A Day in the Life of a Bridgeman

By Steve Hanf

People of a certain age all have memories of a classic children’s picture book that highlighted countless odd jobs around town. But nothing in Richard Scarry’s “What Do People Do All Day?” comes close to the wonderment reserved for the operators who tend the Alligator River bridge.

“We get that a lot,” Mike Myers says with a laugh when asked how many people pose the question of what those folks do in that impossibly tiny bridge house in the middle of the swinging span. “People say, ‘Oh, that sounds boring.’”

The job CAN be easy and boring – except when it’s not. Every driver racing along US Highway 64 between the Outer Banks and Raleigh has a story of seeing the dreaded red lights in the middle of the tiny two-lane, 2.8-mile long bridge. Or of having to take lengthy detours the handful of times the bridge has been closed for maintenance.

Sometimes it’s fun to hop out of your car and watch in awe as the roadway swings out to offer access to the 100-foot channels. The number of stickers that all but cover the yellow “drawbridge ahead” road signs are testament to how many people get out to enjoy the view while sailboats, powerboats, fishing trawlers, tugs and barges, and even small river cruise ships make their way along the Intracoastal Waterway.

Whether you’re fuming over a delay, soaking up the scenery or counting your blessings that your light is green, it’s simply impossible to not think about the people who make it all happen.

What DO those people do all day?

Remarkably, there are only five bridge tenders who oversee the Lindsay C. Warren bridge that connects Tyrrell County and Dare County. (Warren, by the way, was a well-known politician for decades and had that new bridge named in his honor when it was finished in 1962 … but everyone just calls it the Alligator River bridge.) They aren’t employed by the NC Department of Transportation, but as contractors through an Elizabeth City company.

Lindsay C. Warren Bridge (a.k.a. Alligator River Bridge). Photo: Jeff Donohue Phoneography

Myers has worked as a bridge tender since 2005 and, while there’s not a supervisor of the crew, he definitely serves as the elder statesman. The Columbia resident is one of three workers who log 80 hours every two weeks, while one works 64 hours and one 32. Those hours get split over two shifts: 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. – and then the 16-hour marathon of 2 p.m. to 6 a.m.

That’s what Myers enjoys working: five 16-hour shifts every two weeks.

“It’s no big thing. It’s a great job for anybody that’s either retired or semi-retired,” he says. “Basically, we live in a 10-by-10 box upstairs. We have a desk, the anemometer in front of us and the radio sitting on top of the console. We do have a TV, a satellite dish. There’s a heater up here, air conditioning, and then downstairs we have a bathroom and one wall with nothing but breakers – there’s a lot of power that comes in.”

All that juice is needed for the star of the show: the swinging span.

Boaters make their way through the Intracoastal Waterway from the Albemarle Sound, into the Alligator River, through the undeveloped natural areas that lead to the Pungo River near Belhaven, and then the Pamlico Sound. While you might guess summer as the busiest time for passages, it’s actually the shoulder season. This past October saw some 1,100 boats pass through, most heading south, while the winter months will account for about 30 to 50 a month. April, May and June are busy again as people head back north.

During his night shift, Myers can see the lights of tugs shining from miles away as they come out of the Pungo River, and he knows they’ll arrive in a few hours. Tug traffic is actually a huge part of the operation, with anywhere from one to five a night passing through between 10 and 4 in the morning.

Boaters love the Alligator River bridge, he says, because it opens by request rather than on a set schedule. They radio in on Channel 13 that they’re coming, and the operators get ready to open. Other than letting commercial traffic always come through, there are no hard and fast rules about when to stop vehicles or ask boats to wait: Myers says that each operator makes his own decisions and is his own boss.

When it comes time to open the bridge, the new control panel put in during the 2018 renovation “pretty much operates itself,” Myers says.

Turn on the stoplights so they go from green to amber to red. Check the cameras for traffic. Put down the oncoming gate on each side. Check traffic again. Put down the barriers. Unlock the wedges that lock the bridge in place. Move the span. Watch the boat(s) pass through and reverse the process.

“The bridge span itself takes about two to maybe two and a half minutes from start to finish to get everything open,” Myers says. “And then you close and that’s all logged down. You log how long it was, how many cars you held up on both ends. Depending on the month, it’s usually 20 to 30. In the summer, mainly we just put 100-plus – we give up trying to count.”

Lindsay C. Warren Bridge (a.k.a. Alligator River Bridge). Photo: Jeff Donohue Phoneography

The boaters usually offer their compliments, telling the operators it’s the best bridge on the Intracoastal. Some are just in a hurry to pass through and worry over the radio if the tender will keep the bridge open after the boat ahead goes through, or close to let cars clear.

While Myers has worked shifts that saw mariners struggle for hours to get into the channel, most of the unusual events happen topside. The red light, especially, is a mere suggestion for some drivers.

“You’d be surprised at how many people run the lights. At least two or three times a week,” Myers says. “I’ve had them where you get one gate down, and they come around the gate. So, it can be nerve-wracking, especially on day shift when you have people going and coming from work.”

Interestingly enough, the bridge also has been used by law enforcement to help with car chases that end at the barricade … with nary a boat in sight. That call from a 911 dispatcher asking for a roadblock definitely helps pass the time. And every once in a while, pedestrians will make their way to the bridge house – hitchhikers, people who say their car died and need to use the phone…

Granted, just getting to and from work is a chore for the bridge tenders. A shift change means calling ahead to give the departing operator a heads-up on your ETA; getting the stop lights turned on and barriers put down to ensure no other traffic reaches the house; then pulling out one vehicle and parking the new one in the tiny space allotted.

Watching the weather is another key part of the job. Foggy conditions make it dangerous to stop traffic on the bridge, so there have been times when boats have had to wait for the driving conditions to clear. Then, of course, there’s the wind. Anything over 35 mph, the span can’t open because the high winds will create just enough of a bounce to prevent the locking mechanisms from coming back together.

“We have our moments out here, but it’s a really great job,” says Myers, who worked 26 years in a copper mine in Arizona before “retiring” with his wife to her eastern NC roots and then learning about the bridge job in a newspaper ad. “We all know that the end is coming soon because they’re supposed to start building the new bridge next year.”

Earlier this year, officials touted a $110 million federal grant that will help pay for the $290 million project to replace the aging structure. The new bridge will still be two lanes but will rise 65 feet over the channel to allow vessels to pass underneath while cars continue overhead.

The operators will have a front-row seat to the action as it unfolds about a hundred yards north of the current span. Myers says that DOT officials have estimated the project will take about three years to complete.

“Until we see barges out there putting equipment up, nobody knows until you start seeing that,” Myers says. “I’m kind of hoping I can hold out and just say, ‘OK, I made it till the end.’ Pretty much when it happens, I’m just gonna walk away. I’m at that age now where I’m done. It’s just a matter of until we see it, that’s when we’ll believe it’s gonna happen.”

Author: CoastalLife