03/26/2025
That’s me in the picture: Kevin Berthia on the Golden Gate Bridge. I was convinced I was going to hurl myself off but his voice made me stop and grab the railings. That’s what you see I had never been to the Golden Gate bridge before that day. I didn’t even know how to get there – I had to ask for directions.
I had never dealt with any of the problems in my life, and that morning I was overwhelmed by it all. I was adopted at six months and my adoptive parents divorced when I was 12. I had just become a father; my daughter was born prematurely and was in an incubator for eight weeks. I blamed myself.
I had never spoken to anybody about how I felt and I never accepted I had depression. Where I come from – Oakland, California – reputation is everything, so I convinced everyone I was OK. But I was tired and I couldn’t do it any more.
I parked and walked towards the bridge. As I jumped over the railings I heard someone say: “Hey, wait a minute.” I was convinced I was going to end my life , but at the last moment his voice made me stop and grab the railings. That’s what you see in the picture – me standing on the ledge. I now know that was Officer Briggs (center, leaning on the railings). He snapped me back to reality. I was on that ledge for 92 minutes, and for 89 of those I just talked. I got everything out and he listened without judging.
He tried to show me the important things in my life, focusing on my daughter. Hope came back. I put my arms up, and he and another officer helped me up and back over the railings.
There were reporters everywhere, so they covered my face and took me to San Francisco general hospital. I was exhausted. The next thing, I was at Fremont Medical Centre, where I stayed for a week.
Afterwards I went back to my old habit of burying things, and never talked about the bridge. When I discovered that the photograph was on the front page of the San Francisco Chronicle, that shut me down. It just so happened that they were voting on whether to install a su***de prevention barrier the same day, so the photograph became iconic; but I wasn’t ready to deal with it.
The first time I faced the picture was eight years later, in May 2013, when I was asked to present an award to Officer Briggs at the American Foundation for Su***de Prevention’s lifesavers dinner in New York. That was the first time I had looked him in the eye – on the bridge I had my head down. At that dinner I saw the impact of the photograph on everyone in the room and realized my story could help people.
News reports from that event got it wrong. They said I was happy and married with two children. Reporters are always after the happily-ever-after ending. I had two children, yes, but I wasn’t married, nor was I happy. I had had a lot of highs and lows in those intervening eight years. But that night was the first time I actually started to feel OK. So, really, Officer Briggs saved my life twice.
I have since become a su***de prevention advocate, encouraging people to talk through their problems rather than think about ending their lives. I now know that depression is a part of me but not who I am. I have three children and a new partner with whom I will spend the rest of my life. Now is the happily ever after.
