Golden Anniversary

In the radiance of the setting sun or the swirling fog around San Francisco Bay, the Golden Gate Bridge takes on an unearthly quality belying its 389,000 cu. yds. of concrete, 83,000 tons of structural steel and 80,000 miles of wire, much of it suspension cables a yard thick. From the Marin County headlands to the deck of a sailboat on the bay, the grand old span and its 746-ft. towers appear to be something they are not: floating, delicate, an awesome and ghostly setting appropriate for a James Bond thriller.

Next week the Bay Area celebrates the Golden Gate's 50th anniversary as one of the engineering marvels of the world. Just after dawn Sunday, thousands of pedestrians will stroll across its 4,200-ft. span, repeating a similar parade that took place at the bridge's inauguration in 1937, when 200,000 celebrators paid a nickel apiece for the privilege of walking across the bridge on its first day. Those opening ceremonies, which included a flyover by 450 planes from three aircraft carriers, ended up $70,000 in the red. In these more extravagant times, expenditures for the golden anniversary festivities exceed that, but confused organizers say they do not know by how much. Although scaled down from original plans to rival last year's Statue of Liberty centennial in New York harbor, the bridge's birthday will include a 50-gun salute, a flyover and fireworks, as well as the usual well-meaning but oddball gesture: the Sausalito Chamber of Commerce has built a bridge replica from empty cans of Spam, which is also marking its 50th anniversary.

But nothing could embarrass this most majestic of bridges, built in treacherous waters at a cost of only eleven lives. More would have been killed had not Joseph B. Strauss, the engineer who conceived and built the bridge, insisted that nets be strung under the workmen; the nets saved 19. Strauss said it best at the dedication, in an age when wonders were built to stay wondrous: "This bridge needs neither praise, eulogy nor encomium. It speaks for itself."