All language subtitles for BBC.Seven.Wonders.Of.The.Industrial.World.2of7.The.Brooklyn.Bridge.DivX6.AC3-MVGroup

BBC Seven Wonders Of The Industrial World

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Now this bridge will not only be...

...the greatest bridge in existence.

And a great work of art.

lt will be
the greatest engineering work...

...of this continent...

...and of any age.

This is the story of the building
of the Brooklyn Bridge.

The bridge, the bridge, the bridge,
the bridge, the bridge, the bridge.

The bridge that
created modern New York.

By first linking
Brooklyn and Manhattan.

lt is the story of men
who achieved the impossible.

Working deep beneath the river bed.

And high above the city.

lt is a story of a father`s vision.

Of his son`s tragic inheritance.

And of the woman whose strength and
intelligence saved him and the bridge.

The Brooklyn Bridge almost
destroyed the family who created it.

Now it stands as a memorial
to their vision, sacrifice and loyalty.

l`ve heard people say that the work of
the engineer is boring, that it`s dull.

How wrong those people are.

They should hear this story.

The building of the Brooklyn Bridge,
and we created it.

lt is a fourteen year saga that sold
newspapers and enthralled millions.

Every cutting collected and preserved
for posterity by Emily Roebling.

From the beginning she was
an unofficial historian of the bridge.

Later she would take on much more.

This film is based on her scrapbooks.

lmagine New York,
it`s a crowded bustling city.

Separated from Brooklyn
by the East River.

No one could imagine
how the two could be joined.

But one man knew how it could be done.

He had been campaigning
for fifteen years.

He was already
an experienced bridge builder,

the German emigre John Roebling,
a true visionary.

John Roebling is a brilliant engineer.

He can see things
other people only imagine.

He`s a genius, he`s a genius.

My father studied
under Hegel in Prussia.

He saw America as
this great gateway to the imagination,

this place where we could
create amazing structures.

His bridges in Pittsburgh and Cincinnati
and over the rapids in Niagara,...

...they`re marvellous.

But he dreamed of the Brooklyn Bridge
as his crown of achievement.

My father had a way of talking
which nothing sounded impossible.

lt was like magic.

He believed.

l thought to myself
why can`t one bring a bridge to span,

to leap right across from
Manhattan to Brooklyn.

He says he`s going to build
the longest bridge in the world.

A mile from end to end.

He says he`s going to raise
towers high over the city,

the tallest towers ever seen.

These towers with their great,
great strength will support

these suspension cables
which will be like massive muscles.

Dropping from these cables will be
the wires holding the bridge like tendons.

So imagine the thing like Samson there.

His bridge would be the longest,
the strongest, the tallest,

though perhaps
the most dangerous ever built.

Assisted by his son Washington
he hired a team of the finest engineers.

He promised them a monument to rival
the hanging gardens of Babylon.

When this bridge is constructed
according to my design

it will be a living testimony
to the energy,

to the enthusiasm and to the wealth of the
two cities that secured its construction.

This bridge will not only be the greatest
bridge in existence and a work of art

but will also be, and l hope it will be,

the greatest work of engineering
of this continent and of this age.

The bridge, the bridge.

But only three days after
the go-ahead to start work.

John Roebling was out surveying
the site for the Brooklyn Tower,

a ferry crashed in to the pier,
with unusual force.

Mr Roebling`s foot was crushed.

Two of his toes
were damaged beyond repair.

l had to amputate his toes.

He would not accept
any anaesthetic whatsoever

and l fear the consequences
of this will be grave.

John Roebling believed

he could cure himself by pouring water
over the wound night and day.

My father had taken command of his case

and is refusing all treatment
from the doctor.

He is determined to heal himself
by water therapy alone.

Mr Roebling is inviting
sure death upon himself.

l believe er boss tweed is
rather um crestfallen.

He thinks and talks of the bridge
as incessantly as ever and

seems unwilling to have the conversation
of his professional assistance

diverted for a moment to his own accident.

We have endured ten terrible days.

Lockjaw has set in.

Mr Roebling is unable
to eat or swallow.

lt is very distressing.

The bridge is barely two weeks
in to construction.

Not a stone has been laid.

And its designer and
chief engineer is gone.

The rock on which
l hither to lean had fallen.

With my father gone hence forth
l would have to rely upon myself.

Washington Roebling faced
the defining challenge of his life.

Washington has promised his father
that he`ll finish the bridge.

He must, it`s his duty.

lnvestors were ready to pull out.

The bridge company quickly turned
to Washington, their one last hope.

Washington Roebling,
our new Chief Engineer.

Herr Roebling, Herr Roebling sir,

what makes you suitable
to take on your father`s role.

ls it not true

that you have never managed the
construction of a bridge on this scale?

No man has done that sir.

Not even my father.

This is a construction project
without precedence.

But there are three good reasons why l
am suited to the job of Chief Engineer.

First the cables,

l`m the only man living with the practical
experience to build those great cables

and make every wire bear its share.

Second, the towers and their foundations,

on my father`s instructions
l have spent a year in Europe

studying the sinking of caissons
with compressed air.

The means he intended to build
those towers out in the river.

Third design, l have assisted my father
in the preparations for the first designs.

He being the mastermind of course.

l am therefore familiar with his ideas
and with the whole project and gentlemen

if l may suggest no one else is.

No one else is.

There l was at the age of thirty two,

suddenly put in charge
of the most stupendous

engineering structure of the age.

What my father has started
it is my duty to finish,

and l will be more than proud to work
with the team that he has assembled.

Our success depends on diligence,

sacrifice and loyalty,
thank you gentlemen.

At first l thought l would succumb.

But l had a strong tower to lean upon,

my wife, a woman of
infinite tact and wisest council.

Washington inherited his father`s fortune,

his wire cable company
and his vision for the bridge.

He was a more approachable man, he
quickly won the respect of the workforce.

By nature and education l trust
neither authority nor precedent.

lf there is a problem my father
taught me to think it through,

referring to general
principles and then work

...from the conclusions that l have drawn.

To trust only my own ideas.

He has all the knowledge
to build this bridge.

Throughout his entire life Washington has
met every challenge that has come to him.

He was a colonel in the civil war,
he`s built his own bridges,

he`s travelled in Europe,
he`s a brilliant engineer.

lf he sets his mind
on something he does it.

His first task was
the most daring and dangerous.

To sink heavy foundations in to the
river bed for the two colossal towers.

He planned to use airtight caissons,
giant upside down wooden boxes.

A hundred and sixty feet long
by a hundred wide.

They would be pushed down through the mud

and rocks by the weight
of the tower being built on top.

Made of thick timber, with a sharp iron
cutting edge all the way round,

the caisson chamber where the men worked

would be pumped full of
compressed air to keep water out.

As granite blocks piled
on above their weight

would force the caissons
down in to the mud,

inch by dangerous inch,
`til they reached bedrock.

Then they would be filled with concrete
to make the solid foundations.

The caissons are wooden structures
which will sink deep below the river bed,

through the mud, finally resting
upon the deepest bedrock.

The air in a container
prevents any water flooding in.

But as the caisson sinks deeper the air
inside the chamber must be compressed,

to prevent the exterior pressure
crushing the structure.

This is a double-edged sword.

Our workmen have to work for long periods

inside the caisson
in a compressed environment.

This can cause distress and
great suffering to our men.

There were reports of death and paralysis
afflicting workers in compressed air.

But they were soon hiring
scores of immigrant labourers.

The airlock was their final gateway to
a harsh new world beneath the river.

We all go down to work with pick
and shovel on the gravelly.

The bit of the excavation
is slush and mud.

We`re drilling large boulders and
breaking them in to fragments

before being taken out.

Everything wears a weird,
unnatural appearance.

There`s a confusing sensation in the head
of the sound of many rushing waters.

The pulse is at first accelerated and
then sometimes falls below normal rate.

The voice sounds faint, unnatural,
and it becomes a great effort to speak.

After just five minutes
the sweat is pouring from us.

And all the while
we`re standing in icy cold water

which is only kept from rising
by the terrific pressure.

The mixture of heat,

icy water and compressed air made many
feel they were working in hell itself.

Flaming lights in the dark shadows.

The confusing noises of trains
and drills and hammers.

One might conceive
an impression of Dante`s lnferno.

The Brooklyn caissons sank slowly
through the mud of the East River.

Thousands of tonnes of masonry
for the tower piled on above,

pushing it lower in to the river bed.

They`ve been working in the caisson for
two months now but there`s a problem,

they`ve hit a layer of large boulders.

He says they may have to use dynamite.

As you can see there`s
a great amount of labour.

And at the moment very little result.

lt`s not good.

The caisson has arrived at the depth of
twenty five feet below the water level,

and the boulders have become so large

and so numerous as to compel us
to resort to blasting.

No one had ever used explosives
in compressed air before.

l`m afraid for my men

that the blast may damage their ears
in this condensed atmosphere.

lf the airlock were damaged
compressed air would rush out,

the drop in pressure could bring
the tower crushing down on the caisson.

A sudden explosion may force the air out

and that would be fatal,
for the caisson and those of us inside.

But when they tried a test explosion
the only real problem was smoke.

With initial fear allayed we can achieve
twenty blasts in one watch.

The men merely step in to an adjacent
chamber and escape the flying fragments.

All is well.

Progress was achieved,
the caisson undamaged.

The good effects are evident,
in the lowering of the caisson by a foot

and a half per week
in place of just six inches.

For five months they work
down in to the river bed,

up above they loaded debris on
to barges to be dumped out at sea.

Washington spent more time
in the caisson than any of the men,

despite the increasing
threat of sickness.

Then one day in December they discovered
a fire burning deep in the timbers.

A fire that threatened everything
they had achieved so far.

There was a fire in the caisson, in the
wooden roof, Washington`s already gone.

He seems to spend
all of his time down there,

sometimes for days on end and, and
he won`t allow anybody else to do things,

he has to do everything himself.

Just like his father.

Where the supporting crane meets
the roof some fellow held a candle

against the roof for
some considerable time,

this proved to be our heel of Achilles.

The fire was spreading deep inside
the wooden beams of the caisson roof.

lf the roof failed twenty eight
thousand tonnes of granite

would come crashing down on the men.

They drilled a series of holes

throughout the caisson trying
to track the hidden fire.

What`s happening here now is we`ve,

we`ve drilled holes
two or three feet up in to the roof.

And so far there`s no sign of any fire.

May have been burning for several hours.

They worked for hours keeping the fire in
check, praying that the roof would hold.

At midnight the fire seemed
to be under control.

By the time Washington
made his way to the airlock

he had spent more than twenty hours
in compressed air without a break.

He suffered his first attack of the bends.

Bring me the whisky, bring me the salt.

By the next morning
his symptoms had subsided.

He was just coming round and
beginning to look more healthy.

Yes.

He still needed a deal more rest.

The fire had not been put out.

What does he say?

What are you doing?

You`re too ill to go.

Washington went straight back there to the
caisson even though he was still unwell.

Nothing could stop him.

Drilling up in to the roof, this time
in to the fourth course of the timber

they found a hidden inferno
spreading throughout the structure,

a mass of flaming embers.

We are seriously considering
flooding the entire chamber.

We stand to lose the entire project,
we stand to lose the entire bridge.

Thirty fire engines and tugs set to work.

Five hours later they had poured

more than a million gallons of water
down the shaft, flooding the caisson.

The fire has stopped completely,

but the damage will take weeks to repair
and the expense will be considerable.

We were so close to our goal.

lt took them nine more weeks
to reach bedrock,

but before they could fill the caisson
with concrete a careless mistake

by some surface workers allowed
the compressed air to escape.

This blow-out was the very thing
Washington had always feared.

The air rushed out with a great noise.

No one knew where they were going.

Confusion, darkness, the profusion of
obstacles, men ran against pillar, post.

Without the compressed air

they thought the tower would crush
down any minute killing them all.

The water rose to our knees

and we supposed of course
that the river had broken in.

From two to three minutes elapsed before
we succeeded in closing the lower doors.

lt was fortunate no lives were lost.

The pressure on Washington was relentless.

Gentlemen, this blow out was no accident.

Calling it an accident would be wrong,

because not one accident
in a hundred deserves the name.

lt was carelessness brought
about by supposing

that matters would
take care of themselves.

At last, after more weeks
they sealed off the caisson

and filled it with concrete to form
a solid foundation block.

Then whilst one team set about
raising the first tower in Brooklyn

another team started
on the New York caisson

which would face the subterranean
journey three times deeper.

On the New York site
l have some very serious concerns.

Borings have been made to ascertain the
depth of solid rock below the water level,

on the New York site

we did not hit solid rock `til the
depth of a hundred and six feet.

That is the most appalling depth
never before reached or attempted.

My greatest fear is that we`ll encounter
the worst extremes of caissons disease,

that these depths are
to sure strike my men.

No one knew
if it was even possible to sink

the New York caisson down
to this deeper bedrock.

ln spite of the risk to their health

once more hundreds of men
were employed clearing away mud,

rock and sand, deep beneath the river.

Down below they`re scared of
what may happen to the men

if this disease should strike.

On the surface everything`s so busy,
so businesslike.

At the foot of Roosevelt Street
where the New York tower

is being erected one of the busiest
scenes in the city is met with,

and has been for months, dozens of
workmen, hurrying here and there.

Wheelbarrows and hards and spakes
and shovels, men chopping, cleaning

and sawing the immense timbers used
in constructing the enormous derricks.

After only two months the New York
caisson had gone deeper than the Brooklyn

and the racking pains of caisson
disease started to take their toll.

How many successful hours
can men work in the caissons?

lt depends how deep we`re working.

The deeper we go the more
the air is compressed,

the greater the difficulty in breathing.

At the bottom of the New York caisson

we have er pressure of thirty four
pounds a square inch,

so we only allow the men to work
four hours every twenty four.

And is there any danger
going down the caisson?

Yes there is.

l have seen the blood
flow out of men`s noses.

Eyes red, bulging as if they were
ready to start out of their sockets.

All the while the poor
boy`s suffering terribly.

And they retch and vomit and
then when that passes off that`s

when the paralysis sets in, it`s tough.

lt is true

that scarcely any man has escaped
without pain to his limbs or bones,

or by slight paralysis
to the arms or legs.

But they all get over it, either by
suffering out side for a couple of days,

or by applying the heroic mode of
returning to the caisson at once

as soon as the pains manifest themselves.

And do you have any trouble
finding men for this dangerous work?

No on the contrary,
we have short days and good pay.

The men up above get er two dollars
fifty cents for eight hours work,

and the men down below get two dollars
ten cents for four hours work.

So we get all the men we need.

Even on the shorter shifts men
were suffering from paralysis

and excruciating pain
when they retuned to the surface.

The exact cause was a mystery.

There are several cases of paralysis
of considerable severity.

But they all recover from
three days to three weeks.

And from fifty feet in depth downward
severe pains in the arms and legs

become more frequent called
by the men the Grecian bends,

because the onset often finds
the men bent double with pain.

A physician has been employed
to spend one to four hours per day here.

This disease is entirely manmade.

We have invented the structures
and conditions which cause it.

Case four, Patrick O`Farrell.

On going down in to the caisson
pain in the frontal sinus.

Case six, John Rhodes,
dizziness and nauseousness.

The cases mounted.

Feet cold, head hot, unable to stand.

Dr Smith kept note of the deadly symptoms.

Case eight, Samuel Mitchell.

Pain in upper and lower extremities.

Giddiness and vomiting,
paralysis of the left.

Case thirteen, Henry Stratton.

Dizziness and vomiting, severe pain.

As the depth increased the symptoms
became more severe.

Pain in the limbs followed
by a swollen extreme...

Then despite their efforts
one of the men died.

The first fatal case has taken place
at a depth of seventy five feet

from congestion of the lungs.

The man was recently
employed of a very full habit,

had worked but one shift
of two and a half hours.

On coming up he felt well
but died an hour afterwards.

On examination two days
before his lungs were sound.

One important conclusion
from the records kept is this,

that the greater majority of those men

who have retained their health
were wiry somewhat spare men.

But almost all of the sick were
fleshy men of a full or large size.

Clearly it is the action of compressed air
which causes the symptoms

but apart from shortening
the shifts or selecting only men

who are lean and healthy
what is to be done?

Caisson has now gone down eighty feet.

Result is as feared.

The pressure is hazardous.

Men are sick and they`re dying.

With an increased pressure the number
of working hours must be diminished.

What more can we do?

Another fatal case has been reported.

The case is yet to be examined.

He was at once carried up to the surface
...in an unconscious condition.

Face pale and dusky, lips blue.

This is the third death now.

No one feels safe,
the men are all suffering.

And now the progress is halted.

They`re not moving at all in the caisson.

They`ve reached a level of
compacted sand that is so hard,

so heavy that it`s blunting their tools.

lt`s not the bedrock
my husband was looking for

but if he carries on more people will die.

He has to make a decision.

Washington had to make
an agonising calculation.

Try to reach bedrock and
lose even more of his men

or let the tower rest
on the compacted sand.

Men hold the work.

Men we have worked to our limit.

This could take another year.

Countless more lives.

This compacted sand is like concrete,
it hasn`t shifted in thousands of years.

Therefore it is my belief that
it is adequate for our needs.

lf he was wrong the towers
could lean or even fall.

And he would be responsible.

After two years of exhausting work,
much of it spent in compressed air,

Washington succumbed
once more to the bends.

Holding here,
put him on the naving. Quickly!

He was nearly insensible.

All that night we thought
he was going to die.

Washington`s health was shattered.

He and Emily retired to the family house
in Trenton, New Jersey,

hoping a rest would help him.

He refused to give up his role as
Chief Engineer despite his sickness.

l am not well enough to attend
the meetings of the board

as l can only talk for a few moments at
a time and can not listen to conversation

if it is continued very long.

l`m able to be out of
my room occasionally.

l believe there is not a day
when l do not do some work for the bridge.

The physicians hope that living outdoors,

away from the city
may lessen the irritation

to the nerves of my face and head.

My assistants` do the work
assigned them with perfect confidence,

the interests of the bridge in no way
suffer from my being here.

Man is after all a very finite
being in his capacities

and powers to do actual work.

But when it comes to planning one mind

can in a few hours think out enough work
to keep a thousand employed for years.

Continuing to work is with me
a matter of pride and honour.

Thank you.

Unsure how much time he had left,

Washington dictated detailed instructions
for his assistants back at the bridge.

Probably no great work has
ever been conducted by a man

who has to labour under
so many disadvantages.

Though l think between the two of us
we can get this bridge built.

Emily supported him.

She taught herself higher mathematics
and the details of engineering.

lf he should die there would be
someone to see the project

through and interpret his plans.

Day after day,
when she can be spared from the sickroom,

devoted wife exchanges
duties of chief nurse

for those of chief engineer of the bridge.

Explaining difficult points,
examining results for herself.

Thus she establishes the most
perfect means of communication,

between the structure and it`s honour.

None of this can be accomplished

but for the unselfish devotion
of the assistant engineers.

She has applied her remarkable mind to
the acquisition of the higher mathematics.

Each man has a certain
department in charge

and he works with all his energies to see
that the work is properly carried out

according to Colonel Roebling`s
plans and issues.

She has dazzled us with her complete

and intelligent understanding of
the Colonel`s theories and plans.

As my husband once remarked in happier
times the bridge will depend on diligence,

hard work and loyalty.

Eventually when both towers
were completed,

the first wire was strung
from one side to the other.

The first wire rope reached its position
at eleven and one half o`clock,

was raised in six minutes, WHP.

This is a moment he`s waited for so long,
and he was too ill, he missed it.

Poor Wash, it`s just too hard.

Two weeks later at a high-spirited
ceremony, Farmington, the master mechanic,

swung across the river in a boson`s chair.

Mr Farrington was keen to show
the rigging workers

how the thin rope
could support a man`s weight.

He was the first man ever to cross
the East River by bridge.

By all accounts it was quite an occasion.

The view was tremendous.

l`m not likely to experience
anything like that again, that`s for sure.

Next they started to string the giant
cables across the river strand by strand,

three hundred feet in the air.

There is something colossal
in the look of the East River piers

as they show in the morning sunlight.

The ropes already connecting
the two piers seem like slender threads.

And as the vessels pass and re-pass
under them some idea may be formed of

what may be the effect when the graceful
upper wire structure is completed.

With the roadways crowded with passengers
and vehicles of all descriptions,

and the high masted clippers and
coasting traders passing underneath.

But Washington had suffered
an unexpected setback.

Although the family firm
John Roebling & Sons was well known

as the finest makers of
wire cable in the company

they were barred from
the bridge job on the pretext

that it would be a conflict of interest.

l am very strongly opposed
for the Roeblings`

having anything to do with the filling
of contracts for this bridge.

Here, here.

Particularly the contract
for the supply of wire cable.

Absolutely.

l`m the only man living with the practical
experience to build those great cables

and make every wire bear its share.

lnstead the job went to
a Brooklyn contractor

with close financial links
to the board members.

And now we are forced to deal
with a known cheat and a rogue.

He`s known to be dishonest
in his business dealings

and has a reputation here
in Brooklyn as a womaniser.

Over the next year the contractor
sent wire for the great cables.

Which were spun back and forth
across the river strand by strand.

Then one of the cables snapped.

Two bridge men were killed,
another three seriously injured.

And the strand was lost.

Washington had always been suspicious
about the quality of the wire.

Now he sent inspectors
to take random samples.

These checks showed that rotten wire
was being smuggled through,

for twining in to the cables.

lt`s as brittle as glass.

How much of the same brittle wire

has been going in to the cable
without our knowledge?

lt`s worthless, and the most dangerous
material that could have been employed.

l see but one way of preventing
such wire being run out.

Double the number of inspectors
at the contractor`s works.

A watch was set and the trick discovered.

The wagon load of wire
as it left the inspector

with his certificate was driven
around the corner to a yard

and rapidly unloaded and
replaced with rejected wire.

This bad wire then went with
the certificate to the bridge.

The bad wire had already
been woven in to the giant cables

and could not be removed.

The most distressing point of this affair
is that all the rejected wire

that has come to the bridge
has been worked...

...in to the cables and
can not be removed.

How to ascertain the total quantity
is a difficult task.

An engineer who has not been educated

as a spy or a detective
is no match for a rascal.

Thank God Washington and his father
built in enough safety margin.

They designed the cable to be
six times stronger than necessary

so even with the bad cable
it will still be four times stronger.

He says they`ll hold.

At last the contract to provide steel wire
went to the Roebling company.

But Washington had made powerful enemies.

He supervised the final
stages of construction

from the windows of the family house
in Brooklyn Heights.

But his role as chief engineer
was soon under threat.

Newspaper reports claimed
he had lost his mind.

Oh just listen to this.

He is suffering from a nervous disease
which baffles all medical skill.

At times he loses all control over
his mind and is really as one dead,

at other times he`s able to understand
all that is said to him.

lf he ever recovers it will not be
before the bridge is finished.

That`s ridiculous.

Listen to this,
every day it`s the same thing.

l declare the Great East River bridge
in peril because it has no head.

Because its wires of control run
in to a closely guarded sick room.

The engineering part of the structure,

the most important is
in the hands of a sick man.

Gentlemen it is time we found
ourselves a new Chief Engineer.

With less than a year to go

they wish to dispense with Washington
and make him a consultant.

l do not propose to dance
attendance to the trustees.

l didn`t do it when l was well.

l can only do my work by
maintaining my independence.

l almost have to shed tears when l recall
the very cruel way we were treated.

l was struggling to finish the bridge

and save my husband`s life
and reason from the fierce onslaught.

Washington`s life is the bridge.

This is what he`s living for,
if you take away that you have nothing.

And still even with him ill,
unable to see, unable to write at days,

he can create this bridge

and he has poured more of himself
in to it than any other man could,

and some other engineer taking over,
that`s ridiculous.

We have built it together,

we have created this bridge together
and they will not be taking him off it.

And in summary he says,

`lf l live long enough to direct
the important work still to be done,

l know it will be finished cheaper
and better than it would be

if left to some engineer
who has not had my experience.`

Emily mobilised support for Washington.

At an extraordinary meeting she addressed
the American Society of Civil Engineers.

The first woman ever to do so.

Then at a crucial board meeting
Washington`s future was put to the vote.

The subject is too important
for sentiment,

and the bridge needs the attention
of a man in his best power.

As a bridge builder he has not had
his equal on the face of the earth.

l defy contradiction.

l for one would take
my arm off my shoulder

before l would permit myself
to vote against a man

without blemish upon
his character or ability.

He has not kept
the bridge back for a moment.

lt would be mean and contemptible to
blame him, and l don`t propose to do it.

The vote has been carried
in Washington`s favour,

by seven to ten, he will retain
his title as Chief Engineer.

l should be very glad
when we come to the end of this business

and l have a chance to take
Washington from all this.

Within the year the bridge was finished.

Celebrations were memorable and emotional.

John Roebling sacrificed
his life for the bridge.

His son too entered our service,
young full of hope and life,

yet he too was struck down
by caisson`s disease.

Roebling may never walk across the bridge

as so many of his fellow men
have done today.

One name however can not be
passed over here in silence.

The name of Emily Roebling will be
forever inseparably associated with all

that is admirable in human nature

and all that is wonderful
in the constructive world of art.

l feel like the story is over now.

The bridge has been built,

and the Roebling name is
still attached to it, as it should be.

l see our life
there in this beautiful piece of art.

lt`s our family there.

And people might just go
and walk across it,

and some people might go and look at it.

Will they know the story of us?

l don`t know.

But l will, l`ll know how it was made
and l`ll know who made it

and l`ll know who died for it,
and that`s enough, that`s enough.

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