Imagine a bridge that does not stand on piles driven into the bottom, but simply... floats. Like a giant boat carrying thousands of cars every day. Bridges like these exist in the American city of Seattle—and this is not science fiction, but a reality that has existed for more than eighty years. Yet few people know that these remarkable structures were built by people who came from the distant Philippine Islands and who themselves were once almost invisible to those around them.
Why Bridges Float at All
Lake Washington, next to which Seattle stands, is very deep—more than 200 meters (650 feet) in some places. Building ordinary supports anchored to the bottom would be virtually impossible there: too expensive and too complicated. So engineers came up with a different solution: enormous concrete pontoons, resembling giant hollow boxes, that do not sink but remain on the water like a duck on a pond. The pontoons were fastened together with chains and cables, and a roadway was built on top. The result was a bridge that moves with the waves while still supporting the weight of thousands of cars.
The first bridge of this kind opened in 1940 and was named the Lacey V. Murrow Memorial Bridge. Today, Seattle has several floating bridges, including the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge—the longest floating bridge in the world, measuring more than two kilometers (1.2 miles) in length.
The Workers Called “Manongs”
Building these bridges required enormous effort—hard, dangerous work, often carried out in the rain and cold wind, since it rains in Seattle so frequently. Many of the people who built the pontoons, poured the concrete, and worked at the construction sites were immigrants from the Philippines. They were called by the affectionate Ilocano term “manong,” meaning “older brother” or a respected person.
These people sailed to America in search of a better life. At the time, the Philippines had a special relationship with the United States, making it easier for Filipinos to enter than residents of many other countries. But easier did not mean easy. After arriving, they faced exhausting work: laboring at canneries in Alaska, harvesting crops in the fields, and, in some cases, working on construction sites—including bridge projects.
Historian Dorothy Fujihara, who studied the history of Seattle’s Asian communities, noted:
“These people built a city where it was difficult for them to find housing and respect. Their hands created things everyone used, but their names almost never appeared in the newspapers.”
The Bridges Are Aging—What About the Memory?
Today, decades later, Seattle’s old floating bridges require repairs. The concrete is cracking from age and exposure to water, the cables are wearing out, and the city is spending enormous sums to keep the bridges safe. Local officials regularly argue over who should pay for the repairs—everyone through taxes, or only those who use the bridges every day.
Yet these debates almost never mention the people who once poured the first concrete into the cold waters of the lake. Seattle’s Filipino community is now one of the city’s largest Asian communities, and Filipino shops, restaurants, and a cultural center named in honor of those workers—the Manong Cultural Center—can still be found in the International District.
Here is a brief table showing how the history of Seattle’s floating bridges has changed:
| Year | Event |
|---|---|
| 1940 | The first floating bridge, the Lacey V. Murrow Memorial Bridge, opened |
| 1963 | A second bridge across Lake Washington was built |
| 1990 | The old bridge partially sank during a storm |
| 2016 | The new Evergreen Point Floating Bridge opened—the longest in the world |
Why It Is Important to Remember
The history of Seattle’s floating bridges is not simply a story about engineers and concrete. It is a story about people who came from far away, worked as hard as they could—often in difficult conditions—and left behind something used by millions of people, even though they do not know their names.
The next time you hear about a bridge that “floats” on the water, remember: behind every great structure are ordinary people with their own dreams, hardships, and stories. And sometimes the most important thing is not to forget to ask: Who built this? Cities are not made only of concrete and steel; they are also the memory of the people who created them.
