When the tremor shudders loose steel, from the view out of the window to the helicopter, the collapsed section of bridge looks like a lightweight model; small and insignificant. Ribbons of roadway lie rumpled, surely made of cloth. They look so limp, but weighing tons of concrete. Steel rods and iron railings along some sections. The baseball teams and the fans wait, some chattering about the small cracks at the top of the stadium behind their bleacher seats. It’s a fifty feet long upper portion of the Oakland to San Francisco bridge, that split at one end and lies tilted, resting on the lower strand, to form a giant ramp, just over one of the support towers. At least one car slid down the crease and looks as if it’s trapped. People are milling and streaming on both levels, out of their vehicles, ants scurrying. One man has in his hand a piece of jagged concrete, split from the upper deck of Candlestick Park. The third game of the World Series has officially been called off.
