I keep expecting to hear that she's fallen.  With each season that she survives, the strength of the Frisco Pier inspires me.  If the old, rusting, rotting pier can resist all the elements that's she's up against, imagine the strength that lies within us.  We've got support, people who love us, lift us up, rebuild our broken parts.  The only love she gets is from the flocks of doves and pigeons that have made their home in her deteriorating house, and I fear they're doing much more harm than good.  One day she will collapse.  Whether it's by act of God or  at the hands of the park service, she will stand no more.  But until then, I'll visit her and honor her strengths.

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