Not in Kansas anymore
Visit to Golden Gate Bridge like ‘a dream’ for couple who worked years to build a replica of it on their farm
Four decades after “a scared 19-year-old kid” rolled over the Golden Gate Bridge on his way to combat in Vietnam, and after promising his wife every anniversary that they’d visit San Francisco, Larry and Barbara Richardson stood on the bow of a boat Tuesday and looked west to the sun.
As the towers of the mighty Golden Gate Bridge loomed into view, Barbara found her eyes burning and cheeks reddening. And just that quickly she was weeping.
“It’s not our little bridge,” Barbara sniffled. “I just feel like I am in a dream. Thank you so much.”
The Richardsons and the notion of the 150-foot replica of the Golden Gate Bridge they built on their Mulvane, Kan., farm have finally come together. Larry had never forgotten the glimpse of one of the
towers late one night in 1968 on his way to Vietnam. At the time he wondered if he’d make it back to see it again.
He did, thanks to the generosity of Bay Area residents who learned of their story in The Chronicle and made donations to bring them to San Francisco. Some wrote to say they were from the Midwest and knew down-to-earth people like Larry, who wore his Wayman Oil cap throughout the visit because they give him a new one every time they fill his 500-gallon propane tank.
Or they said Larry and Barbara’s sense of wonder and appreciation reminded them of when they arrived in San Francisco. They heard the two say they found it exciting, sophisticated and a little intimidating, and nodded knowingly.
A milestone moment
But the real backstory is that the Richardsons aren’t here because they built a model bridge. They built a life. Their bridge is the representation of it.
“Next week,” Larry said, “we’re going to say to ourselves, ‘Was that really real?’ ”
After all, the humble couple was asked Tuesday for their autographs, stalked by local media, and posed for photos for everyone from professional shooters to the deck crew of the tour boat.
“I feel like I’m in the movie ‘Titanic,’ ” said Larry, standing at the bow. “I don’t think Leonardo (DiCaprio) had anything on this.”
Larry said he was awake all night trying to think of the right words to thank everyone. In 63 years, he says, the milestone moments of his life were “going into the service, getting married, having a son, and then this.”
It just took 44 years for them to all come together.
Stationed in the Mekong Delta, Larry was among the “River Rats,” who deployed off flat-bottomed boats in the jungle.
“It was the first time I was really away from home,” he said. “It was a big change for a kid from Kansas.”
During his year there, some things happened that took some time to put to rest, he says.
“A mortar charge blew near me and I was burned pretty good,” he said. “I was lucky, but it did get me out of combat for about 45 days.”
But Larry says he knew he had to get back home. He already had a promise to get married. Barbara says Larry asked her out on the first date of her life but she turned him down. She was just a sophomore, and her father insisted she had to be 16 before she could date. When it happened, Larry, the senior, was swept off his feet.
“I asked her to marry me three days later,” he said. “She thought I was kidding.”
Long-promised trip
Barbara thought they should hold off on marrying until he finished his time in the service, so she stayed home while the Army flew him to San Francisco, then Hawaii, then Vietnam. They were married as soon as he returned, and he promised they’d take a trip to San Francisco.
“The 10th anniversary came and went, and then the 25th,” he said. “And two weeks ago was our 43rd.”
So it was more than an offbeat whim to model their farm bridge after the Golden Gate. It was an old memory, intertwined with life, near-death, marriage and the regrets we all feel when we wish we’d followed our dreams.
When Larry started building his replica in 1994, he and his father, who lived nearby, were estranged.
But when he heard about the project, his dad decided that Larry needed help. And to be honest, given the level of planning — or lack thereof — you can understand his point. Larry’s only model was a picture postcard of the bridge.
“We called it comparative engineering,” he says. “We said, “Well, it is supposed to look like this.’ ”
Larry and his dad went through lots of trial and error, from finding towers to hold up the roadbed to searching in vain for the right “International Orange” color of paint. They went to every paint and hardware store in the Wichita area without success. They finally had to settle for gold paint, which was only available in one-pint cans.
The small cans meant that they could only use narrow, 1-inch paint brushes, which explains why one of the first things Larry said when he saw the real bridge was: “I wouldn’t want to be painting that with a 1-inch brush.”
A bridge to his father
In all, it took 11 years to finish the bridge, which translated to a lot of together time for Larry and his father.
“While we worked on it, we kind of bonded up,” Larry said. “So besides building a mini Golden Gate Bridge, I feel like it kind of built a bridge between us.”
Not long after the bridge was completed, his father died.
Do you think Larry looks at his bridge and doesn’t think of that? Or of Vietnam? Or of that young couple, fresh out of high school starting a family?
Can you imagine, after all this time, what it meant to see the actual Golden Gate Bridge, stretching across the bay? It’s been all these years, tied up with all these moments, for this nice couple from a small town in Kansas.
So do you still wonder why there were tears?