Bryan Stalder
Contributor
In 2019, the Northeast News brought readers a series of postcards from Route 66, and I often reference those stories in my travels along the Mother Road. On a recent trip to Pasadena, California, I was surprised to discover that one of Route 66’s most iconic landmarks — the Colorado Street Bridge — has a Kansas City connection. The graceful concrete span, a key point of interest along Route 66, was designed by the Kansas City–based engineering firm Waddell & Harrington, founded by John Alexander Low Waddell.
Kansas Citians already know Waddell & Harrington’s work closer to home. Although Waddell’s name is most often associated with massive movable spans and national commissions, several of the firm’s most important projects still stand in the Midwest.
Foremost among them is the ASB Bridge (often called the Armour–Swift–Burlington or “Fratt” Bridge), which opened in 1911. This Waddell & Harrington design remains one of the most distinctive engineering landmarks in Kansas City — a double-deck, telescoping vertical-lift span that still carries rail traffic across the Missouri River. It’s recognized by the American Society of Civil Engineers as a historic civil-engineering landmark, a testament to Waddell’s pioneering lift-bridge designs.
Another Kansas City landmark, the Twelfth Street Viaduct, showcases the firm’s early mastery of reinforced concrete. The double-deck structure connected Quality Hill to the West Bottoms and, at the time of its completion, was one of the largest concrete viaducts in the nation. Both bridges remain powerful reminders of an era when engineering innovation met civic ambition.
So when Pasadena leaders sought to build a new bridge across the Arroyo Seco in the early 1910s, they turned to Waddell & Harrington. The firm, formed in 1907 by veteran bridge engineer J.A.L. Waddell and mechanical engineer John L. Harrington, had earned a national reputation for sound, economical designs. Though they were best known for vertical-lift bridges like the ASB, the Colorado Street Bridge would stand out as one of their rare non-lift structures — a Beaux-Arts–influenced concrete arch that combined classical beauty with cutting-edge engineering.

Driving across the Colorado Street Bridge. Photo by Bryan Stalder, 2025
Built to carry Colorado Street (now Colorado Boulevard) over the deep Arroyo Seco canyon, the bridge stretches 1,468 feet, with a main span of 233 feet, rising nearly 150 feet above the canyon floor. Its sweeping arches, ornate railings, and decorative light standards made it an instant postcard favorite when it opened in 1913. The original construction contract totaled about $240,000 — a substantial investment for the city at the time.
The bridge’s popularity was documented not only in municipal records but also in the flood of tourism that followed. Vintage linen postcards from the 1930s often depict the bridge spanning the Arroyo Seco with the San Gabriel Mountains or Pasadena’s grand hotels in the background. These colorful souvenirs helped fix the bridge in the public imagination as both an engineering marvel and a picturesque destination along Route 66.
Over the decades, the Colorado Street Bridge has weathered earthquakes, closures, and restorations, yet its silhouette endures as a testament to the civic spirit and artistry of early 20th-century infrastructure. Listed on the National Register of Historic Places, the bridge continues to attract photographers, historians, and nostalgic travelers retracing the same scenic views sold on postcards a century ago.

Looking up at the Colorado Street Bridge from the Desiderio Neighborhood Park.
Photo by Bryan Stalder, 2025
When I visited recently, I was struck by how this elegant Beaux-Arts landmark has been both preserved and altered by time. The bridge’s ornate balustrades and lamp posts still line the curving roadway, but today they stand behind tall chain-link fences that run the length of the span. These barriers, while functional, obscure much of the bridge’s architectural beauty — a sobering reminder of the structure’s darker history.
The Colorado Street Bridge has long been known by another name: the “Suicide Bridge.” In the early 20th century, it became a tragic magnet for those seeking to end their lives. By 1937, 87 deaths had been recorded, leading to the installation of an eight-foot-high barrier. Though effective for a time, suicides continued to occur sporadically, giving the bridge its enduring, if unfortunate, nickname.
In recent years, the City of Pasadena has sought to balance historic preservation with public safety. Temporary chain-link fences were installed to deter jumpers, and the city has since commissioned designs for a permanent barrier that would better reflect the bridge’s historic character while still serving its life-saving purpose. Public input and design revisions continue, reflecting Pasadena’s commitment to both safety and heritage.
Standing there, I couldn’t help but notice how traffic roared across the nearby 210 Freeway — hundreds of cars per minute — while only a handful of vehicles crept across the old Colorado Street Bridge. The contrast felt almost cinematic, like a scene from Pixar’s Cars, where gleaming freeways bypass the handmade beauty of yesterday’s roads. Once a shining feat of engineering and architecture, the bridge now feels like a relic from another era: still dignified, still beautiful, but largely overlooked.
Yet for those who pause long enough to appreciate it, the Colorado Street Bridge remains a masterpiece of its time — a structure that bridges more than just the Arroyo Seco. It connects the industrial genius of the Midwest with the romantic optimism of early California. It’s a monument to an age when infrastructure was designed not just for utility, but for grace.
For historians of engineering, it stands as proof that Kansas City’s influence extended far beyond the Missouri River. Firms like Waddell & Harrington — rooted in the Midwest but operating nationwide — shaped the physical and cultural landscape of America. And for postcard collectors and history enthusiasts, the bridge continues to tell its layered story: part civic project, part engineering milestone, part cultural icon.
A century after its opening, the Colorado Street Bridge still carries more than traffic. It carries the legacy of a Kansas City engineer whose vision quite literally spanned from coast to coast.

