Our Tyne Bridge...

The Tyne Bridge is an iconic structure, especially for those who hail from in and around Gateshead and Newcastle upon Tyne.  It is a frequent feature on postcards, and photographs and is the focus of many an artist, who bring the bridge to life on paper.

For those not from the area, it is still a recognisable landmark.  It marks the beginning of the Great North Run every Autumn – an event that is filled with fun, joy and is the culmination of hard work and perseverance.  In 2012, Bear Grylls zip-wired from the bridge with the Olympic Torch.

To me, the Bridge is a sign of home and with home comes safety.  It is what I know and choose to know and I am fiercely proud of my roots and being from the North East too.  Even just living in Durham, when I past the Angel of the North and the Tyne Bridge and my way to and from work, something in me finds comfort in seeing them.

Yet, to others, the Bridge is nothing but an instrument in their own self destruction.  Although it is rare (there has been around 30 instances altogether), when I hear about someone taking their life by jumping from the Bridge, it affects me. 

I work on the quayside in Newcastle.  A couple of years ago, we saw the emergency services rescue a body from the water and begin working on saving the person’s life.  It was awful.  On one hand, I couldn’t bear to be seeing this, yet on the other hand I kept watching, hoping and praying that maybe, they could save their life.  The lady died in hospital later on.  It turned out that she was in her 30s with young children at home.

What makes someone get to the point where the only way out they can logically (to them) see is death?

To me, it will always be a symbol of homecoming, but it just goes to show that what means something to one person, could mean completely the opposite to another.