By Trevor Greenway
Editor-in-Chief
It may have taken just seven minutes for the Wakefield covered bridge to burn down, but it would take another 13 years until the big red iconic bridge was resurrected over top of the Gatineau River.
Not because there wasn’t interest in rebuilding it, but raising hundreds of thousands of dollars in a small town in the 1980s was no small feat. But no challenge was too great for the late Norma Walmsley.
“When you think of it, it was an impossible job,” says Joan Garnett, sitting in her Wakefield apartment in early July. It’s been 13 long years since her partner Walmsley died, but Garnett will never forget the tenacity and dedication she had to rebuild the bridge. Walmsley had a lot of friends, but many would avoid her on the street when they saw her coming their way – certain she was going to hit them up for a donation or two.
“Of course, Norma walked around with her receipt book and people would cross the street or look down or whatever,” said Garnett laughing. “Then she would go to meetings and she would get all those people to give an aid. It was such a relief when that was over.”
The commitment to rebuild the bridge began the night it burned—on July 10, 1984, when Walmsley and Garnett watched their beloved bridge collapse into the Gatineau River, one flaming section at a time.
Former Low Down reporter Ernie Mahoney wrote in his 1997 Up the Gatineau! article that “Norma Walmsley viewed the conflagration in a state of shock from her home high on the hillside overlooking the bridge. It was then that she vowed that the bridge must be rebuilt, even as the flames were dying.”
The Wakefield Covered Bridge Committee held its first meeting on Nov. 13, 1987. A first plan was drawn up – but it depended on a temporary replacement “bailey bridge” the province put in place but would later remove when the permanent twin-lane concrete bridge (near the current Wakefield police station) was built.
The chairman of the committee at the time, Col. Guy Tremblay, went back to the drawing board and rethought the project, legally incorporating the Wakefield Covered Bridge Project. The new design featured a bi-level walking/cycling structure made of steel and was clad in wood. It also included shopping kiosks, toilets and the possibility of a restaurant. The price tag on that was around $2 million.
Over the next two years, the designs of the bridge changed; interest in a two-tiered bridge had waned. The project was redesigned in 1990 to be an exact replica of the original 1915 Gendron Bridge, for walking and cycling, at an estimated cost of $600,000 and fundraising really took off. The theme of the campaign was “buy a beam, buy a bolt, buy a board,” allowing lower-income families to contribute in a way they could afford.
In spring, 1991, Walmsley, with the help of her fundraising assistants Anita Rutledge and Ann Chudleigh, began to seriously bring in the bucks with outdoor concerts, fundraising dinners and a giant village yard sale. The committe raised $30,000 through golf tournaments, a strawberry social and a stuffed gorilla that was stolen, replaced and then auctioned off for $1,000. Fundraising would continue, and by 1993, there was more than $70,000 in the bank. Fundraising efforts would ultimately bring in over $350,000 for the $600,000 bridge. The rest of the money came in the form of government grants.
When building began in 1994, the bridge committee didn’t have much trouble finding volunteers. Maybe at first, but when then-construction coordinator Neil Faulkner moved the building site from Morrison’s Quarry to Riverside Drive, locals could see the project taking form and wanted to be a part of it.
“We wanted to move it up to the village where the school is now, because it was visible,” said Faulkner from his home in Wakefield. He said locals would drive by and see these massive bridge sections taking form and the sight would force some of them to pull over immediately to grab a hammer or make plans to return to help. “It had to be visible, you know, working in a hidden place didn’t get anybody’s attention. So that was a key move that we accomplished.”
Through a federal grant, the committee hired civil engineer Rob MacLeod and builder Mario Breton who led the construction project, along with four students who became the main six-man crew who built the bridge. And they had a lot of work to do: cut 150,000 feet of lumber from boom logs, and build four massive bridge spans and 148 roof trusses. But the real challenge came later – how in the heck would they raise, transport and connect the giant spans to form the 90-metre bridge?
“The river is swift, there are rapids immediately downstream from the bridge, and the western approaches are steep and narrow with private properties bordering both sides of the road. Given our lean bank account, least risk and lowest cost were invariably the most important considerations,” Faulkner wrote in his 1997 Up the Gatineau! article. After much deliberation, the plan was made to launch the giant bridge spans onto several barges that were moored near the Wakefield General Store. It took 15 hours and the use of two hydraulic cranes to load the bridge spans onto transport trucks that haul the giant structures to the river. Tugboats would then pull the barges to the bridge site, where workers would connect them all together. It was a sight to be seen – two 45-metre bridge spans lifted over the fast-flowing Gatineau River, some 16 feet in the air, then meticulously aimed and set down on the bridge abutments. It took crews seven risky hours before the bridge sections were secured on the piers below, as volunteers and villagers anxiously watched from the shore.
“That was very touchy,” Faulkner recalled. “It was a huge relief when they touched down because, I mean, if you make a mistake, it could crash into something, it could be dumped and then what would we do?”
Once the sections were installed, workers continued to install rafters for the roof, installed the tin and had Wakefield Elementary students and cops out to paint sections of the red cladding. In the end, nearly 2,000 volunteers worked tirelessly over 13 years to see their red, iconic bridge turn from dream to reality. While it’s impressive, Faulkner is not surprised so many offered their support.
“There’s something unique about the covered bridge in Wakefield,” he said. “Bridges are just a way to bring people together, whether it’s to go to the other side, or to help, bridges do that. I’m ready to put that on my tombstone.”
The Wakefield covered bridge was officially opened on Oct. 4, 1997, and it quickly became much more than just a thoroughfare for pedestrians and cyclists. Numerous locals have been married on the bridge, the Wakefield Grannies have held concerts and many a photographer has used it as a backdrop for weddings, portraits and grad ceremonies. For years it was a rite of passage for young villagers to hurl themselves off into the dark waters below – though bridge jumping and more recently, even swimming has been banned by the municipality. Still, tourists and some locals still gather at the rocks near the beloved bridge to sunbathe, sneak in a quick swim if they can, or launch a flotilla from the rapids.
The bridge has become a hub of village life.