I am speaking on behalf of a bridge, a structure historic and beloved, but also endangered. The Battenville Bridge is a 110-year-old single-laned steel structure in Washington County, New York. It carries County Route 61 across the Battenkill, a well-known trout fishing river and it lies in the middle of the hamlet of Battenville. The Friends of the Battenville Bridge want to save this landmark.
Homes near each end of the bridge are listed in the National Register of Historic Places. Most notable among these is the childhood home of women’s rights activist Susan B. Anthony, now being renovated by New York State Office of Historic Preservation. The bridge, which is itself eligible for listing on the national register, is but a stone’s throw from the Anthony House. In 1916 the current structure replaced a covered bridge that had long stood at the same location, Anthony no doubt crossed this predecessor of the current bridge to attend the one room schoolhouse on the opposite side of the Battenkill from her home. Her maternal grandfather, a revolutionary war veteran, is buried in the Battenville cemetery, just across the road from the former schoolhouse.
The bridge has height and weight limits. As it has been allowed to deteriorate, the bridge’s posted weight limit has dropped from 22 tons to eight tons over the past couple of years. Cars crossing the bridge produce a distinctive brief clatter. The horse and buggies of the Amish, common in the area, generate a more subtle sound as they are driven across the bridge.
Why does a bridge need friends? Bridges decay without upkeep and attention from the government agencies responsible for their maintenance. Steel rusts, concrete cracks and chips. Every man-made structure ages and this is particularly true of bridges exposed to wear and weather and salt. Twenty-five years ago, the Washington County Board of Supervisors voted to restore rather than replace the bridge because of its historic nature. The work was accomplished and the aging bridge was rejuvenated and reopened. But a quarter century has passed and the bridge again needs restoration. The bridge is 25 years more historic now. In fact, Google Maps just pinned the bridge as “The Historic Battenville Steel Bridge.”
The bridge needs friends because there are voices calling for its replacement. Those voices, found in agencies that build roads, don’t like height and weight limits. They want conformity with present day construction standards. They don’t like one lane bridges. They don’t like old bridges. They want the same non-descript soulless concrete structures found up and down the river from the Battenville bridge. No artist sets up an easel to make a painting of those concrete bridges. No one stops to photograph them. No one remembers them and when they decay, they no doubt will be replaced with similarly functional but characterless structures.
The Battenville bridge needs and deserves friends because, in contrast to the neighboring bridges, it has inspired artists and photographers. It is an increasingly rare surviving example of a steel truss bridge. In contrast to its neighbors, the Battenville bridge provides a memorable portion of any journey. A one lane bridge has a traffic calming effect, much welcomed by the fishermen and by the Amish who cross the bridge more slowly than those in automobiles. A one lane bridge demands the driver’s attention. There can be no drifting, there can be no inattention to oncoming traffic. Sometimes there is even unspoken negotiation as to which vehicle passes before that which is oncoming.
The Battenville bridge needs friends because it has no voice of its own. It has never complained, but it is suffering. It has never demanded the attention it deserves and which it needs to endure. It has never promoted itself. But - it is a gem in a perfect setting.
In a world with a throw-away culture, some structures, like the Battenville bridge are so pleasing to the eye, so appropriate for their setting, so calming, and so historic that they should be celebrated, maintained, and, when necessary, restored. Dear bridge, you can’t speak, but we speak for you and your survival and we hope others hear the message.
Lee Shapiro is a physician recently retired from clinical practice, but still engaged in teaching and research as a professor emeritus in the division of rheumatology at Albany Medical College. He has a home one mile uphill from the bridge and speaks on behalf of The Friends of the Battenville Bridge. He is a member of the National Trust for Historic Preservation since 1973.
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