Michaela Browne-Gallagher

Professor Mulready

History, Thought, and Art

09/20/2024       

                         Piecing Together the Past: The Story of a Puzzle

          This object was a gift. 

           Not to me, at least not at first. This object, a framed jigsaw puzzle of the Forth Road bridge, was first given to my grandfather, Martin Browne on September 4th, 1964.

          September 4th, 1964 is the day that the bridge shown in the puzzle opened its gates for the first time. Specifically, these gates are depicted as a large suspension bridge with tall, dark towers that seem to pierce the sky and the Forth River below. In the puzzle, this river is shown as an expanse of different shades of blue rippling under the bridge. 

          The bridge is shown to be grey and light brown in color, with the entrance of the bridge being brown, and the towers being grey. In the background, there is another large structure that’s made up of a series of links. Upon further research, I found that that is the Forth Bridge, the Forth Road Bridge’s sister bridge.  

          It is a bridge that was built by many, many men — my grandfather being one of them. 

          According to my mother, my grandfather was born in Fife, Scotland, on October 6th, 1926. He was the youngest of three boys and was sent out to work at age eleven. He was alone when he was sent out to work, having to cross hills, go through towns, and do odd jobs just to survive. He did all this with no shoes, my mother stresses, and that’s why, in almost every photo we have of him, the shoes he has are shining. 

        There are records in the National Federal Scottish Census with my grandfather’s name. In 1939, he was listed as an Edinburgh resident. In 1941, he was listed as a Glasgow resident, and the list goes until 1946, when he settled down in Dunfermline. This census, and later, the bridge, is a testament to how far my grandfather traveled, how hard he worked, and how many lives he must’ve lived before he settled down in Dunfermline. 

         He crossed many things on his journey—bridges, hills, cities, and towns. I’m not sure of the nature of his lives before he met my grandmother, but I can imagine him: his black hair, determined eyes, and soft voice, going through the motions until he found his home in Dunfermline.

          All this traveling is how he came to work in construction. At the time, construction was a well-paying job that offered job security. It was a stable job in Dunfermline, which was part of the reason he stayed. For my grandfather, that was everything that his upbringing hadn’t provided. Additionally, with he and his family’s upcoming move to London, as well as the fact that he would soon have a family of five, a job like this was an incredible opportunity despite the risks. 

          This bridge is located in Scotland. It was the first bridge of its time to be a multispan cantilever bridge that allowed for pedestrian, railway, and car access. Working on this bridge was something that my grandfather took pride in. This bridge was his labor of love.

           On the back of this puzzle, the initials of the ACD Bridge Company Ltd construction company are written in pencil. These initials are written in script, the typical handwriting for educated Scotsmen during this time.

          This company was founded in September of 1958, when construction for the Forth Road Bridge just began. This company is a conglomerate of different construction companies: Sir William Arrol & Company, The Cleveland Bridge & Engineering Company, and Dorman Long (Bridge & Engineering) Ltd. These companies were all established at different times but came together to oversee this monumental construction project. 

          Besides the signature, there is no one credited for the image that the puzzle is made up of. There are only the hastily scribbled letters on the back of the slightly browning puzzle pieces. This signature is interesting because it spans across three puzzle pieces. Because of this placement, the signature wouldn’t make sense unless the puzzle was pieced together. It makes me wonder, was it not supposed to be a puzzle? Was this signature hastily scribbled for a reason? Was it an afterthought? 

          My mother recalls that her father used to come home late a lot, his eyes tired, and soot staining clothes. She talks of how he had calloused hands, but how those calloused hands always held a paper-bagged gift for her and her sisters. From candy to marbles to puzzle pieces, he always thought of his family first. 

          To show for the hard work, he received this puzzle from his employers at ACD Bridge Company as a piece of his earnings. According to the company and online listings, there were only about 200 or so of these puzzles distributed to the workers, despite there being more than 4600 men working on it. My mother says that my grandfather was chosen to receive it because he was so handsome and because they wanted his photo for the newspaper. I couldn’t find any newspaper articles about any workers during the bridge’s opening ceremony, so I’m not sure how true my mother’s claim was, but I’ve heard it so much that I’d like to believe it’s true. 

         Looking at the cars shown in the puzzle, you can see that they bear the name “Dunlop”. Dunlop was a company that specialized in rubber products like tires and car equipment. Its logo is white and is shown on several cars on the puzzle. 

          This symbol was purposeful. This puzzle wasn’t even a true trophy, but an advertisement for Dunlop. I can imagine my grandfather’s calloused hands tracing the then fresh edges of the puzzle, wondering, waiting, if he could finally rest and if this was it.

          This jigsaw puzzle is approximately 200 pieces large, with it being 14 pieces by 14 pieces long and wide. Its specific dimensions are 24 inches by 18 inches. The edges of the jigsaw puzzle are rounded with age and use, and there are smudges scattered across the pieces. The size of this puzzle, slightly more than that of two pieces of paper lined up together, pales in comparison to the actual 2.5 km bridge.

          I have never seen this piece broken apart, and I have never seen the Forth River without its bridge. Both of these things are things only my grandfather experienced, and this puzzle, in a way, represents all the pieces coming together — steel, bolts, cables, and wires all coming together to form something way bigger than anything around it. 

          As my mother tells me this story, she pauses for a moment, smiles, and says how my grandfather came home the day the bridge opened, a smile on his face. That day, my grandfather didn’t have a single paper bag for his daughters. That was something new, because he always had a gift for them. 

          Instead, he had this puzzle, a few flowers Queen Elizabeth got him, and a plan. So, the first thing my grandfather had done once he brought it home was to let my mom and her sisters put the pieces together, and to rest. 

          My mother’s the one who, 40 years later, received the painting from my grandfather shortly before he died. It’s the puzzle she herself pieced together. It’s the puzzle she framed and placed on the wall before I could even properly walk. She mentions how she put it together as a child whenever she didn’t want to do her work, and how her sister often used it as a placemat. It is a puzzle that stands for so much and has witnessed so many memories, that it too has become an integral part of those memories. 

          I was never properly gifted this puzzle like my mother and grandfather were. It’s always been a part of my life — something that allows me to get to know about my grandfather. 

          Me and my mother love the puzzle despite it not being a true reward for all my grandfather’s hard work. But knowing the person that my mother portrays my grandfather as, I’m sure he would’ve loved it anyway.

          This puzzle of the bridge, regardless of its circumstances, shows the longevity of connection — how things can be advertised, made, loved, forgotten, and forgiven. 

          My uncalloused hands brush across the glass that protects this puzzle that is many, many years older than I am, and I wonder what it’s like to piece together something so much larger than myself.