My Blog
Roebling Bridge Incident
In September 2025 I had the privilege of taking the winners of the 2025 Roebling Bridge Photo Contest to the top of the John A. Roebling Suspension Bridge.
Most people know about the incredible views from the top.
Very few know what lies beneath their feet.
At the top of the south tower is a heavy steel hatch. Beneath that hatch is a vertical stone shaft that disappears into the tower. At the bottom of that shaft is a hidden chamber built inside the massive sandstone masonry directly above the roadway arch. It’s a part of the bridge that almost no one ever sees.
For years I’d wondered what was down there.
I’d searched for photographs.
I looked for blueprints.
I dug through engineering records.
I came up with almost nothing.
Before attempting this, I asked the treasurer of the Roebling Bridge Society if he was comfortable with me documenting the space. My goal wasn’t to explore. It was simply to preserve a part of the bridge’s history that few people have ever seen.
I mounted my brand new Insta360 X5 to two five-foot selfie sticks screwed together, giving me nearly ten feet of reach. I clamped a GVM LED light to the pole so I could actually see what the camera was filming.
Everything was going exactly as I’d hoped.
Then, in a split second, everything changed.
Without warning, the two selfie sticks separated.
I later discovered the plastic threaded insert in one of the poles had only been hot glued into the aluminum tube. The extra weight of the camera and light was enough to pull it right out.
My brand new Insta360 X5 disappeared into the darkness.
Alex, another member of the Roebling Bridge Society, looked up at me and quietly said,
“That’s gone for good.”
The camera cost around $700.
Honestly…
I didn’t care about the camera.
The images and video I’d just captured were priceless.
I grabbed my phone hoping I could connect to the camera.
Nothing.
The battery had popped loose just enough that it wouldn’t respond.
The only reason I knew where the camera had landed was because the LED light was still shining from somewhere deep inside the chamber.
My brain immediately went into problem-solving mode.
I remembered the magnet fishing kit I’d bought my son, Collin, a couple birthdays earlier.
I called my wife and asked if she could bring Collin and the magnet kit to the bridge as quickly as possible.
She dropped him off at the base of the bridge, and he ran it over to us.
I lowered the large magnet into the shaft.
Then it hit me.
An Insta360 camera isn’t magnetic.
Neither is an aluminum selfie stick.
What was I thinking?
Still, I figured maybe there was enough steel somewhere in the setup for the magnet to catch.
After several tries I finally felt tension.
YES!!
Then…
NO!!
The magnet had attached itself to the removable battery on the back of the GVM light.
It pulled the battery completely off the light, leaving the camera, the light, and the selfie stick exactly where they were.
Now the only light inside the chamber was gone.
Everything disappeared into complete darkness.
I just stood there.
Defeated.
I packed everything up and went home.
That evening I emailed the treasurer of the Roebling Bridge Society and explained exactly what had happened.
His reply gave me hope.
“Let’s go back tomorrow morning and see if we can’t come up with a plan.”
I barely slept that night.
My mind replayed every possible recovery idea over and over.
Then sometime during the night I had an idea.
From what I’d seen before the light went out, I remembered the LED light sticking upward.
What if I didn’t try to lift it?
What if I lassoed it?
I got out the same rope from the magnet fishing kit and spent the night in my living room experimenting until I built a loop that would tighten when I pulled it.
The next morning we returned.
Even in broad daylight you can’t really see the bottom of that shaft without flashlights.
I lowered the loop.
Carefully worked it into position.
Pulled gently.
It grabbed.
On the very first try.
I couldn’t believe it.
Back at the top we immediately started looking through the footage.
It was worth every second.
The chamber was unlike anything I’d imagined.
Heavy sandstone walls.
Large iron rings built directly into the masonry.
A passage leading to the small door inside the roadway arch.
And leaning against the wall…
An old wooden ladder.
That ladder fascinated me.
Most of the wooden rungs have completely rotted away, leaving only the weathered side rails.
It doesn’t look like it was simply thrown there.
It looks as though it may have fallen where it stood and remained undisturbed long enough for time to slowly erase it.
How many years has it been lying there?
Fifty?
A hundred?
Since the bridge was built?
I honestly don’t know.
The iron rings built into the walls raise even more questions.
Were they used during construction?
Were they used to secure ropes or lifting equipment?
Could they even have been used to secure that ladder?
Right now those are just theories.
I’m not claiming to have the answers.
I’m simply documenting what I found and hoping someone else may be able to help fill in the blanks.
I’ve spent months searching for photographs and engineering drawings of this chamber and have found remarkably little. Even members of the Roebling Bridge Society were fascinated by what these images revealed.
One of the things I love most about photography is that sometimes it doesn’t just capture history.
Sometimes it uncovers it.