Three Cheers for the Bridge
by Jane E. Smith

The Kingston Rhinecliff Bridge (KRB) opened for business on a cold Groundhog Day 50 years ago when Miss Nancy Ruth Heppner took her scissors to the ceremonial ribbon. The photograph that ran in The Rhinebeck Gazette shows a pretty young woman whose swing coat and white gloves make her appear older than her 13 years. Maybe it was a coincidence, but Nancy's age matched the number of years it took to plan and build the bridge.

It almost didn't happen. Despite the best efforts of State Senator Arthur Wicks and Assemblyman Ernest Hatfield (the former from Ulster County, the latter from Dutchess), it took three years to convince Governor Thomas E. Dewey that the bridge was necessary and worth the expense. Folks on either side of the Hudson, who remembered too well the years during World War II when ferry service had been discontinued, didn't care how much it cost. Besides, using public transportation in the age of the automobile — a ferry, for heaven's sake — seemed awfully pokey for an area with a new Thruway and IBM.

It's hard now to imagine a time when we had to work, live, and shop on the same side of the river, and depend on the telephone and letters to keep tabs on friends and kin on the other. And it's hard to imagine life without that staggering view from the bridge. To celebrate its half-century of service to our region, here are a few interesting facts about the KRB, past and present.

The View
In 1957, Frederic Snyder, a professional lecturer from Kingston, opined that the KRB was like a "great front porch, from which one can... witness a great drama in the theatre of nature." Carol Petersen, bridge manager for 21 years, wishes that present-day drivers wouldn't get similarly carried away. Despite all those "NO STANDING" signs, motorists often pull over and pull out cameras. She says it's understandable, though. The KRB is a self-effacing bridge, no cables or trusses in sight, nothing to get between you and that mind-blowing mid-Hudson beauty. Peterson says the absence of visible support has had the opposite effect for people with gephyrophobia, a fear of crossing bridges. An inexorable sense of dread makes their stomachs go wobbly, their hearts beat double quick, and their heads feel unscrewed.

Bridge Builders
Among the men who raised the KRB were American Indian steelworkers, mostly Mohawks from northern New York, Ontario, and Quebec famed for their ability to stroll along skinny I-beams 70 storeys above the ground without batting an eye. The construction of the bridge claimed one life, that of a Mohawk man.

The Engineer
A boy with imagination who grew up in the shadow of the Brooklyn Bridge, David Steinman (1886? 1960), turned out to be an engineer with a special knack for suspension bridges. His most famous bridge is one of the world's longest: the five-mile-long Mackinac Bridge that connects Michigan's upper and lower peninsulas. When Steinman died, he was dreaming up plans for a bridge that would sail over the Straits of Messina, linking mainland Italy with Sicily, an idea that has beguiled engineers since the Roman Empire. History may remember Steinman as one of the great American bridge designers, but in later years he turned to verse. "A bridge is a poem stretched across a river," he wrote, "a symphony of stone and steel."

That Toll
Just what is that toll for? It turns out that the $1 you hand the toll collector keeps the bridge in commission. The self-sustaining KRB, which is operated by the New York State Bridge Authority (NYSBA), receives not a penny from the taxes we pay the state. NYSBA was Governor Franklin D. Roosevelt's idea, hatched during the Great Depression, as a way to build and operate bridges when the state was too broke to do the job itself. (NYSBA tends all five mid-Hudson bridges, the others being the Bear Mountain, the Mid-Hudson, the Rip Van Winkle, and the Newburgh Beacon.) The KRB has been toll-less for exactly four hours, right after the ribbon cutting in 1957. Local wit Mikhail Horowitz, who dreams of a free ride across the KRB, has set a new verse to the tune of "We Shall Overcome":

Kingston Rhinecliff Bridge
Kingston Rhinecliff Bridge
Kingston Rhinecliff Bridge, toll free-eee-eee
Oh Lordy deep in my car
(I know that) I do believe
Kingston Rhinecliff Bridge, toll free.

The Name
Some pushed for "The Martin Van Buren Bridge," after the Kinderhook native and eighth president of the United States. Others held out for the Livingston family, whose most eminent member, Robert R., helped draft the Declaration of Independence. (In the famous John Trumbull painting, you could see more than Livingston's head if Jefferson weren't taking up so much room.) In the end, the bridge got named after the Kingston Rhinecliff Ferry, which ceased operation the day the KRB opened. Almost no one calls the bridge by its newest, official name, conferred in 1999 — "The George Clinton Kingston Rhinecliff Bridge." This George Clinton is not the founder of the funk band Parliament, but rather the politician who was the first governor of New York and vice president to Thomas Jefferson and James Madison.

The Toll Collector
During toll collector Barbara Kelly's very first week at the KRB, a car caught fire on the bridge. When she learned that the fire had been caused by the overenthusiastic use of a hibachi in the back seat, she wondered what other examples of human folly her new job would introduce her to. Kelly, who has now worked for the KRB for 19 years, has added a few to the list — motorcyclists who store tolls in their mouths, drivers with no duds on (seasonal only) — but she loves her job. "Sunshine on your face, snow on the trees — it's a lot better than being stuck in an office."

The Peregrines
In the late 1970s, when the peregrine falcon looked to be going the way of the dodo, wildlife volunteers worked with NYSBA and the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation to build nesting boxes under the KRB and the other mid-Hudson bridges. They've been full ever since. The bridge reminds the raptors of a cliff ledge, their natural breeding site, which gives fledglings plenty of room to brake when they're trying out their wings. Though some populations migrate, our bridge peregines stay home year-round.

To learn more about the KRB, take a look at Kathryn Burke's Hudson River Bridges, just out from Arcadia Publishing.