It’s only a 374-foot section of road, but it requires constant surveillance to protect against tragedy. And for a combined 90 years, twin brothers Duane and Dwight Lewis did, keeping a careful watch over Townsend Gut from Southport’s swing bridge. 

On May 10, their talk “Tenders of Southport Bridge” that opened Boothbay Historical Society’s speaker series was so popular, the Community Center invited the two to repeat it at its facility July 18. The brothers recently sat down with theBoothbay Register to share their memories of operating number 2789, one of the largest swing bridges in Maine.

The bridge-tending is a family tradition. Lewis family members have watched over the bridge at the gut for a total of 149 years. The twins tended it and grew up in the family home overlooking it.

Their father Norman started tending the bridge after returning from the Navy in 1945. He remained there 43 years, one of the first operators of the bridge built in 1939-40 to replace what Duane called “the bridge at Oak Point.”

An earlier bridge used in the 1920s was a toll bridge and charged $2.50 for a horse and carriage to cross and 25 cents for a pedestrian or bicycle to cross. “On Sundays it was free,” Duane said.

Although no toll is charged for crossing the bridge now, a woman driving across the bridge once threw 25 cents into the helmet in Dwight’s outstretched hand, mistakenly thinking he was collecting a toll.

Boothbay Harbor and Southport owned the 1939 bridge and sold it to the state for $1 in the early 1950s, Duane recalled. When built, it had what Dwight called “old gates” the tender had to open and close by hand.

“When the bridge broke down we had to hand crank the bridge open, but it couldn’t be done alone – we had to get people to help us,” Dwight said. And in any blow stronger than 40 mph, the bridge cannot be opened.

In one notable storm, Duane had to ask the Coast Guard to secure the ends of the bridge with pipes, since the bridge would blow open if it wasn’t secured.

The brothers worked in eight-hour shifts at the Southport bridge and ones in Trevett and South Bristol. The two would often end a shift at one bridge only to begin the next shift at another.

Duane and Dwight were joined by fellow bridge tenders Jeff Keyes and Hal Mansfield.

Back in the day, the brothers did all the maintenance, if they could, according to Dwight. In the 1980s, the state spent $1 million to update the bridge equipment, adding new motors and removing the crank.

Shifts were spent in the 12-foot by 10-foot bridge house, except to climb to the tower to open and close the bridge. The coffee pot was going 24 hours a day and cards, cribbage, watching sports, and taking visits from friends helped pass the time.

Despite their diligence, accidents by boaters and drivers occasionally occurred. Dwight recalled the afternoon of June 21, 1989 when, to his horror, a car went into the 60-feet deep water.

The bridge was open to let a boat pass, when a local resident drove through the signal railing and into the water on the Boothbay Harbor side. Dwight alerted the harbor master, “Car overboard!” and local crews responded. The driver got free of the vehicle and swam to pilings under the bridge.

Duane recalled accidents underneath the bridge when boat operators were going too fast. In one incident, despite his warnings to slow down, a large cruiser hit the bridge so hard, all of the boat’s radar equipment broke off.

And then there was the driver who, unable to resist the view, drove her car up onto the bridge’s sidewalk to the door of the small bridge house, right against the railing. “She broke a tie rod,” Duane recalled.

Duane retired in 2012; Dwight, in 2013. Each spent 45 years as a bridge tender. They saw themselves as a welcoming committee for Southport’s summer visitors.

They don’t miss the job, but they miss the people, the brothers said. And the lessons learned from years of bridge tending? “Have patience and respect everyone.”