall down exactly the way it was supposed to last week. On the riverfront, many people clapped in a kind of shocked amazement when the dynamite exploded and not just one span but three crashed into the water. It was like watching a play where the scenery falls down: unexpected and not a little thrilling.

In the space of a few seconds, Cape Girardeau found the tourist attraction the city has lacked. People parked illegally on the new Emerson Bridge to look at the wreckage of steel suddenly released from 75 years of bondage and now blocking off the whole Mississippi River.

Downtown eateries have been flush with people who want to see for have to themselves. Late-evening business has been lively at Doc Cain's ice cream shop. People lick their cones and survey the scene.

So far, nobody has said, "We messed up." The engineers say the steel span that is supposed to still be standing failed, and they don't know why. It's a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.

In this season of political intrigue, candidates' every utterance and gesture are spun to take maximum advantage of even the worst circumstances. Perhaps the Missouri Department of Transportation does not need more expert demolition contractors. They just need to rev up the public relations machine.

The bridge was going to come down eventually anyway. Presumably we've saved on dynamite and maybe time. But much better, the botched explosion put Cape Girardeau on the map. Pictures and video of the blast have circulated around much of the world, including the European edition of USA Today. We are now the town that went overboard knocking down a bridge.

This kind of publicity usually is expensive.

The future is pregnant with possibilities:

New age believers find cosmic significance in the arrangement of the twisted metal. Forget Stone There are not accidents, they will insist to skeptics.

A petition is circulated to have the crumpled steel designated an historic landmark.

Artists submit proposals to turn the old bridge into a floating sculpture garden.

Fishermen can't wait to drop a line in a new world-class fishing hole, knowing how fish like to hang out near underwater hiding places.

A local winemaker begins producing Twisted Bridge, a piquant beverage with just a hint of Mississippi River water.

The Convention and Visitors Bureau prints up postcards of the artists painting the murals on the floodwall as a crane extricates the steel from the Mississippi.

The demolition is postponed indefinitely. "Take your time," the mayor tells MoDOT.

The artists painting scenes from Cape Girardeau's history on the floodwall create an additional panel that was not originally planned. It includes the word "Kaboom."

Love, Sam

Sam Blackwell is the managing editor of the Southeast Missourian