My Right Foot---Day 15: The George Washington Bridge. Again.

After I walked across the George Washington Bridge two weeks ago, a friend of mine said, “Did you see the lighthouse?”

Lighthouse?

Apparently, there is a lighthouse at the base of the George Washington Bridge.

How could I have missed this?

According on an online search, the Little Red Lighthouse was originally built in the 1880s and was located in Sandy Hook, New Jersey. But, in 1921, boats rounding a particularly treacherous corner of the Hudson known as Jeffery’s Hook were still getting into quite a few accidents (despite a red pole being hung out to warn them of the danger). The Little Red Lighthouse was moved from Sandy Hook to Washington Heights where it remained in use for the next ten years or so---the gigantic George Washington Bridge that towered over it being a more obvious reminder of the danger ahead.

The lighthouse was about to be torn down and auctioned off when suddenly, a children’s book appeared in 1942 that put a face (literally, a face) on the lighthouse and turned it into the most beloved lighthouse in America---The Little Red Lighthouse and the Big Gray Bridge by Hildegarde Swift.

It was the Little Lighthouse That Could. The Little Lighthouse that was so proud of its service guiding boats safely down the river. But then one day, some workmen came and started digging to make way for a HUGE bridge that towered over its head. The Little Red Lighthouse was sad and felt unwanted and useless. But then one day, the Little Red Lighthouse comes to the aid of its friend, The Big Grey Bridge. And---Spoiler Alert: The Little Red Lighthouse saves the day and is SO proud of what it was able to do.

Because even though it was small, it was very important, indeed.

In the 1940s, little children all over the country sent in their pennies and nickels and dimes to help preserve their beloved lighthouse. The lighthouse was saved. And, on September 21, 2002, the Little Red Lighthouse was designated a Literary Landmark by the City of New York.

Today, midway thru my 30 days of this adventure, I decided to go back where it all started. To the George Washington Bridge.

You see, almost nine months ago, I decided to stop submitting my writing for awhile. I'd gone through a failed relationship and was now failing as a writer---I needed to go into a bit of a cocoon.

I continued to write. Went out with friends. Worked. Did all those things one does in the normal course of life. But I didn’t want to put myself out there for anyone or anything. I preferred my emotional cocoon.

Some friends finally pressured me into submitting some material to a local theatre group. I did. Twice. Worked hard on my submissions. Nothing ever came of it.

I picked myself back up again and stumbled back into the same failed relationship I’d worked so hard on before. I gave it my all. Nothing came of it.

Like the Little Red Lighthouse, I’d been feeling a bit useless and unwanted in this Big Grey City.

And then, two weeks ago, I walked across the George Washington Bridge.

I felt better. Like myself again.

This afternoon, I headed back to look for the lighthouse. The Little Lighthouse That Could.

I had a rough idea of where it was. But no idea how to get there. I got to the entrance of the bridge that I walked up two weeks ago and suddenly realized that the path couldn’t possibly lead anywhere near the spot. A woman wearing a full-on Comedy Central biking outfit stopped as she watched me standing on the footpath looking quite lost.

“Do you know how to get to the lighthouse?” I asked.

Well…she wasn’t sure. But she knew I was currently going the wrong way. The nearby traffic and sound of the rushing water drowned out half of what she said. But there was a stairway to the South I could take---but she mentioned something about it not being very heavily trafficked. And did she just say to “be careful”? I couldn’t hear.

And then she mentioned some other pathway way up to the North. But suggested that the Southern stairwell would definitely be quicker.

I thanked her and headed South.

At first, the pathway seemed promising.

But then, it quickly degenerated into this:

There wasn’t a soul anywhere in sight. It was like a location for an opening scene of Law & Order with the dead body lying on the ground. This was where you went to get raped and killed. I stopped and looked around cautiously. I couldn’t see the end of this turning out to be anything more than a highway or a head injury. Not only that, but the clouds were hovering overhead casting an ominous glow over the river and the weeds, beer cans, graffiti and the desolate highway overpass.

A few more tags later, I turned around and headed back.

Sure, I was frustrated, but according to the bike lady, there was another, better path.

I walked around for almost half an hour before I saw what looked to be the Northern pathway to the lighthouse below.

Again, nothing but highway and garbage lining the path.

As I stood in the middle of something that appeared to be a meridian filled with construction cones and thick slabs of broken cement---a car slowed down. Then, a few yards from me, completely stopped.

Is this where he points the gun and forces me into the car? No one else around. Just me and the underpass and this dark-tinted window car.

And then this creeped me out.

Once again, I turned around and went back.

This just wasn’t going to work. What was wrong with me? Why didn’t I research this better? How could I screw up going to a lighthouse? I decided to just head back home.

I felt defeated and awful. I went North. I went South. I really took some risks. I really tried. But, once again, I had failed.

I remembered an overlook point at the end of 181st street with a fabulous view of the GWB. I decided to stop there before I went home to at least see if I could get a picture of the lighthouse from afar for the archives. Maybe even take a picture of my right foot in a puddle of mud, symbolizing my failure.

Then, just as I got to the overlook point and took one final look at the bridge, I noticed some people walking back from the North with their bikes. I looked to the right and noticed a green park-looking sign a few blocks ahead.

Could it be?

With the heavy clouds hanging over my head, I walked towards the green sign.

Oh my god. This HAD to be it!

And, I swear to god, just as I took this picture, the sun popped out from behind the clouds!

Even the pathway seemed brighter!

And the area was pretty and clean and you could actually see the river and it was SO lovely!

And then, I saw a scarlet silhouette from behind the skeleton of the bridge.

YA!!!!!

The Little Red Lighthouse!

It’s quite small and was closed today. But it was clean and friendly and beckoning to the small group of people who had also come there to see the most beloved lighthouse in America.

A plaque told the story of the lighthouse.

A few minutes later, I began wandering over the rocky edge of the river; taking pictures of the mossy stones; trying to get a different view of the lighthouse.

While rambling through the debris at the river’s edge, I found this:

Looks like some sort of iron stake that was used to nail pieces of wood together. It’s really old. Almost petrified. But I loved the textures and the colors and the way the iron looked like a bit of ruin along the shore.

I walked away from the river and the lighthouse with my new thing-find in my hand.

If the Little Red Lighthouse could do great things---then so could I.

Today, I took risks and didn’t give up. Tomorrow, I will do the same.

I wonder what else I’ll find?