Brooklyn Bridges - Introduction

"A collection of lessons learned from 20 years of running over bridges in NYC"

A pic of the Brooklyn Bridge I took on a run recently. It is still hard for me to believe this was made in the days when horse power was still provided by real horses.

After 160 years, the Brooklyn Bridge continues to be an American icon, a symbol of human ingenuity. When it was constructed in 1863 it was the longest suspension bridge in the world, quite ahead of its time. The techniques for its construction were not perfected, and over 20 people died in its construction. Tragically, less than a week after it opened, 12 more died in a stampede spurred by rumors that it was about to collapse. Shortly afterward, P.T. Barnum of Barnum and Bailey Circus herded 21 elephants over the bridge to show its structural soundness. For all of these reasons and more, it remains a symbol of New York, a place where people push the limits and history is made. 

I have enjoyed running or biking over this iconic site, too many times to count, and it never gets old. The only complication is that it continues to be one of the more photogenic spots in the city, so I wonder how many pictures I accidentally photobombed over the years. I expect some newlyweds from France or Dubai have a beautiful wedding photo in their living room, and no one notices the middle-aged White guy in a blue sweatshirt far in the background trying to duck out of the way. 

For this collection, I use the name, Brooklyn Bridges, for a number of reasons, but first, I need to tell you the back story.

It starts from far across the bridge, actually, outside of NYC in mid-America.

The warm July breeze was delightful as my wife Linda and I sat beside a calm lake in beautiful, rugged, Southern Ohio. It was our first anniversary and thus the final day of our self-imposed moratorium on conversations about our future.  When we were dating I was happily involved in a youth ministry in Columbus, Ohio. Linda was doing the same in Brooklyn. When we got engaged, we decided to live in Ohio for a year after our wedding with the agreement that we would wait at least a year to make a decision about where we would live and work long-term. It wasn’t particularly romantic of me for a 1st Anniversary getaway, but on that day I dove deep into decision-making mode. Much to my disappointment, all my attempts to make my new bride happy in Ohio had been ineffective. She still wanted to go back to Brooklyn. After several hours, Linda respectfully reminded me that we said we would begin discerning on the one year mark, not necessarily make the decision on that day.  I sighed and began what turned out to be a spiritually intimate year of prayer and discernment. Slowly and thoroughly, God changed my heart and hers – yes, God works in strange ways – and 15 months later, on September 18, 2003, we drove a lumbering moving truck through the rain across a couple of bridges into Brooklyn. With our first son in utero, we were met with a crowd of well-wishers at our new apartment, and we could not have been more excited. God had spoken in so many precious ways. “He gently leads those that are with young” from Isaiah became our reality. I was provided a meaningful job in the neighborhood overseeing some after-school programs, a family counseling program and a college counseling program. It was a dream job for me as a Social Worker. We also plugged into our church to help coordinate youth ministries and a men’s group.

It wasn’t long, however, that I had a growing sense that all my amazing talents weren’t needed as much as I thought. I wasn’t quite the gift from God that I thought I was. I was so clearly called by God to move to Brooklyn. That has never been in doubt, but I started asking myself, “What do I make of the tepid results? What am I really accomplishing here?”

Somewhere in those early years, I was struck with a novel thought. It seemed like God was saying, “Maybe I didn’t call you to Brooklyn for Brooklyn’s sake. Maybe I called you here for your sake, to teach you something.”

That thought has stuck with me these 20+ years later, and it has actually been quite helpful. It has helped me fend off the White-Saviour complex and establish some amazing relationships here. I have tried to face each challenge with that question, “What is God teaching me here?” 

So as I crossed the twenty year mark in this great city, someone challenged me to write my memoir. I thought I could write down some of the things I have learned. So here I go. I plan to write down some of the thoughts that God brought my way, many of them through local foks here.

So as I sit here in my favorite pizzeria, I invite you to grab a virtual slice; perhaps you will be fed. If not, no big deal, I have a feeling it will be a meaningful process for me to reflect and reinforce the lessons God brought me here to learn. Thanks for coming along.