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Two brothers. Two bridges. One bridge for the motor traffic (cars and trucks) and the other for the railroad.
Big brother Ted and little Johnny (that would be me) were just kids with our bikes. when brother Ted determined that it would be fun to cross the bridge reserved for the railroad.
We made it halfway across...when suddenly the sound of the train, the big black engine pulling many rail cars. It was moving across the bridge and likely did not see us. Brother Ted had a plan. We would crawl over the railing and with one arm hang onto the bridge while the other arm would allow us to hold onto our bikes. We would simply have to do this - until the train safely passed by. Little Johnny cried and shook. Yes, I was scared.
Brother Ted reassured me that all was well. The train was gone,
we got back onto the tracks and continued with our bikes until we were off the bridge. As a momento Ted placed a single penny on the tracks, which was wider and flatter when the train was gone.
And to this day, when I drive over the motor bridge I look up at that railway trestle bridge and still shiver with the thought that as we hung onto that bridge some years ago....the river was roaring below....and I guess that is something we just didn't think about. Two brothers. Two bridges.