Barriers going up on bridge to prevent suicide jumps

The French King Bridge spans a pastoral stretch of the Connecticut River valley between the tiny towns of Gill and Erving along Route 2 in western Massachusetts. Since its construction 90 years ago, the bridge has drawn tourists who stop to admire majestic views from its pedestrian walkway. Unfortunately, its dramatic setting and dizzying heights have also attracted desperate people who want to end their lives. Dozens have died jumping off of it.    

“For a long time, it was mostly locals who knew about it,” said Gill Police Chief Chris Redmond, “Now we are getting people from around the region, including metro Boston and New Hampshire.  People have even taken rideshares to get there.” 

First responders from Gill, Erving, and the State Police respond on a regular basis to calls about the bridge, frequently negotiating with would-be jumpers.

Those calls are starting to dwindle now that nine-foot steel barriers are being installed along the bridge by the Massachusetts Department of Transportation, which owns and manages the bridge. Barrier construction is complete on the north side of the bridge. While the installation is in progress on the southern side of the bridge, seven-foot temporary barriers prevent pedestrians from entering the construction area spanning the length of the bridge.

Redmond is relieved to see the barriers installed, but he notices a double standard in the state’s slow response to safety issues related to suicide. “If there was a design flaw where the highway was improperly pitched causing 25-30 fatalities, that would be rectified fairly quickly. But if someone is making a decision to jump, that hazard doesn’t facilitate as quick of a response.  But what about our divers working in fast-moving water at night trying to recover a jumper? What about the grieving families left behind? And what about my officers negotiating with someone 140 feet in the air? Nobody considers them.”

Jen Matoney, an advocate and trainer with the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention and co-chair of the Pioneer Valley Suicide Prevention Coalition, said Redmond is right.  “A lot of the resistance to safety barriers has to do with a lack of understanding around suicide as well as prejudice and discrimination against those who have experiences with and losses due to suicide,” she said.

Matoney points to long-term efforts in California to install protective steel netting under San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge. Despite over 1,500 suicides from the bridge, “they didn’t get serious about building that barrier until an infant accidentally fell over the bridge,” she said.

Efforts to convince Massachusetts officials to install barriers on French King Bridge also went nowhere for decades. Rep. Susannah Whipps, an Independent from Athol, said that before she was elected, former senator Stanley Rosenberg, former representative Stephen Kulik, and Sen. Paul Mark all pushed for safety barriers to no avail. 

“The project would get on the (funded project list) at MassDOT, and then something else would rise to the top and it would get deprioritized,” Whipps said.

That changed when Stacey Hamel, a grieving mother whose son jumped from the French King Bridge, got involved.  

Five years ago, Hamel’s son Bryan was on leave from the Navy to visit his parents in Oxford. He brought his young son with him. In the middle of the night, Hamel received a call from police about Bryan’s probable suicide. “I had no idea where Gill or Erving were even located or what they were talking about,” Hamel said.

Bryan’s car was found in the middle of the bridge with the front door open. His handprints were still visible in the dew covering the steel railings when police arrived. Police monitor activity on the bridge by video and arrived only a few minutes after he stopped his car.

Bryan Hamel likely located the bridge through an internet search.  Divers searched the turbulent water below the bridge, but they never found him.

Reeling from the trauma of Bryan’s death, Hamel’s energy was consumed initially in helping her family heal and adjust to life without him. Two more years went by and just as many people lost their lives over the French King Bridge. 

“By 2020,” Hamel said, “we were breathing again.” After yet another person died by jumping over the bridge that year, she decided enough was enough. “I thought, that’s it. I don’t want another parent, another family, to go through what I’ve been through,” she said.

She started writing letters, hundreds of them, addressed to a wide range of officials from the governor to legislators to MassDOT administrators. She established a vibrant social media presence for her advocacy and organized several “stand-outs” at the bridge itself. At the largest of these events, close to 100 volunteers showed up. Standing on either end of the bridge, they held signs calling for the installation of safety barriers.  

Whipps and Sen. Jo Comerford, a Democrat from Northampton, were moved by her passion and cause. They scheduled meetings with officials and constituents about safety issues on the bridge and were ultimately able to secure an earmark to guarantee funding for the barrier project. 

“When Stacey got involved, all the planets aligned in pushing this project, which had been teetering on the brink, over the top,” said Whipps. “Here was this mom turned activist, and she was not going to let this thing go.” 

But Hamel does not feel satisfied that the mission is complete. Other older, high-risk bridges around the state need to be assessed and retrofitted with modern safety barriers, she said. “It shouldn’t be up to some random person, a grieving mother from out of the area, to move things forward. The state was not listening to local people. It took way too long for them to install those barriers. Way too many people died as a result.”

Hamel, who works as a real estate agent, said anyone updating a building has to bring it up to code whenever major work is done.  She wonders why a similar process isn’t in place with bridge construction – requiring barriers to be installed whenever an older bridge is repaired.

Redmond said the suicide problem isn’t going away in his area with the new barriers at the French King Bridge. Other nearby towns have limited public safety budgets and older bridges towering over the Connecticut and its feeder rivers.  It is just a matter of time before those bridges attain the notoriety of the French King Bridge, he said.

Kristen Pennucci, a spokesperson for MassDOT, said public safety is a top priority on all agency projects and when issues are identified with existing infrastructure a response plan is developed. “Adding additional fencing or other structures to a bridge requires a detailed design to ensure the added weight, wind resistance, and other critical factors are taken into account,” she said.

The barrier installation project on the French King Bridge has been in process since 2020 and will cost over $6 million. 

Whipps, whose rural district has the highest rate of adult male suicides in the state, said installing more bridge barriers is not the answer. She said MassDOT  “has a gallon-bucket-full of projects and a thimble full of funding.  Rather than investing in barriers on every bridge, I’d like to focus upstream, expanding mental health resources and reducing stigma. What puts someone on a bridge? Why aren’t they getting the help they need?” 

While safety barriers are resource heavy, Matoney said research shows they significantly reduce suicides at bridges and in the surrounding area. She said it’s a myth that people who are suicidal will just find another means of taking their life if they are deterred. The suicidal state of mind is intense but short-lived. 

She agrees that efforts to reduce stigma and increase access to mental health services are critical as well. Comerford’s bill to include the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline number on student ID cards is one such measure. 

Other very effective suicide prevention measures require no funding at all. “We can all play a role in reducing isolation by just remembering to reach out, ” Matoney said.  “Ask people how they are doing. Be nice. Be kind.” 

If you are feeling alone or having thoughts about suicide or know someone who is,  you can talk to someone by calling or texting 988, the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. Chat is also available through 988 lifeline.org.