We know a lot about the bridge: It’s the Eads. We know about the big boat, the Golden Eagle. In the 1920s, it was the last floating vessel from the Civil War-era Eagle Packet Co., though it once had two sister ships, the Spread Eagle and the Bald Eagle. Two decades later, the Golden Eagle sank on the way to Nashville. The passengers scrambled safely to shore on a crooked gangplank, but all that survived of the ship were the pilot’s house and a case of booze. And of the little boat, we know…nothing. The waving man wears a dress shirt, suspenders and tie; the figure to his left is a woman, probably his wife. The two boys on the dock, waving back, must be family. This is easy: they’re on a tourist outing. It’s the man at the wheel of the speedboat who’s the real enigma. That deadpan face. The ribbed white tank top. The goiter. Maybe he was a spy. Maybe he was mafia. Or maybe he was just the guy with the boat who charged 25 cents to take people out for a spin on the river.
↧
