Growing up in the East Bay, I had never needed a reason to go to San Francisco. However, since my parents both went to church in Chinatown in the City, I would have to go with them on Sundays.
Every Sunday, they would drive to San Francisco through the Bay Bridge. Every morning on those Sundays, I would watch as we crossed the bridge. I would remember just crossing it and just look out to the waters.
Following church, it was back on the bridge. I would sometimes fall asleep on the ride there. Other times, I’d just listen to music as my dad drove. I even notice the fixed part of the bridge my dad would drive over. That was the part that had to be repaired after the 1989 earthquake.
Now with the completion of the new eastern span, the Bay Bridge going from Oakland to Treasure Island is no longer in service. They will open up the new one.
I’m sad about it. I rarely drove to San Francisco. I usually opted for BART but for the longest time when I went to San Francisco for summer camp or for my various summer jobs, I would carpool and be on that bridge.
That bridge holds a lot of memories for me. It’s not like the bridge entirely is gone, but a part of me has changed. And now that I live in LA, I don’t even get a chance to see it one last time — let alone drive on it ever again.
I’m going to miss it. I was on that bridge almost every week and it is part of why I love living in the Bay. It was always there for me. Now I have to say farewell.