LOCALadk Magazine

LOCALadk 15 community of only sixty year-round residents. Marsha and I became co-chairs of the fundraising campaign while Sue, the Town supervisor, gave direction on legal matters. Even before we announced the plan, checks began arriving. The Clifton-Fine community rallied, joined by Ranger School alumni and summer residents. An unsolicited $10,000 grant from the Northern New York Community Foundation gave us the confidence we could actually do this. WHA and Hope, the Town clerk, asked the public to send letters explaining why the bridge mattered. More than a hundred arrived — handwritten notes, emails, and cards. People wrote about childhood memories, family traditions, first kisses, favorite photos, and the feeling of walking across the river on a starlit night. Those letters helped us secure major grants from the Parks Department and St. Lawrence County. They also reminded us why we were doing this: the bridge wasn't just a structure. It was part of people's lives. Over the next three years, WHA tried every fund- raising idea suggested, especially the fun ones. Community members volunteered to plan and run events. At one auction, the APA's Executive Director and a New York State Trooper let the highest bidder smash a cream pie in their face. Children sold lem- onade and cupcakes. A wooden duck carved from an original bridge beam sold for more than $6,000. Local musicians played at three "Bridge Days," and people danced in the street. Bossie Bingo made several ap- pearances. (If the cow poops in your square, you win — naturally, most winners donated their prize back.) We held raffles, pie & baked beans contests, silent auctions, and live auctions. People donated artwork, quilts, antiques, and services. One person offered a weekend at Martha's Vineyard. Another donated a hand painted cross-cut saw with the bridge's image. As demolition and construction approached, we learned that rebuilding a bridge in a state park comes with rules: archaeological reviews, engineering stud- ies, soil testing, architectural plans, legal fees, and more. Apparently, you can't just stretch a bridge across a river because you feel like it. Every step required paperwork, approval, and patience. But the community stayed determined. By the end of the third summer, the total cost was approaching half a million dollars, and our little com- munity had raised nearly $220,000 with the remainder covered by state and county grants. Just when we thought we were done, we learned we were still short of about $3,000. We were exhausted — bone tired of fundraising. But two different summer residents heard about the gap and quietly donated the rest. We did it! The new bridge was built with the same spirit as the old one — simple, sturdy, and welcoming — but raised 2.5 feet higher so the next ice jam wouldn't find it so easily. When it finally opened, people crossed it slow- ly, listening for the familiar creak, feeling the gentle sway. Some cried. Others laughed. Everyone took pho- tos. It felt like the town had been made whole again. Today, the Wanakena Footbridge stands as proof that a small, caring community can do astonishing things when they refuse to give up. It is a reminder that history is not just something we inherit — it's something we choose to carry forward. Our bridge connects more than two sides of a river. It connects who we were, who we are, and who we hope to be. And every time I step onto it, feeling that familiar sway beneath my feet, I'm reminded of the winter we almost lost it — and the people who refused to let that happen. t After extensive fundraising, the bridge was rebuilt 2.5 feet higher and dedicated on July 4, 2017. Photo credit: Steve Moyer

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