Bridges become frames for looking at the world around us.     

-Bruce Jackson

A bridge is a meeting place - a possibility, a metaphor.

-Jeanette Winterson

​

After their father died, two brothers split his lands and settled into adjacent farms. For many years they farmed side by side, sharing the machinery and helping each other whenever they could. Eventually, the older brother, John, and Joshua, the younger, had a misunderstanding. What began as a small disagreement escalated into a serious rift. Eventually it went nuclear and then became a war of silence.

 

One day, John answered a knock on his door and found a little old man with an even older toolbox. “I’m looking for work,” he said. “Do you have any jobs I could do?” “I do,” said John. “See that creek with the farm on the other side? That’s my neighbor, actually, my younger brother. Last week it was a meadow, but he bulldozed it under, and now it’s running water. He did this to spite me, but I want you to take that lumber over by the barn and build me an 8-foot fence. That way, I won’t have to see his place or his face, ever again!” “I’ll do a job that’ll make you happy.” said the old man...

 

All day long, the old man measured, sawed and nailed. When John returned at dusk, the carpenter was done. John looked, but there was no fence! From one side of the creek to the other, there was a beautiful bridge, complete with handrails. John looked up to see his brother Joshua coming across the bridge. Teary eyed, the younger man hugged him and said, “John, you’re a better man than I. After all that I’ve done, you built this bridge.” After embracing they turned to see the carpenter placing his toolbox up on his shoulder. They both implored him to stay and do more work for them, but the old man declined. “Thank you, I’d love to stay,” he said, “but I still have many more bridges to build.”

 

Whether to cross a moat, peninsula or island, a bridge is often needed. There are the Verrazano, Golden Gate, Mackinac, 59th St. bridges and the bridge over the River Kwai. I know about the Bridge Over Trouble Waters and London Bridge. My favorite bridge is in the Upper Peninsula over the Cut River. It’s a short river and not very wide, but it allows highway US 2 to continue, 147 feet above the valley it traverses.  No matter the depth or width of the river, we need bridges. At their most basic identity, bridges let people share in the exchange of ideas and locales. They connect different people and different places, enabling connection and opportunity.

Often, building a bridge where it seems like a wall is needed is counter-intuitive, paradoxical even. Even when it seems like a barrier, partition, barricade or obstacle is called for, consider building a bridge.

 

I would rather lie facedown on the ground

and use my body as a bridge,

than stand proud and tall

and use my body as a wall.

― Kamand Kojouri