phillyskyline.com | NO CARS ON I-95

My buddy Buck from back home in Tyrone called me at 6 yesterday to ask me how things were looking out on I-95, knowing that I live a whole three blocks from it. I wanted to say "really quiet," but as there were four really loud helicopters hovering above, feeding their local network news live footage of the empty interstate, all I said was "WHAT?"

I was at first amused that 95's temporary closure would even make news in western PA, but then I realized that this is the east coast's primary artery, the country's traffic-moving jugular from the Canadian border at Houlton, Maine, 2000 miles south to Miami, Florida, where it defers back to US-1 (the pre-Eisenhower north-south which we know locally as Roosevelt Boulevard and City Line Avenue) on its way to Key Largo and Key West. So its closing is big, and seeing it in USA Today and on CNN is no surprise.

All told, it's better that Philly's highways made the national news before a column collapsed than after, and good on PennDOT for doing the right thing, and on the fastest track possible. Around 8 o'clock, the evening foreman said that they were still waiting on the replacement ~~columns~~ towers to be delivered, noting that "well, they have to sit in the same traffic as everyone else just to get here."

The Inquirer's Peter Mucha and Joseph Gambardello reported from the scene at 7am that they are there and being installed as we speak. PennDOT still expects to have I-95 reopened late this evening, for a total closure of two days (and four rush hours). Not bad.

Recognizing that I'd probably never see I-95 without traffic on it ever again, I thought what the hell, I'm gonna just hop up there and check it out for myself. So I did.

This is what I-95 looks like at night with no cars on it. This is looking northward just above the Port Richmond Veterans Memorial on Richmond Street.

Walking out onto the silent interstate expressway, devoid of cars and trucks and buses, of people and any noise at all, was half-eerie, half-adrenaline rush. Very much a movie-set moment, the 28 Days Later / I Am Legend post-apocalypse type. As it had just started to drizzle, the road started to glow orange under the snake lights. In the middle of the empty road, I could have headed north toward Bridesburg or south toward the skyline and my home. I mean . . . duh.

(Click, enlarge.)

I decided to walk south in the northbound lane, because why not? There was freight train activity on the Conrail Yards just below and a police helicopter was shining its spotlight somewhere over Kensington. The Ben Franklin Bridge was changing between red and purple lights, doing that thing where it has a white light follow the Speedline train as it crosses the bridge.

As I got up to the crest of the viaduct in the northbound lane, I stopped to take in the view and got the bright idea to take a picture of myself lying down in the middle of the highway, because why not? I switched out to my 11-18mm wide-angle lens and lowered my tripod two notches to focus on the white stripe of the highway. I set the ten second timer and ran over to my spot and sprawled out. I heard the shutter begin and then heard what sounded like a car. I didn't think much of it and tried to stay as still as possible, as it was a long (25 second) exposure, but the sound got louder. OK, I thought, I'll just have to lift my head to see, and HOLY SHIT a state trooper is flying, boy, flying like 80 miles an hour with his red and blues on coming right for me. I jumped up real quick and waved at him like "nah man, I'm cool, I'm good people, really!" Meanwhile, the tripod is still standing in the same place, exposing the picture.

(Click, enlarge.)

The 30-something officer, the only other person I had seen in an entire hour, rolls his window down and says simply, "Dude. What are you doing?"

"Well, clearly I'm pressing my luck, if nothing else," I told him.

"Did someone give you permission to be up here?"

"Well, no, but I didn't really ask, either . . . I'm sorry man, as a photographer, I just couldn't resist the opportunity to take pictures of an interstate with no cars on it." I handed him my card and told him the photos I took would be on this web site.

"All right look," he said, "you know you're not supposed to be here, so do me a favor and just get off the interstate."

"Yes sir, can do."

"And walk on the shoulder," he said before shaking his head and speeding further south in the northbound lane. So I did. I hopped the median and continued on the southbound shoulder on down to the Girard Ave exit, a mile and a half south of where I'd started. As I was just about at the exit, two more state troopers whizzed by but didn't stop to chat. Gotta say, that was a bit of a rush too.

To see more photos of the evening on an empty I-95, please click
HERE.

–B Love