I can never forget the day that the Bayonne
Bridge opened. Why? It
was my birthday in 1931. I celebrated my birthday and the opening
of the bridge by walking over it, along with hundreds of other people.
I
remember a long procession of automobiles, which would now be considered
antique cars, with their flat tops, high fenders, running boards,
and distinctive radiator caps. And the color of those cars was black,
of course.
There were opening ceremonies, but I couldn’t tell you who took part
in them. As an eight year old boy, wearing corduroy knickers met at
the bottom by argyle stockings and high shoes, I was only interested
in looking up at the beautiful arch, and looking down at the clean
waters of the Kill Van Kull.
In those days, my family often traveled to Staten Island
by way of the Bayonne-Port Richmond Ferry. We rode through the farmlands,
gathered wild mushrooms in the woods, and enjoyed the unpolluted beaches
of Staten Island. For several years after the
Bayonne Bridge
opened, we still waited in a line of automobiles on Avenue C at First
Street to the take the ferry
to the island. The reason was that the ferry was only fifteen cents
(or maybe it was twenty five cents) per car, while the bridge toll
was an exorbitant fifty cents.
I was born in Bayonne
and still reside here (sic); and the feature of the city that I brag
about mostly to outsiders is the Bayonne
Bridge, the longest steel
arch span in the world. After all, it is my Birthday
Bridge!
Norman Resnick, who was a lifelong Bayonne
resident died in March 1992. His wife Enid
Resnick and son Ken Resnick
are residents of Bayonne.
His daughter Linda Resnick and family live
in Maryland. He was
also the brother of Albert Resnick of Bayonne.
This article was published in the Bayonne Community News, Wednesday,
November 11, 1981, for the Bayonne Bridge's
50th Anniversary.
