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May 15, 2009

A Second Narrows tragedy

Eric Jamieson talks about the story behind the accident.
OLGA LIVSHIN

Author Eric Jamieson is not a professional historian, although he has always been a history buff. But this former banker knew a good story when he heard it, and his book, Tragedy at Second Narrows: The Story of the Ironworkers Memorial Bridge, unravels the tale of the tragic 1958 collapse of the Second Narrows Bridge during its construction and fills a gap in Vancouver's history.

Jamieson was at the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver May 10 to present an illustrated talk about his book to coincide with the new exhibition at the Jewish Museum and Archives of British Columbia, called Vancouver: Bridging its History 1895-1980, which opened on May 6.

Jamieson has written historical articles for various publications since the late 1980s and, in 1996, he co-authored his first book, South Pole 900 Miles on Foot, with Gareth Wood.

The research and writing about the 1958 incident took Jamieson four years to complete. He explained how he came up with the idea: "Nobody wrote such a book before. Of course, every June 17, the anniversary of the tragedy, there are numerous articles and memoirs of the survivors in local publications, but nobody wrote down the entire story."

According to Jamieson, the tale of the bridge collapse had become an urban legend and, like every legend, it changes in the retelling. Jamieson decided that he had to put an end to the legend and uncover the truth once and for all. He started his research, spending hours at the library. A few months later, his son introduced Jamieson and his wife to his fiancée. By a strange coincidence, the young woman happened to be a grandniece of one of the ironworkers who died during the collapse. "That was a synchronicity that proved I had to do it," Jamieson recalled.

He advertised in the newspapers for anyone associated with the bridge to contact him, and many did. In the end, he interviewed more than 50 people, collecting testimonials of the survivors, their families, engineers, lawyers and everyone else who could shed light on the story. Everyone he talked to gave him another name, pointing the author towards more details, until the research materials piled up and he could start writing.

In the course of his presentation, Jamieson used photos and diagrams from the book to explain to his audience what happened before, during and after that fateful day, June 17, 1958, when the bridge fell. According to his narrative, the event had affected a great many people, from the ironworkers and their families to the engineers, politicians and lawyers. Everyone who lived in Canada at that time learned the story, and several lawyers, journalists and photographers made their names on it.

The chapter about the collapse reads like a thriller, with tension climbing to unbearable heights. Some tidbits are unbelievably bittersweet, seemingly obtained during Jamieson's countless interviews, like those of a reporter who shot pictures of the rescue operation, one roll after another, instead of helping with the rescue. The man felt guilty, but couldn't stop shooting, and then he lost a roll of his photographs when it fell through a hole in his pocket into the inlet. Of course, that photographer's story wasn't the only one. The multiple photographs illustrating the book are simply stunning in their expressive visual power.

After the collapse and the heroic, but chaotic, rescue, came the parts of investigation and blame shifting, incumbent with insurance claims. A Royal Commission determined that the reasons for the collapse were complex, involving an engineering mistake and a sub-standard steel shipment. The culprit that started the collapse – a temporary support structure called "falsework" – in that instant proved to be truly false.

In the book, the author delves deeply into the painstaking technical details to make his readers understand what really happened. He uses a lot of engineering data and the ironworkers' professional jargon, so much so that at times, a regular reader might find some portions of the book incomprehensible. On the other hand, Jamieson's technical explanations are so expert that modern engineers, who have reviewed the book, considered it a guide to the bridge building of the era. One former engineer, present at the lecture, entered into a discussion with the author, comparing engineering practices in the United States and Canada from the time of the bridge collapse until now.

The most important part of the book is the accident itself and its aftermath, including the Royal Commission that investigated the tragedy. And the real heroes of the book are the ironworkers, the people who built the bridge and who suffered from the tragedy.

Jamieson's utmost respect towards the bridge builders, the steel workers' courage and expertise, breathes life into the more technical pages, animating them with human emotions. He writes about the lack of safety devices and the ironworkers' disdain for fear. He writes about their competence and strength and their "industrial high-wire act," which required instant team co-ordination and profound understanding of steel and its quirks.

The book was published last fall. It received glowing reviews and was on the best-seller list for a number of weeks. It has finally plugged a significant gap in the written history of Vancouver. In recognition of Jamieson's contribution to Canadian history, he was awarded the 2009 B.C. Lieutenant-Governor's Medal for historical writing. The medal was to be presented to the writer on May 14, during an award ceremony at the B.C. Historical Federation's annual conference in Nelson, B.C.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer.

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