The bridge in the Sassi suburb, called Principi di Piemonte, year 1928

It is the year 1928, three years before my grandfather's death.. 

This picture was taken from the footpath lined with trees which went along the river bank  and  the Michelotti canal; my grandfather usually went this way together with my grandmother up to the tram stop, then he crossed the bridge on foot by himself  to reach a joinery workshop  on the other bank of the Po.

In 1928 the bridge had been just completed. The colour of the pillars, the arches, the stone parapets was plaster white, not like today, black and dirty due to the city pollution.

The Michelotti canal was covered near the bridge, the tunnel was  used by  pedestrians like today after 77 years..

 .How many times my grandfather had walked along this footpath when the bridge was being built.

He could see the wooden scaffolds coming out from the muddy waters,  he could see the daily silent work of the carpenters and bricklayers.

From time to time he had a strange feeling of imminent inevitable misfortune, a cold shiver, when he thought of the finished glimmering bridge.

He laughed because of that.

The bridge could not hurt him, it was a bridge only and nothing more.

But it was not so.

Death, invisible, was already waiting for him.

.