Wednesday April 14th, 2021
The Atlin Whisper “Never doubt that a small group of committed citizens can change the world.” Margaret Mead
A BRIDGE TOO CLOSE Encounters With Steel in the Dead of Night My old man said to me one time, “Son, if you can invent something simple and necessary like the paper clip, you’re set for life.” Well, Mr. Bailey’s dad must have said something similar to him, because the Bailey bridge was one of the best, functional ideas to come along in an era of good ideas. It changed the face of the North and, just like the paper clip, it made you wonder how you managed to get along without it. The Bailey bridge was designed for the British army in 1940 to be a light, strong, portable and easily constructed, single lane bridge for use in wartime. These characteristics made it perfect for the North, the state of the roads being, more often than not, reminiscent of travel in the hedgerow country during the allied invasion of France. Bailey bridges were used by the Army Corps of Engineers when they built the Atlin road in 1950. We know it was the army, because the streams they crossed were named ‘Tarfu Creek’ and ‘Snafu Creek.’. They had a way with words, the army did. One of these very bridges spanned Pine Creek, the body of water that flows past my cabin, and I had driven over it thousands of times. On the night before a Hallowe’en gig one year, however, I got to know it a little too intimately. — I smiled, winced, and a shudder rippled around the table beside the stage like the wave at a Canuck’s game. Diplomatic folks these. They knew by now of course … likely knew the following morning; not all of the sordid details, but enough to flesh out a passable account around the table at the cafe. So far I had played two sets and not a word had been said. Hallowe’en night at the Inn and I was the only one not requiring a costume.