The Progression

While taking a road-trip this past summer to Florida, I passed through a tunnel in Mobile, Alabama that brought back very fond memories of my childhood. The nostalgia of my adolescence warmed my heart and reminded me of my yesteryears. I can vividly remember the anticipation I felt as the tunnel would near, as my mother drove our old beat up Ford Explorer down Highway 146, waiting, and waiting, and waiting, until finally we entered the mouth. I took a deep breath hoping to make it the entirety of the tunnel, not caring whether I passed out or not. The radio signal was lost, and the lights from the tunnel provided the pseudo-sunlight, while the echoes from the the cars in the oncoming lane reverberated off of the tunnel walls. A moment that as a child, is synonymous with adventure. An entirely new world, under water, albeit blind to the elements, but none-the-less something the sparks a child's imagination. 

I sat down with my mother and father, Laurie and Michael Davidson, who both worked in LaPorte and used the tunnel daily, and reminisced about it. Not everything however, was positive. As my father recounted, "it was a hassle, I drove through there every day for nearly 40 years and it was always full of traffic." I paused to laugh for a moment,  and then I asked him if he had anything nice to say about it. He continued, "well if it were not for the tunnel, I would have been forced to take the Lynchburg ferry everyday". My mother however, seemed to have more fond memories than my father. "One thing I bet you did not know, is that there was a playground and picnic area on top. We used to go up there all time time." This was certainly a fact that I was unaware of. She continued "my grandfather Paul Norwine, and two of my uncles, Gene and Dicky Norwine, were bricklayers at the time, and helped to build the tunnel." As with everything in life, memories whether they are positive or negative, depend on your personal experiences. For my father, it seemed to be more of a burden, while my mother, not unlike myself, had more sentimental experiences with the tunnel. 

The Baytown-LaPorte tunnel served as a gateway from Baytown to LaPorte underneath the Houston Ship Channel. Built in 1953, this two lane passage allowed motorists an alternative, quicker route to and from. The tunnel served its purpose for forty two years until the opening of the Fred Hartman Bridge in 1995. The symbology of the transformation from the tunnel to the bridge in my mind is progression. The city of Baytown has continued to grow throughout the years, and has expanded through not only annexation, but culturally as well. While some parts of Baytown it would seem are behind the proverbial times, it is fair to say that with the opening of new shopping centers and restaurants, Baytown is certainly progressing. There are many symbols of Baytown's heritage, from Texas Avenue, the Oak tree, and even the San Jacinto Mall, with all of them carrying their own history and relevance to the matter at hand. But in my mind, the transformation from the Baytown tunnel to the Fred Hartman bridge is the catalyst in our community, one that has not only helped to improve our foreign and domestic commerce through the ship channel, but is also symbolic of our progression.