I started traveling at a young age. I was only six months old when my mother and the family moved from Virginia to Texas. I’m sure it was a road trip because airline travel was expensive back then and they were a family of five.
In Texas I stayed for many years until I was a young teenager. From there I traveled to Florida with my 3 month old son, Adam, and his dad who was going to be stationed at MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa.
I remember that trip well. We followed the coast of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and along the coast of the Florida panhandle then south down the west gulf coast with only a paper map as a guide No A/C, no cell phone, no credit cards, only a small amount of cash in a very old blue Chevy pickup truck. With the windows down and hopes high, we hit the road. It was exciting to see all the small coastal towns with fishing boats lined up at the docks flanked by the gorgeous views of the gulf. It was 1971 and we had no car seat or baby carrier, Adam just laid on the bench seat between us. Life seemed pretty simple, nothing to fear (or should I say we feared nothing), excited to see what life would bring.
At the time my mother lived in Bradenton, Florida and we drove there before my husband reported to McDill. As we neared our destination, we approached the Lower Tampa Bay and were met a by a very long bridge that connected the land on the north to the land on the southern side. It was called the Sunshine Skyway Bridge. It was 15 miles end to end. We traveled several miles just above the water on a low level causeway when ahead on the horizon appears steep high span. It seemed like it was a mile straight up into the sky although it was only 150 ft above the water. I was terrified; it felt like we were driving to the highest peak on a roller coaster not knowing what was on the other side. I wanted to turn around but there was no going back. When we reached the top of the span, the road surface was made of only metal grates and you could look down to the water far, far below. Over the next 3 years I dreaded every time we had to cross that bridge and I never got accustom to crossing it.
The original bridge was built in 1954 and in 1980 after I had left Florida, a freighter hit one of the support columns of the bridge and caused it to collapse. Several cars and even a greyhound bus plunged into the water. Thirty-four people died as a result of the collapse. How horrifying.
We made the trip between Florida and Texas by car several times, the last time I crossed that bridge was in December 1973, on my way to Alaska via the Alcan Highway. That was another exciting journey, but a story for another day.
Below is a link about the history of the bridge.
Emyloom ~ Words Woven Within My Heart 