(See the end of this article for a list of warning signs of suicide. There are also suggestions for interventions on the St. Johns Bridge).
Ten bodies have been pulled from the Willamette and Columbia rivers between mid-April and mid-May, including at least two at Cathedral Park in North Portland. According to the Multnomah County Sheriff, they were either suicides or accidents. The sheriff termed the phenomenon “not unusual.”
Suicide is an important subject that requires more awareness and usually goes unreported in the media for fear of inciting copy-cat behavior. We offer a survivor’s story below. The writer shared it with North Peninsula Review in hope of helping others experiencing trauma and suicidal thoughts.
Suicide survivor:
“I didn’t want to die. I just wanted the pain to stop. I tried suicide as a result of my growing up in a dysfunctional family with an alcoholic, rage-aholic father. He tore through my self-worth like wildfire, scorching every trace of identity I had. His fists did damage, but it was his words—ice-cold, calculated, venomous—that shattered me the most.
I didn’t fit his idea of 1950’s masculinity. He shamed me for my lack of muscle. I had to hide my body from people seeing me. Most of all, he instilled an almost total fear of the world, fear for my life. I couldn’t face other boys. I didn’t speak their language, trash talk, bravado. I was afraid they’d see through me. I avoided connection. It was easier to be invisible.
My mother was there, but not present. She stood frozen while my father raged. She didn’t stop him. She didn’t comfort me afterward. That silence was the worst betrayal of all. In that house, I was utterly alone. I didn’t dream of family or love. My world was made of gray walls, clenched teeth and a calendar with no future marked on it. I wasn’t living. I was enduring.
By the time I was 18 and left home, I was totally unprepared to function in the world. Panic attacks were brutal. When fear strikes and you’re sitting in a chair frozen, unable to move, your body tingling and tears running down your face, it freaks out the people you’re with. I felt unable to take anymore.
After a last meal, I swallowed a bottle of pills. I soon lay unconscious in my bed. It was an act of God or guardian angels that stepped in because I got a phone call. My roommates got me up and moving to the phone. I told the caller I couldn’t talk and went back to bed, but it was enough movement to get my stomach churning. I locked myself in the bathroom and tossed my last meal. My roommates were concerned, knocking on the door. I passed out and woke up in the hospital with a nurse putting an IV in my arm.
If I could speak to the 18-year-old I once was, I would say, ‘The misery you’re in isn’t going to last. Don’t be afraid to share. You can’t do it yourself. Get help.’
The shadow of my father eventually loosened its grip. I found people who saw me, not what I lacked, but who I was. I slowly stepped into the world. I started therapy. I began to speak, then to feel.
Getting out of the toxic environment, keeping my distance from negative people, I found people I could think of as friends. I found a way to function reasonably well in the world. Finding things I enjoy doing helped build up confidence and gave me pleasure. Building new habits, positive things, helped too.
To anyone standing where I once stood, there is a path forward.
Find a therapist who listens and sees you. Explore how your emotions live in your body—how trauma lodges itself in the nervous system, not just the mind. Learn to be gentle with yourself. Let healing take time.
And if you’re open to it, seek something bigger, something spiritual, something grounding. Not necessarily religion, but meaning. Even a fragile one is enough to begin.
I still carry fragments of the liabilities formed when I was younger. I can deal with them in rational ways that help build me up and keep me growing. I have friends I trust and care about. There are things I do that I enjoy and give me something to be proud about. My life now is completely different than when I was lost. I’m grateful I could live and learn to survive.
Your life isn’t over. The story isn’t finished. The page you’re on now may be dark, but there are still unwritten pages, and some of them—believe me—will feel like sunlight.”
The St. Johns Bridge in Portland, Oregon, has been associated with suicide attempts and fatalities over the years. While comprehensive statistics are limited, several incidents have been reported:
May 16, 2021: Portland Police responded to a person in crisis on the St. Johns Bridge. Officers from the North Precinct, along with the Enhanced Crisis Intervention Team and the Crisis Negotiation Team, assisted the individual, who returned to safety.
November 20, 2023: Portland Fire & Rescue’s High Angle Ropes Team responded to an individual who had climbed over the bridge’s railing. The person was safely secured and returned to the bridge deck without injury.
April 18, 2025: A body was found in the Willamette River near the St. Johns Bridge. The Multnomah County Medical Examiner identified the deceased as 52-year-old Brandon G. Williams of Portland. The cause of death was not immediately released.
With ten bodies having been recovered from the river in the past month. We need to act now.
Immediate warning signs of suicide:
These require urgent attention:
– Talking about wanting to die or kill oneself
– Talking about wanting to die or kill oneself
– Looking for a method (searching online, acquiring weapons)
– Looking for a method (searching online, acquiring weapons)
– Expressing hopelessness or saying “everyone would be better off without me”
– Saying goodbye, giving away belongings, or writing a will
– Sudden calmness after distress
– Reckless behavior or self-harm
– Withdrawal from friends and family
– Major mood swings
Behavioral & Psychological Signs:
– Persistent depression, anxiety, or agitation
– Irritability or uncontrolled anger
– Sleep disturbances (too much or too little)
– Decline in work or school performance
– Feeling like a burden
– Loss of interest in activities
– Expressions of purposelessness
Risk Factors:
– Previous suicide attempts
– Mental illness (especially untreated)
– Chronic pain or illness
– Substance use disorder
– Recent loss (job, relationship, loved one)
– Trauma or abuse history
– Easy access to lethal means
– Social isolation
– Family history of suicide
What You Can Do:
– Ask directly: “Are you thinking about suicide?”
– Listen with empathy and without judgment
– Encourage professional help or contact a crisis service
– Do not leave the person alone if they seem like they are in danger
Possible creative interventions at the St. Johns Bridge:
- Ceramic tiles embedded in the sidewalk that give hope with such statements as: “I almost jumped and I’m so glad I didn’t”; “This moment will pass, trust me.”; “Love yourself and your ability to overcome this.”; or “You’re never alone.”
- Posters adorning the guard rails with artwork featuring nature signs and suicide prevention helplines.
- Signs at the entrance to the bridge with expressions of caring by community members.
- Emergency phone with the number of a hotline on it.
Helplines:
- https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 988 (formerly 1-800-273-8255) provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress, prevention and crisis resources for you or your loved ones, and best practices for professionals. Telephone and online chat available.
- https://calltosafety.org A Call to Safety advocate can connect you with resources through the crisis line, or you can explore some Portland Metro resources below. Learn more about domestic and sexual violence, stalking, and sex work on our site.
- https://oregonyouthline.org For teens, they can call, text, chat and during certain hours can talk to peer support.
- https://www.crisistextline.org Crisis Text Line, text HOME to 741741.
Personal account is by an anonymous suicide survivor. Dr. Neil Weiner contributed the followup information including warning signs and possible St. Johns Bridge interventions. Barbara Quinn wrote the introduction to the story.