Cold Open

It’s the summer of 1841 in rural Pennsylvania.

John Roebling, a German-American civil engineer, works feverishly at his desk. Until recently, John was a farmer. But when he failed to achieve any success working in the field, he decided to fall back on his training as an engineer. Now, the lean, bolding 35-year-old is hoping to win a contract from the Pennsylvania Canal Commission to improve their system for transporting boats across the Allegheny Mountains.

John has come up with a potentially game-changing innovation. He noticed that the hemp rope used to haul the boats is unreliable and prone to fraying and snapping. So he devised a new, stronger kind of rope made of interwoven iron threads. John hopes that this innovative wire cable will become the new industry standard – and catapult him to fame and fortune.

John puts down his pencil, stands, and walks across the room.

He pushes open the door, and steps outside.

John has enlisted the help of half the town in manufacturing his wire cable, and his backyard is a hive of activity. John watches with satisfaction as neighbors, friends, and relatives carefully weave together the metal strands.

He strolls across the yard to the coils of completed wire cable stacked by the barn.

Taking the end of one length of cable, John clambers up a ladder and positions himself on the edge of the barn roof.

He calls out to some of his laborers, instructing them to take hold of the other end and stretch it out across the yard.

The elongated wire cable forms a long, graceful curve from the ground to the roof.

As John admires the strength and durability of his creation, he pictures the aqueducts and cable cars that will be revolutionized by his design. Above all, he imagines the suspension bridges that he dreams of one day building, vast constructions that, with John’s help, will soon span the width and breadth of mighty rivers all across the land.

John’s wire cable will take the engineering industry by storm. He will win contracts to build bridges in Pittsburgh, Trenton, and Cincinnati, establishing himself as one of the central figures at the heart of America’s industrial boom. But even as John enjoys his newfound success, the ambitious engineer will yearn for more, aspiring to build not just any bridge – but the greatest bridge ever constructed. That ambition will eventually be realized, when John Roebling wins a contract to design a suspension bridge across the East River from Manhattan to Brooklyn, a massive structure that will take sixteen years to complete before it finally opens to the public on May 24th, 1883.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is May 24th, 1883: The Brooklyn Bridge Opens to the Public.

Act One: Man of Steel

It’s the winter of 1852 in New York City; over thirty years before the first pedestrians will walk across Brooklyn Bridge.

A ferry boat labors through the icy waters of the East River between Manhattan and Brooklyn. Standing at the prow is 46-year-old civil engineer John Roebling and his teenage son, Washington. John stares down at the river, watching as the ferry struggles to cut through the frozen slush. Eventually, the boat grinds to a halt, forcing the captain to send out a pair of deckhands to break up the ice with sledgehammers.

Watching this unfortunate scene unfold sparks an idea in John’s mind: if there was a bridge connecting Manhattan and Brooklyn, there would no longer be any need for these slow and unreliable ferries, which are always getting stuck in the ice. John inspects the distance across the East River – it’s far wider than any bridge project he’s ever undertaken. But his dark, intense eyes are already glinting at the prospect of achieving such a monumental feat. By his side, John’s son Washington recognizes his father’s determination and watches him with a mixture of admiration and fear.

But whether or not a suspension bridge across the East River would be possible, John must set aside his ambitions for now. He is currently under contract to design a railroad bridge across the Niagara River in Upstate New York. If successful, that bridge will be a major border crossing between Canada and the United States, and become the first railway suspension bridge in history.

John is grateful to be overseeing the project, especially because he almost missed out on the opportunity. The bridge company had originally chosen a different engineer for the project, John’s sworn rival, Charles Ellet Junior. Charles is a flamboyant raconteur, and he beat John to the contract by dazzling the bridge company with his wit and charm. By contrast, John is dour and stern, and the representatives from the bridge company didn’t warm to his unsmiling Germanic style. But when Charles was fired following a dispute over pay, John was invited to complete the job.

But when John arrives in Niagara Falls to oversee construction, he has his work cut out for him. He finds Charles’ initial designs to be deeply flawed. So he rips up the previous plans and starts afresh with his own meticulous and scientific approach to bridge-building.

John designs the bridge with two levels: one for pedestrians and carriages, and an upper deck for trains. Iron cables running the length of the bridge are connected to two pairs of limestone towers positioned at either end. When vehicles and trains pass over the bridge, the pressure is converted to tension in these cables, which are supported by the limestone towers. And for further rigidity, John includes metal trusses running vertically down from the main cables, lending the structure the appearance of a giant cage.

John’s blueprint is criticized by other engineers, who doubt the design’s structural integrity. But John is confident in his calculations. And on March 15th, 1855, a train successfully makes its way across the river, making John’s ambitious structure the first railway suspension bridge in the world.

Its success helps John secure even more lucrative contracts. A year later, he is chosen from a handful of competing candidates to design a new suspension bridge spanning the Ohio River from Cincinnati to Covington. But the construction process there is fraught with delays. Following a major downturn in the US economy in 1857, the bridge company runs out of money and construction grinds to a halt. Then, in 1861, the project is delayed once again following the outbreak of the American Civil War. Finally, in 1866, ten years after John first started work on the project, the Covington-Cincinnati Suspension Bridge is finally opened to the public. Spanning over a thousand feet, it is the longest suspension bridge ever built.

But John doesn’t bask in the glory of his latest achievement for long. By 1867, the following year, the New York State Senate has passed a bill authorizing the construction of a bridge across the East River from Manhattan to Brooklyn. Soon after, the New York and Brooklyn Bridge Company is formed, and John Roebling is appointed its chief engineer.

For John, this is the culmination of his career so far, and the highest-profile assignment he has ever received. John knows he needs to pull out all the stops, so he drafts a design proposal befitting such a prestigious commission.

His bridge will be longer and taller than any ever built. It will include a roadway for carriages, elevated rail tracks, and a leisurely promenade for pedestrians. By the time of its completion, it will rank alongside the Pyramids of Egypt as one of humankind’s most impressive feats of engineering. Before that day can arrive, a freak accident will cut short John Roebling’s life, and plunge the future of the Brooklyn Bridge into doubt.

Act Two: Troubled Water

It’s June 28th, 1869; fourteen years before the Brooklyn Bridge will be opened to the public.

John Roebling squats at the edge of the dock at Fulton Ferry Landing on the banks of the East River. The renowned engineer strokes his wiry goatee as he scans the water, surveying the final construction site chosen for the foundations of his bridge.

John is so deep in thought that he doesn’t notice a ferry steaming straight toward him. It's moving too fast and is clearly out of control. There is a high-pitched squeal of rupturing metal as the boat slams into the dock and John feels a sudden surge of intense pain. He looks down to see that his foot has been crushed between the ferry’s hull and the fender that surrounds the jetty.

John’s assistants whisk him away to the nearby home of his son, Washington. A doctor arrives and informs John that the toes on his right foot will need to be amputated. John receives this news with grim resignation.

Drenched in sweat, he lies down on a bed and grits his teeth as the doctor performs the surgery. John doesn’t believe in modern medicine, so he refused any anesthetic – and the pain is excruciating. John's son Washington watches from the doorway, the color slowly draining from his face as his father’s toes are removed, and once they have all been amputated, the doctor washes the wounds with alcohol and wraps the bloody foot in bandages. But these measures won’t be enough to stave off infection. Less than a month after the accident, John Roebling dies from tetanus.

With his father dead, Washington Roebling becomes the chief engineer of the Brooklyn Bridge project. And for him, a man who has spent his entire life desperately trying to win the approval of his stern and often unavailable father, this is an opportunity to finish what John started, and in doing so, finally, step out of his father’s shadow.

But it is a daunting task. Washington has learned a lot from working as John’s assistant over the years. But with more than 2,000 laborers under his watch, this is by far the biggest and most complex project that Washington has ever undertaken.

The first step is to lay the foundations. For this, Washington designs two caissons, watertight containers that are submerged to the bottom of the river, providing dry areas for workers to clean away silt and pour cement. Though ingenious contraptions, the caissons also present risks. Compressed air is pumped into the containers to equalize pressure and prevent water from crushing the metal walls of the caissons. When workers return to the surface, the sudden change in air pressure can lead to decompression sickness, or “the bends” – a condition that can lead to nausea, blindness, and even paralysis.

Despite these dangers, Washington leads by example. The young man spends every day submerged on the riverbed, laboring alongside his men inside the caisson. It’s hot and tiring work. The air pressure gives men raging headaches, and Washington struggles to keep up morale.

One day, around a year into construction, Washington is returning to the surface after a long afternoon working underwater, when his vision blurs and he becomes aware of a tingling in his extremities. At the time he reaches the surface, Washington can barely stand, and he knows that he has developed decompression sickness. Washington staggers home, where a doctor prescribes morphine for the pain.

Months pass, and Washington’s condition deteriorates. He starts losing his eyesight and then his hearing. He still visits the construction site occasionally, though he cuts a diminished figure, hobbling with a cane and woozy from the morphine. Eventually, the engineer realizes that he can no longer safely oversee the work himself. But he doesn’t want to relinquish control completely. So Washington asks his wife, Emily, to supervise the construction in his absence, reporting back to him on the progress of the bridge.

So it's Emily who takes over Washington’s main responsibilities, acting as the on-site supervisor. She faces opposition at first from Washington’s assistants, who resent taking orders from a woman. But Emily proves herself to be a tough and competent project manager. She quickly learns the basics of bridge building – the strength of certain materials, the intricacies of cable construction, and the mathematical calculations of stress, pressure, and tension. And eventually, Emily earns the begrudging respect of the senior engineers.

But as the decade wears on, the bridge takes shape, but Washington’s health gets worse every day. Confined to his sickbed, the only person he sees is Emily, who provides daily reports on the construction’s progress. In 1882, representatives from the bridge company approach Emily to inform her that Washington can no longer retain the title of chief engineer – not in his current condition. But Emily lobbies fiercely on behalf of her husband. After all his suffering, she wants him to experience the honor of seeing through the completion of the bridge as its chief engineer.

Thanks to Emily’s devotion and loyalty, the bridge company will back down and Washington will remain in charge – if only in title. In practice, Emily will oversee the final stages of construction. And when work finally ends the following spring, it will be Emily Roebling who takes the first steps across the brand new Brooklyn Bridge.

Act Three: Opening Day

It’s May 24th, 1883, a bright sunny day in New York City.

Thousands of people have gathered around the water's edge to witness the opening of the Brooklyn Bridge. After thirteen years of grueling work, the great marvel of modern engineering is finally ready for use.

Emily Roebling stands at the front of a gaggle of local politicians and dignitaries. The only woman in a crowd of men, Emily's white frock and sunhat stands out against the sea of dark suits. Emily admires the stirring sight of the huge stone and iron structure, rising magnificently from the gray water of the East River. Stretching almost 6,000 feet in length, and rising over 1500 feet into the air, the Brooklyn Bridge is the largest bridge ever constructed – a testament to the men and women who built it, and a true badge of honor for the city.

As the New York's mayor gives an address, Emily reflects on the turbulent construction process – the tragic death of the bridge's original designer; her father-in-law, her husband's role in laying the foundations, before decompression sickness left him bedridden and half-blind; and finally, her own contribution in seeing through the construction to the finish.

Now Emily has been given the honor of becoming the first person to cross the Brooklyn Bridge. And when the mayor finishes speaking, the young woman boards a carriage. A bystander hands her a rooster – a popular symbol of victory – and with the bird perched on her lap, Emily beams as the carriage lurches forward and rattles across the wooden roadway in the middle of the bridge.

Within the first 24 hours of its opening, more than a quarter million men, women, and children will stroll across the Brooklyn Bridge. With its unprecedented size and two monumental towers, the bridge will become known as the "eighth wonder of the world." Today, approximately 30,000 pedestrians use the bridge every day, walking along the elegant promenade originally designed by John Roebling in the 1860s. Since its opening, the Bridge has become an iconic landmark on the city skyline, and one of America's most famous structures, a lasting legacy that was set in stone following the bridge’s unveiling on May 24th, 1883.

Outro

Next on History Daily. May 25th, 1521. Holy Roman Emperor Charles V passes the Edict of Worms, condemning German theologian Martin Luther and sparking Europe’s Protestant Reformation.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Mollie Baack.

Music by Lindsay Graham.

This episode is written and researched by Joe Viner.

Produced by Alexandra Currie-Buckner.

Executive Producers are Steven Walters for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.