sffliervoices.com

By Ron Henggeler

[As always, click on a thumbnail for a large image.]

Consider this:

If one goes to any state or national park in the USA (take Muir Woods as an example), one encounters friendly and informed park service personnel who are on site to give directions, give tours, answer questions, and even be handed a camera to snap photos of the visitors who want pictures to take home for remembrance.

For the 48 to 50 million dollars that it would cost to create a physical barrier on the Golden Gate Bridge, why not better spend money creating a new job description? During hours when the bridge is open to pedestrians, have two or three people, dressed in easily recognized uniforms, walking the walkway, being friendly and informed ambassadors for the Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco. As part of their job, they would also be well-trained in spotting a potential suicide and well-versed in dealing with the possible crisis. I believe that if such personnel were on the bridge (and imagine… had been on the bridge for the past 10 or 20 years), and everyone knew that such personnel were present, potential suicides would have second thoughts about using the bridge as an easy access for their tragic way of ending their own life.

Suicide is a terrible event that cannot be taken back once it has occurred. The family and friends who lose a loved one to suicide never get over their horrible loss.

But building a suicide barrier is another type of terrible event that will not be able to be turned back once it’s up. The enormous “only in San Francisco” experience — that is, the experience of the amazing unfettered freedom of “walking the Golden Gate” —  is too much to lose. The sacrifice is too great. It too would be the unbearable loss of a loved one.

Find another way to solve this dilemma. Consider some friendly faces in uniforms who would be there to help everyone.

For more photos of the Golden Gate Bridge by Ron Henggeler, go to http://www.ronhenggeler.com.

By Ron Henggeler

Locally, it’s known simply as “the tower.” San Francisco tour buses stop in the 900 block of Fulton so that tourists can get a good look. On the site for many years, it changes with every season. Here’s a look at the latest incarnation. [As always, click on a thumbnail for a large image.]

My tower in the front yard is a prayer tower of peace built to Saint Francis of Assisi, the namesake of San Francisco and the patron saint of animals.

In many cultures both present and ancient, it is believed that prayers are sent out with bells ringing or prayer flags flapping in the wind. The tower is covered with bells and sound-makers and the San Francisco flag flies at the very top. (There’s also a five foot diameter peace symbol woven into the fabric of the tower’s north face.) These wind-powered sounds are like different voices. . . delicate gentle voices that ring softly with the slightest breeze. . . a full chorus of voices that rise up with strong winds. . . and the loud deep-booming bass tones that occur only when a winter storm is blowing in from south. Humming birds dance in and out and around the tower taking nectar from the jasmine and morning glory blossoms that grace the tower’s face.

The tower is built entirely of found objects and discarded materials. I’ve given new life to things that were deemed useless. Many of them are San Francisco–historically significant. Like the phoenix on our city’s flag, rising up reborn from its own ashes, my tower has risen up and been born again from the “ashes” of discarded things that were thrown away as garbage. (The rebar frame of the tower is from the Fell Street freeway exit that was torn down after the Loma Prieta earthquake.)

The Magic Flute by Mozart, one of my favorite operas, was the initial inspiration for the tower’s construction. It came to me one day when I was wondering what to do with four old Volkswagen hubcaps. Turning the hubcap upside down, the VW initials in the center became AM. . . Amadeus Mozart. In a flash, in my mind, I saw Mozart, the opera, and the mental blueprint of a tower.  From that moment on, his spirit in that opera has followed me and guided me in its creation.

For more photos by Ron Henggeler, go to http://www.ronhenggeler.com.