Hope, Tears and High Emotions

MINNEAPOLIS, Aug. 2, 2007 — -- Sherry Engebretsen called her family at 5:39 p.m. Wednesday to say she was leaving her downtown Minneapolis office in a few minutes. It had been a long, stressful day.

"I said, 'We'll talk more when you get home,'" said Ron Engebretsen, Sherry's husband of 32 years, recounting the phone conversation. "And she said, 'Yeah, I'll be home in a few minutes.'"

Engebretsen's commute normally took her over the 10th Avenue bridge, but for some reason -- her family isn't sure why – she chose to take an alternate route. Late Thursday, authorities confirmed she was among those who died when the I-35W bridge collapsed. Earlier, her family had held out hope she was still alive, phoning hospitals and distributing her photo to reporters.

"She's a fighter. My wife's a fighter," Ron had said, choking back tears.

It's unclear how many people are still unaccounted for, and it could be days before authorities have an answer for relatives awaiting word. Some of those loved ones, including the Engebretsen family, have been gathering at a downtown Minneapolis hotel, shuttered in a ballroom with grief counselors and clergy.

"I know that waiting is really hard, and I'm going to do that with people, but I'm not going to try to give answers I don't have," said the Rev. Canon Margaret Otterburn of St. Mark's Episcopal Cathedral in Minneapolis, who is on hand for the families.

Wednesday's bridge collapse has left a void in the heart of this city, both geographically and emotionally. Victims, rescue workers and residents are trying to understand how one of Minneapolis' most-traveled thoroughfares could turn into a death trap.

Minneapolis Police Chief Tim Dolan's voice wavered as he spoke of victims who were trapped in their vehicles.