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I t’s no accident that the decade of the Roaring Twenties was the heyday of bridge and tunnel building in the lower Hudson Valley. During those ebullient years between the end of World War I and the beginning of the Great Depression, when the Holland Tunnel, the Bear Mountain Bridge, and the George Washington Bridge were built, the country was in an extraordinarily expansive and optimistic mood. New social and political ideas abounded, new concepts were emerging in architecture, engineering, painting, literature, and music, and a feeling spread across America that the good times were likely to last forever. There was more enthusiasm for grand projects than there had been in most earlier years, and it was a good deal easier to obtain support for them than it would be just a few years later. By most accounts it was a wonderful time for proposing a new bridge. Bridge construction was especially well supported in New York City during the twenties, but that wasn’t the only place. Seventy-five miles up the Hudson, at about the time work on the Bear Mountain was winding down and about when Lindenthal and Ammann were beginning to disagree about the design of the George Washington, plans for a second bridge at Poughkeepsie were taking shape. It had been only about thirty-four years since completion of Poughkeepsie ’s historic railroad bridge, and the reason for building a second bridge within less than a mile of the first one was seen by some as frivolous. Its proponents just wanted to be able to walk across the bridge, instead of riding on a train, and they were campaigning for alterations that would accommodate a pedestrian walkway. The existing bridge already had a couple of walkways, but they had been designed to provide inspection and c hap ter 9  The Mid-Hudson Bridge 151 maintenance access for railroad employees and were considered too narrow for any other use. Ten years earlier, the mayor of Poughkeepsie had raised the possibility of improving those limited (and sometimes dangerous) walkways. He had been able to attract some enthusiasm for his idea from Monsignor Joseph Sheahan, the activist pastor of Saint Peter’s Roman Catholic Church in Poughkeepsie, and additional support from his own influential brother, a member of the powerful Public Service Commission of New York State. But the idea didn’t get much traction. Although the charter for the original bridge was interpreted by some as obligating the railroad that had acquired the bridge to provide pedestrian access, a legal review turned up a revision to the charter that had pretty much relieved the company of any such responsibility. But the mayor had planted a seed, and Monsignor Sheahan took on the job of nourishing it. The pastor became convinced that what was really needed wasn’t just pedestrian access, but vehicular access, too, and over the years that followed he sponsored and encouraged a series of petitions to improve or expand the old railroad bridge. None of them succeeded. By 1921 Monsignor Sheahan and his following had found their way to Gustav Lindenthal, who was at that time gearing up for what proved to be his final, failed e¤ort to secure the commission to design the George Washington Bridge. What they wanted from Lindenthal was an expert opinion to support their idea that vehicular and pedestrian access could be provided by reinforcing, altering, and adding to the old bridge. But they were to be disappointed . Lindenthal, not a bit reluctant to disparage the original design, inspected the old bridge and told them that the cost of such an improvement would be so high that no responsible engineer could justify it. It became evident that if the citizens of Poughkeepsie were serious about vehicular and pedestrian access for crossing the Hudson, they were going to have to build a new bridge. Apparently, they were serious. The evolution of their objective from simple pedestrian access to vehicular access and then their leap to building a new bridge had broadened and intensified the appeal of their campaign. The idea caught on, and in little time the local newspapers and the growing local chapter of Kiwanis, together with some of the town’s most influential citizens , had lined up behind Monsignor Sheahan to advocate for a new bridge.1 In 1922 they established the Hudson Valley Bridge Association to mount and manage a campaign. There would be no Harriman family to pay for 152 crossing...

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