In 1896, Pittsburgh finally got its first free bridge

On what otherwise would have been any ordinary, routine day in Pittsburgh, the people of the South Side were preparing for a grand, long-overdue celebration. It was a Wednesday in late March 1896, but it looked and felt more like the Fourth of July.

By 10 a.m., residents and visitors were already lining the streets. Business was practically suspended, and the children were permitted a half day from school. It was the first pleasant day of the year — clear skies, bright and balmy — which many interpreted as a special mark of approval for the day’s occasion.

Flags and bunting

Along Carson and Sarah, between 12th and 28th streets, nearly every business house and private residence was elaborately decorated in a mass of flags, banners, and tricolored bunting.

Large silk flags and bunting hung over the Market House main entrance. The Hotel Arthur, at the corner of 27th and Carson, and Larimer’s cigar store across the street, were decorated with rosettes of red, white, and blue, and with still more flags and bunting.

Leading the parade were 12 mounted city police officers, the Select Knights Band, and two companies of the Press cadets. The mayors of Pittsburgh and Allegheny (then a separate city), members of councils and eminent civil engineers followed in carriages, and behind them marched the Sheridan Saber’s Military Band and 85 navy cadets.

Jones & Laughlin’s float displayed a modern blacksmith shop operated by a steam engine. At one end was a forge and anvil at which workers made and handed out souvenir shoes to the crowd. The breweries were well represented, carting their kegs of beer. Volunteer fire companies from Wilkinsburg, Braddock, Homestead, and Millvale anchored the march.

The parade started promptly at 1:30 p.m. and the route covered most of the main business district: from 12th and Carson to 20th Street, then to Sarah, to 28th Street, back to Carson, and finally to 22nd Street.

At South 22nd Street the procession was to cross over the new structure, the official opening of which was the main attraction and reason for the day’s celebrations.

The South 22nd Street Bridge, or the Soho Bridge, or just simply “the free bridge,” was not celebrated for being an overly imposing structure or a monumental feat of engineering skill.

What it meant to the people

It was impressive to be sure, but it was what the new bridge symbolized and meant practically to the people of the South Side that mattered most.

Up until March 25, 1896, to walk or drive from the South Side to the city of Pittsburgh, a person had to cross one of the three toll bridges spanning the Monongahela River. That is, bridges built, owned, and operated by private companies that charged tolls to each man crossing over.

The Smithfield Street Bridge, for example, charged one cent for walkers and cyclists, five cents for a single horse and wagon, and anywhere from ten to fifteen cents for a double horse team and wagon.

Not only did the residents of the South Side pay to cross a bridge, but they paid in other, more subtle ways as well. Landlords factored the cost into rents; so did most other businesses.

Hauling stone across the river cost a South Side business 10 cents more per perch, and sand an extra $1.50 per day. Any business that relied on transporting goods to and from the city factored the toll costs into the sale prices charged to consumers.

Free communication

Toll bridges had been a thorn in the side of the South Side for as long as anyone could remember. But now, after innumerable failed attempts and promises and schemes, they finally had their free bridge and “free communication” to the rest of the city. It was a new beginning for the city of Pittsburgh.