East Stadium Bridges: A public appeal

It took a while, at least since I was still a resident of Milan, typing papers and dreaming of college, to get the ramp seen to. Similarly, the East Stadium Bridges are becoming a source of consternation and drama. The lanes have been reduced since early summer, but where traffic cones have been set out, there doesn’t seem to be any construction imminent. The project has been up in the air — that is, acknowledged and discussed — for at least a year. First it was a thorny problem; then it was a financial pickle; now it’s whatever cartoony-y euphemism you feel comfortable assigning to falling wedges of concrete.

Good gravy — how bad does it have to get?

The Stadium bridge over State Street is 92 years old and ranked a 2 out of a possible 100 on its last inspection. That’s not a typo; that’s 98 points away from a federally-sanctioned perfect score. If that were a letter grade, it wouldn’t even be a fail; it’d be a bridge in a dunce cap that other bridges threw tomatoes at. I hesitate to imagine what a “one” looks like — an ancient Indiana Jones-style rope bridge over a river of crocodiles? A fallen tree across a gorge? Is it just a ladder?

This may sound like personal interest — and it is; I run across the two-bridge span at least twice a week, and drive over it daily. But consider the larger scope: The bridge is an artery to the stadium. There are four more home games this year. The coming winter will alternately freeze, thaw and refreeze supports to the structure. And it’s not as though a collapse would only affect those up top — the bridge spans over another traffic and pedestrian thoroughfare. That puts out-of-towners, students, and locals of all boroughs at risk. Which is, to my mind, everyone. Yes, construction can be an inconvenience. The Hill Street repaving between State and Packard was Ann Arbor’s off-road adventure for a few weeks during the summer, but we made it work. It’s actually a shame it didn’t extend further toward Main; the area by the railroad tracks is a pockmarked hazard for cars and bikers alike. It can also be costly. But there is money for this. There is, somewhere. I’m not throwing stones, or even chunks of concrete, at any current developments. I’m just appealing to the city’s good sense.

Sarah Smallwood is a freelance writer living and working in Ann Arbor. She is currently rewriting her first novel, keeps a daily blog at The Other Shoe and hosts a podcast at Stuff with Things. She can be reached at heybeedoo at gmail dot com.