Wednesday, August 01, 2007


Tonight a bridge collapsed on 35w over the Mississippi, a bridge I drive on often, bike under even more often, a bridge connecting downtown and the U and Northeast Mpls. I first heard when Katherine called me to see if I was alive, and then I listened to the radio till I went to the bar to watch the telly, to hear the mayor and the governor and our senators etc make pronoucements. Cari was set to drive up to Roseville right at that time, and luckily she had to work late. Luckily all of my friends seem to be okay.

What a fucking catastrophe. What can I do as a historian? I wish I were an EMT. I wish I could be helpful some way. I work at the museum at HCMC, the hospital where they're bringing survivors. I'll try to get some oral histories tomorrow. I can't see what else I can do.

Here are some photos from flickr and the breaking news on wikipedia.

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At 9:54 AM, Blogger Rhea said...

I was so glad to see this post and know that you were alive and well! Just in time, too, before my motherly worry kicked in...


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