Fantastical as it sounds, my intervention wasn't my first encounter with someone potentially suicidal that particular trek across Portland's Burnside Bridge, as my family and I headed for Sunday's Pride Parade. I'd already doubled back to speak with someone acting squirrelly right where the bridge crosses over I-5's many lanes of traffic. She -- she seemed the sartorial choice -- was stopping and starting and walking to and fro, rather than crossing the bridge, all with an odd, purposeful aimles...
Fantastical as it sounds, my intervention wasn't my first encounter with someone potentially suicidal that particular trek across Portland's Burnside Bridge, as my family and I headed for Sunday's Pride Parade. I'd already doubled back to speak with someone acting squirrelly right where the bridge crosses over I-5's many lanes of traffic. She -- she seemed the sartorial choice -- was stopping and starting and walking to and fro, rather than crossing the bridge, all with an odd, purposeful aimles...
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