Skyway: The True Story of Tampa Bay's Signature Bridge and the Man Who Brought It Down by Bill DeYoung (review)

Bill DeYoung's riveting treatment of the 1980 Tampa Bay, Florida, bridge collapse fits into the category of creative nonfiction written by journalists. It blends what seems to be every available source on the topic—reports from government agencies, television and newspaper accounts, court transcripts, engineering specifications, and of course, personal interviews—into a cogent book-length narrative that tells a familiar story from history with the snap and energy commonly found in news reporting. This genre is a lively marriage of chronicle and storytelling, with a small side of the sensational, because journalists are ever aware that their work must ultimately appeal to popular fancy. I call DeYoung's book sensational, but it is certainly also conscientious and rigorous, and his topic is serious: thirty-five people lost their lives when 1,200 feet of the bridge fell and the vehicles they were in plummeted into the water 150 feet below. The sensationalism comes in very small doses—from the bold title, for example—and serves to capture interest rather than weaken credibility.

DeYoung's is the first nonfiction book about the iconic Sunshine Skyway Bridge and its abrupt demise at the bow of a 606-foot freighter run afoul in a sudden storm. The bridge was one of the longest structures in the world at the time the two segments of it were built (in 1954 and 1971). In 1954, it was the first bridge in the United States constructed entirely of prestressed concrete and steel rods. After it was destroyed, the bridge was reconstructed with a cable-sway design and now claims to be the fifth longest bridge of that design in the world, spanning nearly five miles of water. Recently, Sunshine Skyway was listed as one of the top three bridges in the world by Travel magazine, and each day, an estimated 52,000 vehicles navigate its five-degree incline to cross from Manatee to Pinellas County. In the book's preface, DeYoung shares his terrifying childhood memories of riding in the back of his father's blue and white 1956 Chevrolet as the family raced up the bridge's steep angle, seemingly about to fly into the sky, and then plunged down the roadway on the other side.

The book's title proclaims that it is about both the bridge and the man who brought it down, Captain John Lerro. Lerro, unfortunately, was no longer alive to be interviewed for the book, although DeYoung appears to have had extended access to Charles Lerro, John's son, who was thirteen at the time of the tragedy. DeYoung also interviewed Lerro's sister and friends, the attorney who defended him after the crash, several other Tampa Bay harbor pilots, family members of the only survivor, and local political figures. These interviews are carefully cited in the notes section at the end of the book, along with the archival sources DeYoung consulted.

Unfortunately, the interviews appear to be housed only in the author's personal library. Keeping source materials private is not unusual for this type of single-author work; however, it would be nice to see the interviews made available in a traditional or online archive. Such a resource would be valuable for educators who might wish students to explore this incident in history. I imagine locals might be able to add stories they collect from members of the community, as DeYoung makes a compelling case that the bridge is linked to collective identity in the region. DeYoung has been active in stirring Floridians to a remembrance of the event since publication of his book, and some consider him the primary force behind the public memorial for the Sunshine Skyway victims that was placed in Blackthorn Park on May 9, 2015. Sharing the interviews would be consistent with the public advocacy DeYoung has already demonstrated.

Skyway begins with...