Another memory...
My First Failure.
I was 22 (seriously... i had never failed before, at least when i actually tried).
I was driving home from a friend's house after the sunday nite ritual of fencing/TV watching. As i crossed the Hoan Bridge (more affectionately known as the "Bridge to Nowhere" back then), I saw a car on the shoulder of the opposite lanes near the summit of the long arching span. A white Mercury Cougar (egzactky like zees one). I don't know what made me look harder, other than the location... Maybe I found it odd that someone would have car trouble and stop there, you would be able to coast down the hill to St. Francis from there. As I passed, I spotted a bright yellow Hilfiger coat. On a person. Standing on the rail.
Having nowhere to turn around, and no way to cross to the other side (there was a 5-foot gap between the NB and SB lanes), I floored it to the next exit exited and re-entered the freeway, and returned to the scene. As I pulled up, I saw a woman wearing above mentioned coat. I got out of my car and approached.
"Uh, hi."
"Hello," she replied.
"My name's Eric"
"I'm *****"
(I can't remember what name she gave, and it's irrelevant. It wasn't her real name.) At this point, another vehicle pulled up. The driver was holding a cell phone.
"I'll be right back," I said.
I approached the newcomer. He claimed he was calling the police and wanted to know if she was going to jump. I told him I would assume so.
I returned. I spoke with her a while, mostly small talk (what do you say to someone on the wrong side of the rail? I sure as fuck didn't know...). After a while, more people arrived, including the police. They took over the talking, and i listened in as long as I could. It was an interesting situation, and I couldn't tear myself away. It turns out she was on the bridge because she was facing jail time for hiring someone to beat her abusive husband to a pulp. The thug had rolled on her, and her abusive husband and the thug both were facing less jail time than she was.
"Hmmm..." I thought. "Pity they didn't bring a woman cop."
I was ushered back to my car, along with the other bystanders, and told to leave. I left. I tried to find a location from which to view the drama (not for some sick, voyeuristic reason, but because I felt for the poor woman. I wanted to see her talked down), but the police had the neighborhood pretty well cordoned off. I drove home.
I called the sherriff's department a couple of days later to see what had happened. The dispatcher on the other end flippantly claimed that the woman had jumped and survived. A poor attempt at a lie, in my opinion. I honestly can't bring myself to believe that someone would survive a jump from that height...
My First Failure.
I was 22 (seriously... i had never failed before, at least when i actually tried).
I was driving home from a friend's house after the sunday nite ritual of fencing/TV watching. As i crossed the Hoan Bridge (more affectionately known as the "Bridge to Nowhere" back then), I saw a car on the shoulder of the opposite lanes near the summit of the long arching span. A white Mercury Cougar (egzactky like zees one). I don't know what made me look harder, other than the location... Maybe I found it odd that someone would have car trouble and stop there, you would be able to coast down the hill to St. Francis from there. As I passed, I spotted a bright yellow Hilfiger coat. On a person. Standing on the rail.
Having nowhere to turn around, and no way to cross to the other side (there was a 5-foot gap between the NB and SB lanes), I floored it to the next exit exited and re-entered the freeway, and returned to the scene. As I pulled up, I saw a woman wearing above mentioned coat. I got out of my car and approached.
"Uh, hi."
"Hello," she replied.
"My name's Eric"
"I'm *****"
(I can't remember what name she gave, and it's irrelevant. It wasn't her real name.) At this point, another vehicle pulled up. The driver was holding a cell phone.
"I'll be right back," I said.
I approached the newcomer. He claimed he was calling the police and wanted to know if she was going to jump. I told him I would assume so.
I returned. I spoke with her a while, mostly small talk (what do you say to someone on the wrong side of the rail? I sure as fuck didn't know...). After a while, more people arrived, including the police. They took over the talking, and i listened in as long as I could. It was an interesting situation, and I couldn't tear myself away. It turns out she was on the bridge because she was facing jail time for hiring someone to beat her abusive husband to a pulp. The thug had rolled on her, and her abusive husband and the thug both were facing less jail time than she was.
"Hmmm..." I thought. "Pity they didn't bring a woman cop."
I was ushered back to my car, along with the other bystanders, and told to leave. I left. I tried to find a location from which to view the drama (not for some sick, voyeuristic reason, but because I felt for the poor woman. I wanted to see her talked down), but the police had the neighborhood pretty well cordoned off. I drove home.
I called the sherriff's department a couple of days later to see what had happened. The dispatcher on the other end flippantly claimed that the woman had jumped and survived. A poor attempt at a lie, in my opinion. I honestly can't bring myself to believe that someone would survive a jump from that height...
clunk:
