For months and months, every day, we'd spot a reminder that this year is the 75th anniversary of the Golden

Gate Bridge. A sign here, a billboard there, and many newspaper articles reminded us that the day of celebration was coming soon. Finally, the Google Search page let us know that the day had finally come.
It took a little while to explain it to him, but Rai finally understood that a Bridge can celebrate a birthday just like a person does. On the other hand, he couldn't quite understand just how old 75 is. He would hold up

three fingers, asking, "this old?" No. Four fingers. "This old?" No. Five fingers, his limit. Nope, much older than that. On May 27, 1937, after four years of construction, the Golden Gate Bridge was opened. Seventy five years later, it remains as impressive and iconic as it was on opening day. Some call it "The Parthenon of America".
All day long, we enjoyed the diamond anniversary party. From the "International Orange" art exhibit at Fort Point to the music stage at Chrissy Field, it was a

wonderful event. In the evening, I took a half hour break from painting my new classroom to climb up to the roof of the school for a view of the fireworks show. Happy Birthday, Golden Gate!
Let's finish with the poem written by Chief Engineer for the Golden Gate Bridge, Joseph P. Strauss.
The Mighty Task is Done
At last the mighty task is done;
Resplendent in the western sun
The Bridge looms mountain high;
Its titan piers grip ocean floor,
Its great steel arms link shore with shore,
Its towers pierce the sky.
On its broad decks in rightful pride,
The world in swift parade shall ride,
Throughout all time to be;

Beneath, fleet ships from every port,
Vast landlocked bay, historic fort,
And dwarfing all--the sea.
To north, the Redwood Empire's gates;
'To south, a happy playground waits,
in Rapturous appeal;
Here nature, free since time began,
Yields to the restless moods of man,

Accepts his bonds of steel.
Launched midst a thousand hopes and fears,
Damned by a thousand hostile sneers,
Yet ne'er its course was stayed,
But ask of those who met the foe
Who stood alone when faith was low,
Ask them the price they paid.

Ask of the steel, each strut and wire,
Ask of the searching, purging fire,
That marked their natal hour;
Ask of the mind, the hand, the heart,
Ask of each single, stalwart part,
What gave it force and power.
An Honored cause and nobly fought
And that which they so bravely wrought,

Now glorifies their deed,
No selfish urge shall stain its life,
Nor envy, greed, intrigue, nor strife,
Nor false, ignoble creed.
High overhead its lights shall gleam,
Far, far below life's restless stream,
Unceasingly shall flow;
For this was spun its lithe fine form,
To fear not war, nor time, nor storm,
For Fate had meant it so.

