Bridges and Suicide

I watched a fascinating movie last night on cable. It was a documentary about people who commit suicide by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. Although the theme of the movie is rather morbid, I found myself riveted to it. The filmmaker gave us a glimpse into the lives of both the victims and their families and portrayed the pain and hurt that friends and loved ones feel after someone commits suicide. Additionally, the romanticized idea of suicide that is obviously advanced by the mere fact that this film was made is actually tempered by the brutal, violent depictions and testimony of the survivors.
The most disturbing thing about this movie to me, however, was the callous and unfeeling manner in which many of the victims were viewed by passers-by. Time and time again, the long-range video cameras would zoom in on a solitary person walking along the bridge. Often nervous and fidgety, the person would walk along, and then climb over the safety railing to sit atop or perch on the edge. Many times, the video would depict people walking or riding bikes past the person. Some would intervene and try to help, and at least one guy was successful in hauling a young woman back over the rail. Often though, the people passing by would just glance over and then look away. Look away.
Maybe they just didn't think it was real. Maybe they didn't have time to comprehend what they were seeing. Maybe they didn’t care.
I’d like to think that I wouldn’t be like that – that I would notice, that I would care --that I would have the courage to say “Are you OK?” and not be afraid to make a fool of myself.

A friend of mine, who is also the youth pastor at my church, recently said something like this: Sometimes, in order to invest ourselves in the lives of other people, we have to get our hands dirty. It takes guts to ask someone if they are OK, when we know the answer might be "No".

Here’s a synopsis on the movie, from http://www.imdb.com/

Plot summary for The Bridge (2006/I)
People suffer largely unnoticed while the rest of the world goes about its business. This is a documentary exploration of the mythic beauty of the Golden Gate Bridge, the most popular suicide destination in the world, and those drawn by its call. Steel and his crew filmed the bridge during daylight hours from two separate locations for all of 2004, recording most of the two dozen deaths in that year (and preventing several others). They also taped interviews with friends, families and witnesses, who recount in sorrowful detail stories of struggles with depression, substance abuse and mental illness. Raises questions about suicide, mental illness and civic responsibility as well as the filmmaker's relationship to his fraught and complicated material. Written by G. Leggat