Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Engineer’s Week: A Perspective

As school children, we once celebrated Presidents Washington and Lincoln’s birthdays in February. I remember our West Islip High School geometry teacher, Mr. Finn, reminding us it was easy to recall the square root of three (1.732) any time you need it because it was the year George Washington was born, 1732. Today there are many celebrations in February. For example, the American Society of Civil Engineers (ASCE) celebrates Engineer’s Week. But what is being celebrated? I believe it is the intellectual achievements of individual men that we honor.

I had the opportunity to join Steinman, Boynton, Gronquist and Birdsall in 1978, probably the best bridge design firm in the world. Mr. Steinman, who had designed the Henry Hudson double-deck arch bridge, had passed away long before I joined the firm that carried his name. He was a man of genius, which showed in many different ways. One was in his prediction of the Tacoma Narrows Bridge failure, a catastrophic event that is shown in most civil engineering schools today. D. B. Steinman predicted its failure before it was constructed. For his efforts, however, he was told to mind his own business! In one of his books I found in the office library, I read a description and saw sketches of a series of bridges that he suggested to be built, including a suspension bridge from the eastern end of Long Island to Connecticut. There is a fascinating film documentary about his efforts to obtain financing for the Sault Saint Marie Bridge, Michigan. And he wrote poetry.

Mr. Boynton designed the Tagus River suspension bridge in Lisbon, Portugal. When he was retired, he’d stop into the office once in a while just to see what was new. Another of his projects was the redesign of the Brooklyn Bridge in 1948 that required removing train service and rail tracks. He saved the city a lot of money by reusing the existing steel wherever possible.

Mr. Gronquist was retired as well. He told me that Mr. Steinman kept him on the drafting boards for fifty years before he was allowed to run his own project. To me, that is the definition of an old-line bridge engineering design firm.

Mr. Birdsall, an honorary member of the American Society of Civil Engineers, also known as “Mr. Bridges”, was an active partner. He had many patents for wire rope as he had previously worked at Roebling Wire for many years. Recall that John and his son Washington Roebling designed and built the Brooklyn Bridge. It was Roebling’s use of wire rope that led to the construction of long span suspension bridges.

In the late 1970s, the firm was selected to inspect and prepare the rehabilitation design for the Brooklyn Bridge and the Queensboro Bridge, two of the four East River crossings. Management could not believe that the firm was not selected for all four structures. It is understandable. Two of the five active partners had done their theses on the Williamsburg Bridge when they were in college. Even though the firm did not get that bridge, there were literally days spent discussing the effects of wracking caused by train dynamics and the requirement for and how to stiffen the bridge. Names from the past were brought into their discussions. Al Zuckerman, for example, a partner and Chief Engineer, mentioned Otto Lilienthahl, a civil engineer who was interested in flight. Lilienthal pioneered wind tunnel experiments used on scale models to verify results of aerodynamic calculations. Both conditions had to be addressed by the designer. To be the Chief Engineer of an engineering firm is quite an honor. With the depth and breadth of Al’s knowledge, it was easy to understand why he was so highly esteemed.

There were five associates in the firm. One of them was Zwi Cannor, a soil and hydraulics expert. The story oft repeated was that a bridge abutment being constructed was experiencing movement. D. B. Steinman sent the young engineer to take a look. Zwi suggested the use of batter piles to stop the sliding. Milton Elkow, another associate, predicted the failure of the Hartford Civic center roof due to an inadequate connection detail. His warning was not addressed. When it failed, he was invited to design new connections. Another of Milton’s projects was the design of a truss bridge used by mining trucks that traveled on 36-foot-diameter wheels. The idea was one truck would cross fully loaded while another crossed traveling empty. These trucks are so huge that there are no design standards for them. Previously, no one had designed a two-lane structure for this use, as all others were single lane bridges. Interestingly, he suggested erecting the truss on the ground and flipping it into position using its pin connection. Adam Worth, still another associate, retired shortly after I joined Steinman. He was the chief designer for the Sault Saint Marie Bridge, the longest suspension bridge in the world at the time it was erected in 1955. Before he left, he gave me his highway design book.

Another way for a young engineer to learn was to check a more experienced engineer’s calculations. This is where he or she can get insight into the methodology used to solve interesting problems. Al Zuckerman asked me to check some of Karl Ulstup’s structural calculations. I knew this would be challenging and expand my knowledge. I started going through the calcs and decided I needed to see the reference books Karl used. I went to the office library and found them written in German and Swedish. This reminded me of our Stony Brook University chemistry professor who lectured that if we were to be engineering science majors, we had best learn German, Russian and/or Japanese and at least one other foreign language. I took the German texts home and my wife, who majored in German, helped me. The only engineer I knew who was fluent in Swedish was an electrical-mechanical engineer, Robert Sebris, who had retired and moved from West Islip to South Carolina. I went to Karl who patiently explained what was in the references and why he chose the Swedish texts. When Al retired, Karl was named the Chief Engineer.

Henry Hanwerker, an associate, was placed in charge of the inspection and design of both the Brooklyn and Queensboro bridges. This is how highly regarded he was: the partners knew he could manage both projects concurrently. The inspection of the Queensboro weighed heavily on Henry. He determined that the outer roadways had to be closed to repair the supporting cantilevered connections. The City wouldn’t buy into closing the roadways due to the impact on vehicular traffic. Henry decided to take several City decision makers out for a walk on the bridge. He explained that if the connections were allowed to continue to erode, there would be catastrophic failure and no vehicular traffic could or would cross the bridge. This wasn’t obvious to them. To make his point, Henry threw a three-pound (laborer’s) hammer through a connection and again asked the City to close the bridge. This is how the outer lanes of the Queensboro Bridge came to be closed for steel repairs. An avid soccer fan, Henry suggested we see Pele and Beckenbauer play (on the same team) at Giants’ Stadium. It was a beautiful sunny day and the two stars controlled the game. The other nine players on their side had a wonderful view of the game, as did we.

A subtlety learned at this old-line bridge engineering firm was that if you were asked by a partner or an associate to work on one of their projects, you were considered to be in good standing. I’ve been fortunate to work as a civil engineer my entire career, to learn from some of the best, not only engineering, but many interesting and subtle things in life. I learned at Steinman that long span bridges can be imagined, planned, designed and built by man. It is this intellectual achievement of individual men that is honored during Engineer’s Week.




Henry W. Hessing

No comments: