Folks, this has gotta be my most morbid post ever. And I apologize for this, but I think it's gotta be done, here's why: Our buddy, Adam Gorightly of the Untamed Dimensions wanted to talk to us about weirdness in the Arroyo Seco for a project Australian filmmaker Sam Fielder is taking on. Well, there's a lotta weirdness to account for, and I thought I'd go right for the suicide bridge.
Gorightly and Fielder are working on a documentary about the paranormal and SoCal and besides the Arroyo, they went to Hollywood Forever Cemetery, Salvation Mountain, Giant Rock, the Integratron, the Salton Sea, Joshua Tree - you know, some of Raven Jake's favorite haunts. Then we went and had a chat on Greg Bishop's Radio Misterioso. Had some good times talkin' about the normal, the paranormal, and everything in between.
Now I want to tell you right now that I do not in any way advocate ending your life voluntarily. Most times it's a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Game over. Get some help. There are very few scenarios where you're better off dead, and mostly it's just a huge awful burden on those who are left behind. When you look down the list of "jumpers," you'll not find even one person whom you could say objectively was "better off."
The Colorado Street Bridge has been an icon of Pasadena, California since its construction in 1913. Once the highest and longest bridge in the world, its beautiful Beaux Arts arches spanning the Arroyo Seco have the turn-of-the-20thcentury charm of orange crate labels and the grandeur of a roman aqueduct traversing a Maxfield Parrish landscape. It is a source of pride to native Pasadenans who have fought successfully to preserve it when “progress” would see it destroyed and was once a tourist destination not unlike Venice’s Ponte dei Sospiri.
So Jane threw herself into the research with characteristic abandon, and came up with some pretty major discrepancies between the documentation and the perception. Yep, it's that 
"weirdness" thing. So besides the death list, what else? Well, maybe that ol' bridge is haunted. I figured I'd go back to the "back in the day" news clippings and cite the references. Let's clear out the hearsay. Get rid of some of them urban myths. Here's a few things it might interest you to know.
It is a fact that Orange Grove Blvd at Live Oak was the site of a Tongva burial ground for the Hahamonga. Is this an influence? Maybe, if you believe in ghosts.
Here's another - two workers were killed during the construction of the bridge, and it's a pretty hair-raising story. Here's the newspaper account from 1913:
Pasadena – An entire section of the forms for the floor over the highest arch of the $200,000 concrete bridge now being constructed over the Arroyo Seco at the West end of Colorado Street gave way at 5:00 yesterday afternoon and let 30 tons of liquid cement and 100 tons of scaffolding fall to the ground 150 feet below.
Sixteen men were at work on the top of the arch at the time. Three fell with the debris. One was killed outright; another was extricated after 20 minutes work and will live. The third was buried up to his neck in the soft concrete under a network of heavy timbers about 20 feet deep for nearly five hours. He was finally rescued and found to have a leg crushed and one arm so badly hurt that amputation will be necessary.
The other workmen saved themselves, some by running back to a safe place on the bridge and three by hanging for their lives to wires.
The dead man was John Vicso [sic - usually it's spelled "Visco"], a dumper, who lived in Los Angeles. He was picked up with his head crushed.
C. J. Johnson, the next taken out of the death pile, who lives at No. 417 Central Ave, Los Angeles, may lose his left eye and his right arm was mangled. He was taken to the Morengo Avenue Hospital.
H. Collins, a wire worker, who lives in Pasadena, was taken out at 9:45 o’clock, and taken to the Pasadena Hospital. He may live.
Great heroism was shown in the rescue of Collins. No sooner had the maze of wood and cement fallen than every man on the ground seized saw, crowbar, jack or whatever tool he could lay his hands on, and sprang on the pile of timbers. Above them a still larger section towered, with its uprights buckled and its upper beams hanging at a dangerous slant, seemingly ready to fall any minute. A lookout was stationed on top of the bridge and another off to one side to give a warning if it should be seen to start, but not a man at work would have had a chance to escape should such a second accident have occurred.
Soon after Johnson was brought up, some of the workmen heard Collins calling to them from far down in the depths of the pile of wreckage. His cries were groans of pain and all worked the harder.
Owing to the lack of room, the rescue party was soon reduced to about eight man led by Alfred Larson, the superintendent. They burrowed into the heap like prairie dogs, sawing their way as they went. After two hour’s work, during which they reassured the injured man with calls of, “Never mind, old man, we’ll have you out soon,” they reached him. They found him wedged tightly and buried to his neck in liquid cement. The tip of one hand also protruded. To clear away the cement, it was necessary to enlarge the hole and Dr. R. H. Newfering, in order to ease the man’s suffering, took his life in his hands and descended into the hole to administer a palliative. He had to use the hypodermic needle on the patient’s forehead.
Those who worked with Larson to extricate Collins were E. Ericson, J. Mulaney, Samuel Overson, John Moseley, R. Reynolds, Jesus Colorado, M. Colorado, David Cotterell, N. Nelson, Fred Aymes, Samuel Olsen, R. Gillhousen, H. Holland, John Galloway, R. Everett, and Bernard Munn, the time-keeper, who was also rushed to a telephone and notified the police, who procured ambulances.
W. A. Nelson perhaps had the narrowest escapes of any of the men. When he heard the timbers crack, he started to run onto the next arch and the floor parted just in front of him. He leaped over the chasm and landed safely on a projecting shelf which remained in place.
E. Ericson was just looking at some of the timbers, the force having only a moment before stopped work preparatory to going to the mess tent, when he heard one of the Colorados call to him to jump. It was too late. He and the two Colorados were cut off. As the floor sank beneath them, they seized slender strips of steel which projected from some of the solid cement, and by almost superhuman efforts drew themselves to safety.
The arch, the top of which fell, besides being the highest in the bridge, has also the greatest span – 210 feet. The scaffolding under it was in three sections. It was the western section which crumpled up and went down with the cement. The middle section started, but remained in place, although it is feared that it may fall at any moment.
The bridge is being built jointly by Los Angeles County and the city of Pasadena and is to give Pasadena automobilists a direct route to the seashore without passing through Los Angeles. It is being constructed by the Mercereau Bridge and Construction Company of Los Angeles, and the plans were drawn by the firm of Waddell & Harrington of Kansas City. C. K. Allen, an engineer who represents the latter firm and who is superintending the construction of the bridge, said last night:
“It is hard to tell what caused the accident. Some timber gave way and that let another go, and so on. The scaffolding fell like a pack of cards. We had forms for 100 cubic yards of flooring in and were pouring the cement. Three cars had just been run out to the end of the track, and the jarring of the cars probably caused the boards to start. The accident will not greatly delay the completion of the bridge. We had expected to have it done in October.”
This is the first serious accident there has been on the bridge since work was begun.
Visco, who was killed, was married, and Collins has a wife and a 6-year-old child. Johnson is unmarried.
Detectives Shelton and Betts went to the place at once in the police automobile, when the accident was reported and the chief of police McIntyre later also arrived on the scene with a number of patrolmen. The fall of the timbers made a terrific crash, and a large crowd collected, but the danger of another fall was so great that few ventured near.
And here's the reference: "Cities and Towns South of Tehachepi's Top--Los Angeles County News: ONE KILLED IN COLLAPSE; Concrete Bridge Over Arroyo Seco Poves Insecure; Three Precipitated One Hundred and Fifty Feet; Tons of Material Fall With Luckless Artisans.." Los Angeles Times (1886-1922), August 2, 1913.
There've been plenty of rumors over the years about "the concrete dumper who fell into the cement mixer and was ground to pieces" and "the guy who fell into the cement and when they couldn't get him out they poured more concrete over the top of him, sealing him in the bridge forever. " Now when you read the original account, you can see that there's a kernel of truth to the story - but the rest is just fanciful (if somewhat gothic) urban myth. In fact, the story of the accident, the Indiana Jones-style escapes of Nelson, Ericson, and the Colorado brothers, and the heroic rescue of poor Collins make for as good a story, if not better.
Now they say that when a ghost passes on the bridge at night, the lights turn blue. I ain't seen it, and a minimum of 120 people have ended their lives there; I hope it's 'cause their souls are at peace. But the first time someone fell off that ol' bridge, it was an accident - and 98 years later the tragedy of John Visco and H. Collins should serve as a reminder of how precious and transient life is.
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