The "Bridge", as it has always been called, was a forbidden place, my mother warned me as I was growing up. "There have been dead bodies found underneath that disgusting place, and you don't want to end up a corpse do you??" she would tell me. There actually were bodies found underneath the bridge, one of them being found in a dufflebag, dismembered. Gangs would regularly hang out under it, tagging their monikers on the huge cement columns that were scattered about the arcitectural wonder. Drug users, especially herion addicts, would leave dirty needles scatterred about. But as a child, I was enthralled by the danger and mystery lingering underneath this bridge. In the center of it ran a large river, which was the entire point the of the bridge in the first place. Fisherman would travel to the center, in order to fish, but few ever caught anything better than a mid size tarpon. To get to this wonderland of hazard, you must first journey beyond the park and over the railroad tracks, which were another large influence in my life. Once over the tracks, you must climb through a cut open hole in the barbed wire fence surrounding the compound. My friends and I pretended we were war heroes, crossing enemies lines, danger lurking around and bush, or in this case, support beam.