The Burning of the Bridge

by Jean Scott McNeill

Jean with her friend “Pee Wee’s” Mo-Ped, 1958

In 1948, when I was five years old, my mom, dad, sister and I moved to the “Mill Village.” We bought a house on Twin Street. I thought that was the biggest house that I had ever seen.

There was a grocery store just five houses from where we lived, and my mom and I would go there everyday to get a coke and a candy bar.

I went to Avondale kindergarten for three years before I started to school. I went to B.B. Comer Memorial High School from first grade until I graduated. Those were all fun years, but the highlight of each year was the burning of the dye-ditch bridge. When I was little, my mom always took me trick or treating, and I always begged to watch the kids burn the bridge. This has been a Halloween ritual for as long as I can remember.

A gang of (mostly) BB Comer Football Players looking for action

When I was old enough to go trick-or-treating by myself, I would sneak down there with my friends to watch the exciting event. A lot of preparations went into the bridge burning. About a month before Halloween, tires were brought to the bridge and hidden underneath.

The night of Halloween, the police would sit at the bridge in hopes to catch somebody burning it, but everybody was too smart. As soon as the police drove away, kids would come from everywhere and drag the tires onto the bridge. Gas was poured on them and huge flames would shoot upward to the sky. Boy, what a beautiful sight. It burned for hours, and most of the time all night. Then it smoldered most of the next day. Well, I never really took part in it until my senior year, when the football players decided that they wanted to be the ones to burn the bridge that Halloween. Everything went very smoothly and, of course, there were dozens of kids to watch it. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, when the players decided to get somebody to hold their football jackets. These were prized possessions, and they certainly didn’t want them to get burned or smoked up. They chose me to take care of the jackets. I was so excited, and I considered it to be an honor.

Well, Halloween was on a Saturday so we didn’t return to school until Monday. The first thing to happen was the principal, Mr. R.C. McCulley, called all of the football players who were involved in the bridge burning to come to his office. I thought I was safe since I didn’t play football, but somehow he found out that I had taken part in it. I have never been so scared in my life. I would have rather faced the devil than Mr. McCulley. Of course, he only gave everybody a good talk, but that was enough for me.

Until this day, every time I go over that bridge, my mind goes back to the good ole days and the burning of the Twin Street Bridge.