Ringling Bridge

The story of how the Ringling Bridge was built and why people walk across it every day

    If we sit right here, under the shade of the oaks, we can see Ringling Bridge across the bay.  The sun is setting now, and it really paints such a lovely picture, don't you think?  The sailboats are silhouetted against the painted sky and the gulls are finally settling down for the evening.  Have you ever heard the story of the Ringling Bridge and why people walk across it today?  Not many people know about it.  Of course, we all see the cars headed out to the island and people walking across the bridge in their jogging suits, but where did this come from? How did it start? It's a tragic story of love and revenge, and since you've never heard it, I will tell you now.

    A long time ago, before this city was built, a man came from a distant land across the ocean.  He was young, handsome and wealthy beyond imagining.  He saw this beautiful spot by the bay, and the island just beyond, and thought it would be a very nice idea to build a bridge to connect the two.  The bridge went under construction, and everything was developing nicely.  The bridge took a very long time to build, and because he was so far away from his home, the young man decided to explore the growing city to pass the time.  After a day of visiting markets and farmland, he saw a sign for the Ringling Brother's Circus, and thought it would be fun to see some entertainment. 

    As he approached the red and white striped tent, he was careful not to get his shiny shoes dusty from the unpaved earth.  He stood in the entry line, and watched his surroundings with careful observation.  There was so much to see!  Rowdy children ran through the vendor stalls laughing and yelling at each other, well dressed couples tried their luck at throwing rings around bottles, clowns juggled and tumbled, and the smell of cotton spun candy filled the air.  Painted elephants walked carefully through the crowds with their trainers, caged lions yawned in detached boredom, and colorful performers walked quickly to make the next show on time.  As the entryway moved closer, the vendor's heckles were drowned out by the music coming from the arena inside.  Once his ticket was paid, the man went to find a seat on the stained wooden bleachers.

    As the lights when up, sparkling acrobats flipped and soared in the air, and a sequined lady came out astride a beautiful speckled horse with bells on its ankles.  Her smile lit up the room and she stood on the horse's back and flipped onto the ground as the crowd gasped and cheered for her.  She took off her top hat and bowed, and welcomed them to the Ringling Brother's Circus.  As she introduced the first act, a troop of fire breathers and jugglers, the foreign man looked around the small stadium until his eyes fell on a young woman in the front row across the room.

    She was splendid, with bright eyes as blue as the Sarasota Bay, and golden hair that shone in the bright circus lights.  Her smiling mouth was the color of rose petals, and her cheeks were flushed from the excitement of the spectacle before her.  She watched the lead man breathing fire into the air and clapped for him as he swallowed his fire stick, only to bring it out of his mouth again with flames rolling off of his tongue. 

    The foreign man watched her, enraptured with her beauty.  During the intermission, he stood and went to find her in the middle of the meandering crowd.  He saw her half hidden behind an animal crate, speaking softly with the fire breather.  They parted with a kiss, and as she made her way back to the show, the foreign man followed her and sat beside her for the remainder of the evening.  He laughed when she laughed, he clapped when she clapped, and he couldn't take his eyes from her lovely face.  As the show ended, she stood and met with an older couple, and they went to enjoy the outside carnival. 

    The foreign man followed the family through the fair, and as mother and daughter enjoyed the pony rides, the foreign man went to her father and introduced himself.  He spoke of his wealth and his bridge and the young girl's beauty, expressing his desire to marry the man's daughter.  The old man was impressed, and agreed to introduce the foreign man to the young girl.

    They began their courtship, and the rich foreigner was dismayed to find that he could never make her smile the way she had that night at the circus.  Because he wanted to make her happy, he would bring her back to the arena just to hear her laugh again.  He noticed that she was happiest when the fire breathers were performing, and when she excused herself to freshen up during the intermission, he followed her like a spy.  His heart broke when he saw her speaking to the troop leader behind the animal crates, and he was filled with fury when she returned to their seat with soot on her hands and face.  He felt revenge in his heart.

    Because he was accustomed to getting what he wanted, he dismissed the feelings of the young girl, and proceeded to court, and eventually marry her, according to his wishes.  The young girl's parents approved of their daughter marrying such a handsome and wealthy man, and they encouraged her to accept his proposal, even though her heart belonged to another man. The foreign man continued to harbor his feelings of revenge, and decided that to claim the girl who was rightfully his, he would marry her immediately and do away with the fire breathing circus performer.

    The bridge was complete, and the young woman and foreign man married.  He had built a sprawling house overlooking the bridge and the bay, and fashioned it after his lovely young bride.  He built it in the style of his homeland, with a domed roof the color of gold to match the young girl's hair, accented with rose to honor her lips, and facing the blue waters of the Sarasota Bay that so closely matched her eyes.  The night of their wedding party, the foreign man invited the Ringling Circus performers to entertain the guests and his new bride, knowing also that his opportunity for revenge would present itself on that evening.

    When the performances were finished, and the guests had left for the night, the foreign man could not find his bride.  He looked through the house and as he stepped onto the balcony overlooking the bay, he saw her in deep conversation with the fire breather.  They embraced, and the rage coursed through the foreign man's veins.  He ran to the secret lovers on the bridge and fought with the usurper of his love.  As they struggled, the foreign man threw the fire breather from the bridge to the rocks below, where he lay still as the current pulled him into the bay.

    The young bride was overcome with despair and refused to speak to her foreign husband ever again.  She spent her days walking back and forth across the bridge, hoping that somehow, she would find her lover once more and embrace him as she had done on their last night together. One morning while walking across the bridge, she could take the pain no longer, and she flung herself into the Sarasota Bay to be reunited with her true love.

    The foreign man wept, and saw how his jealousy and possessiveness drove his bride to kill herself.  He realized that she truly loved the fire breather, and out of his continued love and longing for her, he named the bridge Ringling.  As the years passed, the foreign man was overwhelmed with guilt and desperation.  He began walking back and forth on the bridge looking for solace, the way his young bride once did, and eventually understanding that he would never find true love because of his selfish nature, he stepped over the edge, into the Sarasota Bay and perished alone in the blue waters.

    These days, not many people remember the true story of why people walk back and forth across the bridge, and most just think that it's for exercise.  But if you know the real story, and you listen closely at the touch of dusk, you'll hear the soft wail of the broken hearted foreign man in the cry of the gulls.  And the sunset is always red, like fire on the tongue, or the flush in the cheeks of a young woman who has reunited with her true love forever.

Author's Note

This is a made up history of a landmark in my town, just for fun

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

D.connolly,
"Ringling Bridge" Your imagination had a wonderful time in writing this great tale! The endearment of human frailty intermingled with love made the characters so real. Your foreign fellow who is besought-ed with the beauty of a youn lady actully made me a little nervous as the story progressed. I knew it was going to become complex. Your ability to put a story together is breathtaking and reading this colorful, detailed, action packed story was pure joy. Good Job!
Bless you.
Kathy

[D Connolly]

Oh, thank-you so much Kathy! That's so nice to hear that you enjoyed it so much

[richieb]

Dani,
A very well written story. Your excellent descriptions created a clear imagery of the characters and background. Your story is told in the "Old School" manner with morals and values. Thank you for sharing.
Blessings,
Richie b.

[D Connolly]

thank-you so much Richie :)

[Samuel Dickens]

This is a clever bit of made-up history, and the huge dose of pathos works well. Tragic death associated with landmarks is a great attention-getter, and reminds me of some of the fifties tales in which teens die on a certain stretch of road, curve, bridge, or railroad tracks. (I'm now humming "teen angel, can you hear me...")

[D Connolly]

thank-you Samuel! What is "pathos"? Oh great, now I'm humming Teen Angel!!

[Samuel Dickens]

PATHOS:
1. A quality, as of an experience or a work of art, that arouses feelings of pity, sympathy, tenderness, or sorrow.
2. The feeling, as of sympathy or pity, so aroused.

[D Connolly]

got it. Thank-you!

[Cyprian Van Dyke]

Interesting story and well written. Despite it's sad ending it was a delight to read, for you explained things well. Tyfs!

[D Connolly]

Thank-you Cyprian :)

[Cyprian Van Dyke]

You're most welcome!

[Valentine]

Very well written. I really enjoyed it. Kathie

[D Connolly]

Thank-you very much!

[redzone]

made up history or not, this was a wonderful story D... my folks live in Naples, not too far from the bridge you speak of... if I ever get the chance to walk across I will drop a red rose for her and her fire breather...
enjoyed immensely...

redzone

[D Connolly]

Thank-you so much! So you know about our rich circus history here... I'm glad you enjoyed the story :)

[Lorry]

This is brilliant....and may even be brillianter for the fact that it is fictional. You should so start a tour of the bridge and pass this off as a true story, you'd make a fortune. :)
It reminds me of the Glasgow coat of arms, the place where I was born. It has a bird, a fish, a tree and a bell on it, and obviously someone seeing this, felt sad, because they wrote this about it and it has now become the poem to go with the coat of arms
....Here is the tree that never grew, here's the bird that never flew, here's the fish that never swam, here's the bell that never rang.

[D Connolly]

Oh that is sad!

[Lorry]

I know. Aren't coats of arms meant to be bright and cheery? :)

[D Connolly]

One of the many things I love about this town is that it's full of circus performers, artists, and musicians. One wouldn't think so if you've just come for a quick visit, because it's a very touristy kind of town as well, but if you really start getting in with the locals, you'll see that people here keep tigers and elephants as pets and practice trapeze in their back yards and we have whole streets that artists live on and display their work in the yards... it's a pretty amazing and cool place to live

[emmajoy]

Love the idea of telling the history of a place in such a visual way. Your words, gentle and interesting phrases make it a real tale ripely told to your readers.. until the sudden 'he was filled with fury when she returned to their seat with soot on her hands and face. He felt revenge in his heart... .. .. The bridge was complete, and the young woman and foreign man married. '

Although the details that followed made sense and the sadness of the deaths was well put, for me, from the above point it seemed to gallop along. Maybe the emotional flow and colour faded a lttle. Having said that i found it fascinating and want to read more of your stories. Thank you so much for sharing.

[D Connolly]

Thank-you for reading! I also felt that I rushed through it a little. Maybe I will take some time to revise. You know how first drafts go...

[emmajoy]

The first area was wonderfully detailed but quite lyrical> I was the latter that altered. However, it's a wonderful story and very interesting. I'm no expert, believe me, far from it!

[D Connolly]

Hey, when you're right, you're right! Like I said, I thought the same thing. Thank-you for the constructive insight, I really appreciate it when people are honest about that. It helps me grow as a writer

[PhoenixDown]

"...you'll hear the soft wail of the broken hearted foreign man in the cry of the gulls." Such an awesome line. I love what you've done here. This is so neat. I may do the same for a place near me. You are so creative. Creative on top of creative, even. I also greatly enjoy the carnival vibe. It only adds to the intrigue you've already imagined. Neat!

Phoenix

[D Connolly]

thank-you Phoenix! I'm glad you enjoyed it.