As a history buff, this bridge is really a special landmark. I watched the Ric Burns NY PBS series before I came to NY. They spent a lot of time on the Brooklyn Bridge and I can see why It's completion back then was like us putting a man on the moon in 1969.
I walked over to Brooklyn, had lunch and walked back. Great setting for seeing the construction of the bridge up close, and also for taking in great views of the city. This is the famous bridge you see in most of the NYC photographs.
It still is using the original steel cables, as the engineer in charge speced it out to be super sturdy. An amazing family story of the Roeblings to include tragedy, setbacks. Caisson's Disease (the bends), incapacitation, and the take over and completion by a very intelligent woman - his wife Emily.
The Brooklyn Bridge stands as a tribute to the spirit of the latter half of the 19th century Americans.
Walking the bridge, listening to the history, one can certainly better understand the words of one of the native New York sons:
Crowds of men and women attired in the usual costumes! how curious your are to me!
On the ferry-boats, the hundreds and hundreds that cross, returning home, are more curious to me than you suppose;
And you that shall cross from shore to shore years hence, are more to me, and more in my meditations, than you might suppose.
Just as you feel when you look on the river and sky, so I felt;
Just as any of you is one of a living crowd, I was one of the crowd;
Just as you are refresh'd by the gladness of the river and the bright flow, I was refresh'd.
Just as you stand and lean on the rail, yet hurry with the swift current, I
stood, yet was hurried;
Just as you look on the numberless masts of ships, and the thick-stem'd pipes of steamboats, I look'd.
I too saw the reflection of the summer sky in the water,
Had my eyes dazzled by the shimmering track of beams,
Look'd at the fine centrifugal spokes of light around the shape of my head in the sun-lit water,
Look'd on the haze on the hills southward and southwestward,
Look'd on the vapor as it flew in fleeces tinged with violet,
Look'd toward the lower bay to notice the arriving ships,
Saw their approach, saw aboard those that were near me,
Saw the white sails of schooners and sloops-saw the ships at anchor,
On the neighboring shore, the fires from the foundry chimneys burning high and glaringly into the night,
Casting their flicker of black, contrasted with wild red and yellow light, over the tops of houses, and down into the clefts of streets.
There, and all else, were to me the same as they are to you.
..................................................................Walt Whitman read more