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SOS - SEARCHING OUT STORIES about Bridges
~~Advice/References - Storytellers, Teachers, Librarians





SOS - SEARCHING OUT STORIES about Bridges
Advice, Discussion and References from Storytellers, Teachers, Librarians
(excerpts from Storytell posts plus original research)

Book titles and online links are in blue and underlined. Click on them for more stories / information.
To retell any stories, get permission from the copyright holder if the material is not in the public domain.
In performance, always credit your sources.
Storytell posts are added chronologically as they are received by Story Lovers World.


1) As part of the research for "Bridges" one of our forum members found out that in Israel, not far from Beer-Sheba there is a bridge from no where to no where. It was built when the Turks occupied this land and it was part of their attempt to reach Egypt, which they never managed to because they were stopped by the British. Anyway, today it stands as the bridge from no where to no where. We were wondering - do any of you know about such bridges in other places in the world?
Limor S.

2) In Louisiana there is 'The Sunshine Bridge" starts in a field and ends in another, a huge high bridge to nowhere, people ride across it for fun. Built in former govenor Jimmie Davis's district. This govenor's main claim to fame was being the composer of the song "You Are My Sunshine" hence the bridge's name.
Jane D.

3) But, of course! In Waukegan, Illinois there is such a bridge on the Amstutz Expressway. At least, there was one when I was young, I don't know if it is still there. The good citizens were building an expressway, when the money gave out. The bridge goes up, but doesn't go down. If you watch the movie "The Blues Brothers", it figures promentently in the scene where Henry Gibson drives off the bridge. (The bridge that the Blues Brothers jump is thirty miles south)
Margaret S.

4) There are several bridges like this on Staten Island, New York - and a half-bridge along Interstate 95 just south of Baltimore, Maryland - all in the U.S.
Then there's the business of singing bridges, which is
metaphorically interesting - take a look:
http://www.singingbridges.net/about/
Patti D.

5) I always liked the exit signs I saw during my childhood that said "FUTURE"...
Sebastian M.

6) Just bridges? Go to Seattle, the floating bridges on the lake, and the memory of the galloping bridge over Puget Sound!
Dvora S.

7) When we were in Portland last summer, the teacher who was driving one of the vans was terrified of bridges. The passenger's assignment was to talk her through it -- it helps to have lots of stories in stock.
Mary G.

8) How well I remember the galloping bridge! I was about 3 or 4 years old when I saw a newsreel on our home projector that showed the bridge as it began to gallop and then fell down. There was a man and a dog in a car. The man got off -- but as far as I could tell, the dog did not. I was frightened and anxious every time I went over a bridge for many many years afterward. I was such a stoic child that I never told anyone about my fear or its origin. But, I still remember the newsreel.
Mary G.

.....Response: It still gives me the creeps going over the new bridge and I often just take the ferry instead!
.....Allison C.

9) The Royal Gorge bridge in in Colorado is the world's highest suspension bridge and, while I suppose you would have to say it is FROM somewhere (somewhere obviously not very memorable!), it GOES nowhere. You cross over it, turn around, and come back. It is over 1,000 feet above the Arkansas River and a quarter mile long. It was built just to show they could do it, and the boast is that there was no loss of life during the building of it. These days folks keep adding theme park rides, petting zoos, trains, tramways, restaurants, and motels and suchlike to it, so lots of people go there to go nowhere and end up spending all day there--or longer.

For Limor and others who didn't take US Geography in 5th grade, Colorado is one of our scenic ski-resort western states, home to the Rocky Mountains, Pike's Peak and part of the Grand Canyon. The Arkansas River has nothing to do with Arkansas, the state; we just named it that to keep 5th graders on their toes. We actually did that to the Colorado River, too--not the Colorado Colorado River, but the other Colorado River which is in Texas. Also, the Royal Gorge is not actually Royal, though.
Mary Grace K.

10) When I was 20 and attending college some 80 miles north of Pittsburgh, my roommate invited me to her home in the eastern suburbs one weekend. She and her mother enjoyed giving me a tour, which of course included Downtown's Golden Triangle, which is between the Allegheny and Monongehela Rivers. These form the Ohio at the Point, where there is a park, Point Park, containing a fountain and the remains of Fort Duquesne, now a museum. One of the most dramatic introductions to the city is to come out of the Fort Pitt tunnel at night and see the glittering city lights and the lighted fountain in warm months (a Christmas tree is set up over it at the holidays). They also took me over the Fort Duquesne Bridge from Downtown to the North Side, and Betsy casually remarked, "There's the Bridge to Nowhere!" It was actually an unfinished exit from that bridge, meant to connect to an elevated highway that would parallel the Allegheny River on the North Side, but they had run out of money.

That was about 35 years ago....about 7 years ago, as they began developing what is now called the North Shore area (the Warhol Museum, Heinz Field (football), PNC Park (baseball), etc., the elevated highway link was finally built. John is a baseball fanatic, so he was very excited about PNC Park, and the first time we went over to see it (and the fabulous view of Downtown from it), he was burbling happily. While I agreed that it is a very nice stadium, I was kind of sorry that the Birdge to Nowhere no longer exists here--I won't get into my opinion of a city government that insisted on demolishing Three Rivers Stadium which wasn't completely paid for yet even though it was the home of both the Pirates and the Steelers for a long time....BTW, did you know that Allegheny County has more bridges than Venice
does?
Barra the Bard

11) That reminds me of the very famous bridge outside Avignon, as in the song
Sur le pont d'Avignon,
L'on y danse, l'on y danse,
Sur le pont d'Avignon
L'on y danse tout en rond. ...

Even though I've been to the very wonderful town of Avignon and to the bridge, I don't know its story. However, it's long been a bridge that goes nowhere because there's only part of it left. It did go from outside the fortified walls to over the river, but now it reaches half way across the river and stops. It's left there as a major tourist attraction and subject for the local painters, while a later bridge does all the work of carrying people right across the river. Avignon, in the south of France, was the home of the Popes for quite some time while Rome was too dangerous for them, and is full of huge squares and a great palace. It also has a much more modern collection of fantastic trompe l'oeil murals in many of the bricked-up windows of town houses, and is home to one of the biggest and best arts/performance festivals every July.
Tim S.

12) Try Spinning Tales, Weaving Hope: Stories, Storytelling, and Activities for Peace, Justice and the Environment, ed. by Brody, Goldspinner etc. Pub/ by New Society Publishers. Also Margaret Read McDonald's Peace Tales. It contains the wonderful story of two former friends who have an argument. One hires a carpenter to build a strong fence on the prroperty line, but the carpenter builds a bridge instead. The other farmer sees this as a friendly gesture and the fight is over. In "Cricket Magazine," there is a wonderful story called "Kenji Moto" about a crippled man who saves the village and is invited into their homes because of his bravery. Sorry I can't help with month and date, I cut it out. Call Cricket.
Sue T.

13) The first story that comes to my mind has versions in China, Japan, and Vietnam -- about the weaving princess and her mortal shepherd lover. Because they neglect their duties they are sent to opposite sides of the Milky Way (Silver River) but are allowed to reunite once each year. Blackbirds (or crows, depending on the version) disappear from the countryside and fly up to create a bridge across the Milky Way so that they can join. Sad, but definitely a love story. I'll look through my folders for print references.
Jan

14) Have just caught up with your willow request and have been reading some of the replies. I have my willow plate before me now and would like to tell my version.
Story:
The emperor had arranged for his daughter to be married off to a very old and ugly merchant who was of course very rich and who would further cement the emperor's power. His daughter though was in love with the gardener who tended the emperors'garden(that area fenced off from the figures). The young lovers were forbidden to meet each other but as all good stories go they disregarded the emperor's wishes.The emperor found out and had the gardener banished and a wall built around the garden, The emperor and the old merchant were celebrating the forthcoming union. Meanwhile the
princess and young man had arranged to elope, she ran to the bridge, he standing in the boat below urged her to jump, while the emperor and old man ran towards them. She jumped into the water and the gardener jumped in to save her. Of course neither could swim and both drowned, while from out the waters came the two bluebirds together for eternity.

I use this story in school when introducing tanagrams, (the traditional 7 piece tanagram can be rearranged to make the story (emperor, old man etc) each child's work can then be collected and put together as the whole story.
Neville B.
Perth Australia

15) Camels tis Epiphany (Jan6.)
Story:
,,,,And this one, which is a folktale: A camel and a donkey both ran away from their masters, who gave them too much work and too little food. The two runaways met not far from the city they had run from, and decided that they would stay together, and go into the desert. There was little food and water
there, but they had received little from their masters, and at least they would be free to do what they wished, and would not have to carry heavy loads. One day they heard something in the distance -- the sound of many little bells. . They soon realized that the sound came from a caravan traveling across the desert. "Now we must be very still, for if the men in the caravan see us, they will catch us and force us once again to carry their loads or be beaten. Keep very quiet," said the camel, and the two animals lay hidden behind some brush and sand. As the caravan came near them the tinkling of the bells became louder and clearer, and the donkey began to fidget. "Oh, how I love that music!" he said. "Whenever I hear that sound I have an urge to sing -- it's so beautiful, so --" "Keep quiet! Control your urge! You know what will happen if you make any noise, don't you?" But his sensible advice was of no avail. The donkey could cantain himself no longer, and brayed out his donkey music with all his might. Naturally the men of the caravan came running to see which of their donkeys had escaped. What was their delight to find not a stray, but two masterless animals. At once they tied them up, and when the caravan set out again, put loads on both of them. The donkey, however, when he felt the load rest on his back, sank to the ground as if fainting. The drivers thought that he was weak from lack of food and care, so they loaded him carefully on the camel's back. "A fine trick I played them," murmured the donkey in the camel's ear, So the camel had to carry his friend across the sand, along with the load the drivers had already put on his back. After many hours of travel the caravan came to a wadi which cut through the desert, and had to go single file across a narrow wooden bridge with a rope guard rail. When the camel began to cross the swaying bridge, he cried out, "Oh, how I love that rhythm! Whenever I feel the swaying of a bridge, I have an urge to dance, it is so beautiful -- " The donkey let out a great hee-haw of alarm and said, "What are you talking about? Keep still! Is THIS a time to dance?" But the camel answered him sternly, "And was THAT a time to sing?" and rearing up on his hind feet, gracefully let his burden slide from his back,down -- down -- down into the wadi.
Lois T.

16) There is also a Dutch version of this story.
Story:
Jesus and Petrus are walking along a river and Petrus claims to have seen a rabbit as big as a man. But when Jesus tells him that in a while they have to cross the bridge of Liars, Petrus is telling that perhaps the rabbit was not as big as he said and he keeps doing that nearing the bridge and at last he has seen a rabbit as big as rabbits mostly are.
I read the story in a book called "Flemish Stories" by Geert van Istendaele
Frans the Vette

17) A friend of mine has published a folktale, but she wrote it long ago and has no references for it. It is called "The Bridge of Liars." She needs two references for it to be placed in an anthology of folktales. The story is about a rabbit who claims his country produces the largest rabbits in the world. One of his companions says they are coming to the bridge of liars, and anyone not telling the truth who crosses it will cause the bridge to collapse. The rabbit then keeps changing his story.
http://www.thefreelibrary.com/The+bridge+of+liars-a020443395
http://www.stillscenes.com/Archive%20pages/Liars.html
http://www.highlightskids.com/Stories/Fiction/F0498_bridgeof.asp
Joyce G.

18) A suggestion for all who seek a story, song, whatever: keep something more descriptive in the title. On the same day we had at least 2 searches & just finished a few more with this sort of title.

I don't personally know this story, although I think I will read it now, but Margaret Read MacDonald's Storytellers Sourcebook: A Subject, Title, and Motif Index to Folklore Collections for Children, 1983-1999 has it in her listing of Humor of Lies & Exaggerations section. The story she mentions is from Mirra Ginsburg's Three Rolls and One Doughnut, Fables From Russia, pub. by Dial in 1970.

MacDonald describes it this way:
"Soon we're coming to the bridge that breaks down under liars." Twenty pound hare gets smaller as they get nearer. Bridge doesn't appear. "It melted away like the fat on your rabbit." (Found on pages 3-5 of MG's book, where I checked it & found a bragging rich man & a poor peasant.)
LoiS

19) I told Molly Whuppie to a group of 2nd-graders last Wednesday, and it was like seeing an old friend. I learned "Molly" to fulfill an assignment in graduate school years ago, and hadn't told it again since. Reviewing it brought up surprises. Good heavens, I've changed since 1984! (hee hee)

But some things haven't changed. When Molly is standing on the other side of the Bridge of the One Hair, and the giant has just said, "Woe betide ye, Molly Whuppie, if you e'er come back again!", Molly replies, "Maybe twice more I'll come to see you, if so be I come to Spain." When I get to this part in the story, I still go "Huh? What does Spain have to do with anything?"

I know that not all versions have Molly and the giant saying these sentences, but this version, which I found in Womenfolk and Fairy Tales by Rosemary Minard, is the one I like best, for myself. When I
told it last week, I had the giant go "Huh?" and Molly just laughed and ran back to the king.

That worked okay, but the scholarly part of me is still wondering about "if so be I come to Spain." Can anyone shed some light on this for me?
Hope B.

20) From Green Willow & Other Japanese Fairy Tales by Grace James, illus. by Warwick Goble, Macmillan & Co., London, 1910.
"The Star Lovers"
The Weaving Maiden was the daughter of a Deity of Light. Her dwelling was upon the shore of the Milky Way, which is the Bright River of Heaven. She wove all day long every day and never stopped for she had heard a saying that sorrow would come upon her if she stopped. She wove beautiful garments for everyone else but neglected herself terribly and had no pleasure in her life. Her father finally dressed her in rich attire and ordered her out of the house to seek some pleasure in her life. For a husband, he gave her the Herd Boy of Heaven, who tended his flocks upon the banks of the Bright River. The girl was in so in love and laughed so much that the very gods laughed with her and high heaven re-echoed with the sounds of mirth. She never went near her loom, vowing to live her life to the fullest, never weaving again. Her father got angry and regretted his decision, warning his daughter three times and finally banishing the Herd Boy to the far side of the Bright River. The Weaving Maiden was the saddest thing in Heaven. She went back to her loom and took up the shuttle, but she had changed. She now wove her dreams and her tears into the garments, which sometimes were grey with grief and sometimes rosy with dreams. Her father was pleased but refused to give her back her lover. Finally, he relented and promised that on the seventh day of the seventh moon he would summon all the magpies in Heaven to form a bridge so that she could cross over to her waiting Herd Boy lover. As she crossed, her eyes were like stars and her heart like a bird. And so it is today that on the seventh day of the seventh moon, the two star lovers always keep their tryst unless rain falls with thunder and clouds and hail, and the Bright River of Heaven is swollen and swift, and the magpies cannot make a bridge for the Weaving Maiden... and that is why true lovers pray to the gods for fair weather.
Jackie B.

21) "The Miller, the Boy and the Donkey" (from Aesop's Fables: Complete, Original Translation from Greek (Forgotten Books).
A miller & his son were once leading their donkey to market. The donkey was carrying the grain. Passersby remarked that the miller was wrong to let his son walk. The miller promptly put his son on the donkey. Some others commented that the boy was riding while his father walked, surely this was a sign of how the younger generation had no respect for their parents. The miller, hearing that, joined his son on the donkey. Of course there were animal activists in the group who felt the donkey was overburdened & complained. To satisfy these complaints, the miller & his son carried the donkey. The only way to carry the donkey was to tie him, upside down, to a pole. The donkey did NOT enjoy his ride & began to kick & bray & ultimately all 3 wound up falling off the bridge into the river. By the time the miller, his son, & the donkey were safely out of the water they had finally learned you can't please everyone.
LoiS

22) The Three Billy Goats Gruff PB w CD (Book & CD) is one and there's an Australian type too.

23) This is my favourite bridge story -- but a story about a bridge that goes somewhere. I'd like to see it happening all over the world. (Unfortunately, it couldn't even happen with my own brother.) Sorry, I don't have a source to which I can give credit.
Story:
Once, two brothers who lived on adjoining farms fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side by side, sharing machinery, and trading labour and goods as needed without a hitch. Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding, grew into a major difference, and finally it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence. One morning there was a knock on John's door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter's toolbox. "I'm looking for a few days work," he said. "Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there. Could I help you?" "Yes," said John, "I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at that farm. That's my neighbour. In fact, it's my younger brother. Last week there was a meadow between us and he took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I'll go him one better. See that pile of lumber curing by the barn? I want you to build me a fence -- an 8-foot fence -- so I won't need to see his place anymore. That should cool him down, anyhow." The carpenter said, "I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post-hole digger and I'll be able to do a job that pleases you." Now John, the older brother, had to go to town for supplies, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day. The carpenter worked hard all that day measuring, sawing, nailing. About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job. The farmer's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped. There was no fence there at all. It was a bridge-a bridge stretching from one side of the creek to the other! A fine piece of work, handrails and all. John looked up and the neighbour, his younger brother, was coming across, his hand outstretched. "You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I've said and done." The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and then they met in the middle, taking each other's hand. They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox on his shoulder. "No, wait! Stay a few days. I've a lot of other projects for you," said John. "I'd love to stay on," the carpenter said, "but, I have many more bridges to build.
Dale P.

.....Response: The title of this story is "Old Joe and the Carpenter." It is considered a signature story of Pleasant DeSpain's. You can .....find it in his works and also in Doorways to the Soul: 52 Wisdom Tales from Around the World by Elisa Pearmain.
.....Karen C.

24) "The Bridge of San Martin"
Story:
The figure of a woman can be seen carved in stone in a niche over the keystone of the central arch of the Bridge of San Martín at Toledo. This story tells why she is so honoured.

A bridge near this spot was destroyed by flood in 1203 and immediately replaced. That bridge in turn was deliberately destroyed in the mid-14th century for strategic reasons during a battle for the kingship between the half-brothers Pedro I the Cruel and Don Enrique de Trastámara. The present bridge, a jewel of medieval architecture restored in the 17th and 18th centuries, was built in 1390 at the order of the Archbishop of Toledo, Don Pedro Tenorio.

The archbishop hired one of the most renowned architect-engineers of that time, whose name is not recorded. The work commenced, and the people of Toledo and the archbishop watched the progress of the bridge with satisfaction. Soon, the magnificent central arch, rising to 27 metres with a 40-metre span, was completed, and it was obvious that it would be only a matter of days before the scaffolding that supported the stonework could be removed.

One night, however, the engineer seemed unusually quiet and preoccupied when he came home from the day’s work. He refused to answer his wife’s questions, and after his supper he left the house without telling her where he was going. He went to the bridge, where he descended a ladder and inspected the foundations of the central arch. He arrived back home pale and disturbed. His wife pressed him again for an explanation, and after a few moments while he gathered his thoughts into words, he told her what the problem was.

He had unaccountably made a serious error in his calculations. He could see now that as soon as the scaffolding was taken down, the central arch would collapse, killing any workmen in the vicinity. He would be responsible for the deaths of the workers if he said nothing. If he admitted his error and dismantled the bridge, his reputation would be destroyed, and no one would ever employ him as an engineer again. What was he to do? Of course, he couldn’t let the men die, but what would he say to the archbishop? How could he explain why the bridge had to be torn down and rebuilt from scratch, when the archbishop had been impatiently urging him to complete the work as soon as possible? He covered his face with his hands and wept bitterly.

His wife was a brave and clever woman, and she immediately saw that there was only one solution. She also knew that she had little time to do what had to be done. She waited only a moment until she could see that her husband had fallen into a troubled sleep, exhausted by his worries. Then she took a torch and went out.

The night was dark and stormy, and she passed through the deserted streets unnoticed. As the rain began to fall more heavily, she was afraid that her torch might be extinguished, and that would be fatal to her plans. She arrived at the bridge and walked trembling to the central arch, then she threw the burning torch into the complex arrangement of posts and poles and ropes that made up the scaffolding. The torch sputtered briefly in the rain, but soon the flames took hold and, fanned by the wind, rose quickly. Her task accomplished, the engineer’s wife ran home.

As the engineer had rightly calculated, as soon as the scaffolding burned away there was a tremendous crash of what the Toledanos naturally took to be thunder. But it was the falling of the central arch of the bridge. The following morning, the archbishop and the people of Toledo surveyed the damage. Seeing the burnt scaffolding, they quite understandably attributed the disaster to a bolt of lightning during the storm. The archbishop ordered the engineer to recommence the construction of the bridge, which he did with a contented mind and a heart full of gratitude to his wife.

However, the woman was troubled with feelings of guilt. On the day the bridge was dedicated and officially opened, she requested an audience with the archbishop. Fully expecting to be punished or at least scolded, she admitted that she had destroyed the bridge and explained her reason. But the archbishop, instead of castigating her, praised her cleverness and courage in saving countless lives and the reputation of her husband. And he ordered a stone carved with the figure of a woman to be placed on the bridge to commemorate her deed.

Note:
Rufino Miranda (_Toledo, Its Art and Its History_, Ediciones Savir, Toledo, 2000) says that the stone carving does not depict the face of a woman: “In spite of the erosion of the stone which has taken place over the years, the mitred head of the archbishop who ordered the bridge to
be restored can still be made out.”

This English version copyright Richard Marsh 2003.
Richard M. Dublin

25) "The Bridges at Soravilla and Oiartzun" (Gipuzcoa)
[
Here is one from the Basque Country, which is "near Spain", as one of my Basque students explained to the class when someone asked where her home was. It's a chapter in my Spanish and Basque Legends book, which I recently completed at 77,777 words and is currently with a publisher. This written English version is copyright 2005 by Richard Marsh.]
Story:

A stonecutter in Soravilla was trying to build a bridge over the Rio Oria, when it was destroyed by the water. He said aloud, "Only the demons of Hell will be able to help me build this bridge." The Devil himself appeared and offered to have the bridge built before cock-crow the following morning, in exchange for the man's soul. The stonecutter agreed to the bargain, thinking that this was impossible, and 14,000 devils all named Micolás set to work. As the construction progressed rapidly, the stonecutter began to worry that he might have to pay the price after all. Fortunately, a wise woman came to him and said, "Take some salt and put it up the backside of the cock. That will make it crow."

The stonecutter did what she suggested, and when the cock crowed long before break of day, all the Micoláses stopped work immediately and returned to Hell, leaving the bridge as it was. However, all the work had been finished with the exception of one stone. When the people saw the new bridge, they noticed the gap. They fitted a stone into the waiting space, but the following morning it had disappeared. Several times they put a stone in the hole, and each time it was gone the next day. Finally they gave up, and when you look at the bridge and see the empty space, you know the story is true. Micaela Labaien Lasarte, aged 74, of Leiza gave that account to Juan Garmendia Larrañaga in 1988, and he published it in his 1995 book Mitos y leyendas de los Vascos. In 1993, an ethnologist took me on an excursion to stone circles and dolmens in the hills near San Sebastian. On our way back to the city, we stopped in the village of Oiartzun, not far from Soravilla. He showed me a bridge across the Rio Oiartzun that had a stone missing and told me the same story about that bridge.
Richard M., Dublin

26) The stories we are telling in our Bridges program March 21, one program in Hebrew and one in English, include:
"The Carpenter"
"The Monkey King and the Mangoes"
"Bridge over Troubled Waters" - Rinah's story of her father the rabbi
"Friendship," a story of the troubles in India
"The Little Mermaid," Italian story, not the known one
"The Stammer," a true story
"A letter from Father," also a true story
"Into the Galilee," a story of Jewish-Arab friendship
"The Weaving Maid"
Dvora S. Israel

27) I tried to google "devil's bridge" to give more of a reference and found there are many devil's bridge legends
http://www.pitt.edu/~dash/type1191.html

I never found a French one however. It was in a collection somewhere back at the library where I worked. Does anyone know a reference for the Devil's Bridge?

Did anyone mention "The Peddlar of Swaffham"? There are a dozen versions but usually he goes to a bridge to find the man who inadvertantly tells him that his treasure is in his own back yard. It's a standard tale for many tellers.
http://www.speakeandlowestories.talktalk.net/peddler_of_swaffham.htm
http://www.story-lovers.com/listspedlarswaffham.html
Marilyn K.

Created 2005; last update 5/25/09