A Tree (always) grows in Brooklyn

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I am supposed to reserve my blog on the iconic Brooklyn Bridge, the bridge that connects Manhattan and Brooklyn borroughs of New York to a later post, after I read the classic Betty Smith book, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn perhaps but here it is now though I have not continued reading the book yet. I am just so excited not to share my two visits to the bridge, more like one and a half walk.


My first visit was more like a halfway walk only as I got cramps on my legs from walking non-stop for days. I started from the Brooklyn Side of the bridge and only reached the first arc. Why were there a lot of people wanting to cross the bridge despite rain or shine? 


Brooklyn Bridge is the highway to a collective dream. It was first built in 1883. Abraham Hewitt profoundly put in words this work of art, engineering and practicality. Referring to the bridge in his address during the opening, he beautifully declared:

"It is not the work of any one man or of any one age. It is the result of the study, of the experience, and of the knowledge of many men in many ages. It is not merely a creation; it is a growth. It stands before us today as the sum and epitome of human knowledge; as the very heir of the ages; as the latest glory of centuries of patient observation, profound study and accumulated skill, gained, step by step, in the never-ending struggle of man to subdue the forces of nature to his control and use.— Abram Hewitt"

In her book, Betty Smith likens her protagonist to a tree that grows in brooklyn, standing for years, growing in a busy Brooklyn soil and observing. I am excited to further read the book, a coming-of-age of a writer I surmise.


On my second visit, I got there and crossed the bridge. Amazingly, it felt easy and short this time as my legs got stronger, the sun was setting, and I got a new set of shoes. 

As in any point in our lives, when it is really our time to cross the bridge, we can and we we will without hesitation or reservations. We can reach the other end smoothly as if we did it without prior obstacles, and obstacles became history. Another tree is growing in Brooklyn soon, I surmise.














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