Childhood Memories

Fascinating Stuff.

I have an apparent memory from when I was a little boy. I was in the car with my parents, driving somewhere, and I remember we had to cross over the railway line. It was a detour due to construction for a flyover bridge being built along Athlone Avenue, just by the cemetery.

I remember this so vividly I have often shared this memory with my parents. Unsurprisingly, they do not share this little piece of history.
My memory is of a historic moment, the construction of a bridge that has since been completed and now stands strong, generation after generation.

Well, it gets better than just a memory. It turns out that the bridge in question was built long before my dad hit puberty, and well before my mum even started laying eggs.

It is interesting how this memory of this bridge construction lives so strongly and remains so clearly imprinted in my mind. Of even more interest, my parents have their own kind of memory connected to this bridge.

Something About the Bridge.

Many years ago, my parents were on their way home from an event at my uncle and aunt’s place. At the time, they lived in an apartment in town. As my parents waited for the last bus, they were offered a lift home by a kind gentleman who said he was travelling in the same direction. Unsure whether the bus would even arrive, they accepted the offer and were on they way.

The journey took them down Main Street and onto Athlone Avenue. They sailed along and all was well, until just as they crossed the fly-over bridge, shortly after the cemetery, the man’s car stalled and fell silent. According to my dad, he offered his assistance to help with any engine issues, but the man did not respond.

Then, in a sudden moment, the man demanded that they get out of his car. Shocked, my parents looked at each other. The man shouted again, louder this time, ordering them to get out. They did so immediately and began to walk away. The man stayed in his car and said nothing else. After walking a few metres, they turned around, and there was no car and no man anywhere in sight.

To end their story, they tell us they held each other’s hands and ran non-stop for just over 1Km all the way home.

Even bridges have stories.