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‘Happy 1 year anniversary of bridge withdrawals’

Published 1:30 am Tuesday, November 25, 2025

Stollwerck Plumbing owner J.D. Stollwerck outside of his business along 5th Street on Nov. 5, 2025 in Mukilteo, Washington. (Olivia Vanni / The Herald)
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Stollwerck Plumbing owner J.D. Stollwerck outside of his business along 5th Street on Nov. 5, 2025 in Mukilteo, Washington. (Olivia Vanni / The Herald)
Stollwerck Plumbing owner J.D. Stollwerck outside his business along Fifth Street in Mukilteo. He lives on the other side of Edgewater Bridge in Everett and has to drive the nearly 10-mile detour. (Olivia Vanni / The Herald)
Construction on Edgewater Bridge along Mukilteo Boulevard on Jan. 22, 2025. (Olivia Vanni / The Herald)

EVERET-TEO — It’s been over a year since the big breakup between Everett and Mukilteo.

What’s up with that?

Welcome to life on the edge of the Edgewater Bridge.

On a typical day, 6,000 cars crossed the 366-foot bridge linking two cities so intertwined they were nicknamed “Everet-teo” and “Mukil-rett.”

Thirteen months ago, the bridge shut down for replacement, turning commutes into odysseys and splitting families apart. The detour is a 10-mile labyrinth of Glenwood Avenue, Merrill Creek Parkway, Boeing Expressway and Mukilteo Speedway.

Nothing express or speedy about it, especially during Boeing shifts.

Plumber J.D. Stollwerck’s shop recently marked the occasion on his sign: “Happy one year anniversary of bridge withdrawals.”

Might as well laugh. If he can, anybody can.

The 1-mile hop between his Everett home and his Mukilteo shop used to take about three minutes. Now it’s closer to 30.

“One hour of my life is gone every day,” Stollwerck said.

That’s 10 full days a year spent clogged in traffic instead of unclogging drains.

“I understand it needs to happen. Once it’s done, it’s going to be fabulous,” he said. “I just want my three-minute commute back.”

Oh, baby. Don’t we all.

Everett kids headed to Mukilteo schools endure long bus rides. Dating couples can’t squeeze in quick hookups. Ferry riders lost their shortcut. Even Grandma’s house is an over-the-river, through-the-detour trek. Crossing the steep ravine by foot isn’t an option.

Those of us in Everet-teo can’t simply sprint to the waterfront Diamond Knot Brewery & Alehouse for a bacon-and-cheddar stuffed tater Knot Tot with a brown ale chaser.

When the bridge opens, that’s my first stop, worth risking a speed camera ticket on the speedway.

And when The Big One hits, the new bridge should stay put, so at least we can get to the Diamond Knot, assuming it’s still standing.

Built in 1946, the bridge was quake-vulnerable and functionally obsolete. A “knee replacement” on the 78-year-old wasn’t going to cut it. The whole thing had to come down. The $34 million project was supposed to take a year, but the closure will stretch into 2026.

Public Works spokesperson Kathleen Baxter chalked it up to “unforeseen underground obstructions” such as buried concrete and timber from a century ago.

Over in Mukil-rett, MaryJane Cavanagh and Les Nelson have a front-row view of construction. Surprisingly, they dread the finale. The cranes, trucks and dust are preferable to the roar of 6,000 cars on the road.

“I’ll take that over the noise of the constant traffic,” she said.

Nelson thinks it might be worse with the lure of a shiny new bridge.

“We never want it to open,” Cavanagh said. “Our little town is heavenly. We can walk down the street and talk to our neighbors. We can hear the water in the Sound.”

The bridge is practically in their lap.

“They took down part of the gulch,” Cavanagh said. “We now see it all. Before we were sheltered by trees.”

Also in clear view: Soundview Deli in Everett.

The bright yellow market took a direct hit from the bridge closure. Before the shutdown, the store rang up about 300 transactions daily. With traffic cut off, sales plunged 90%.

The community tried to help by buying deli goods for the food bank.

The store abruptly closed two weeks ago for unknown reasons. The neon “Open” sign still glows, but the inside is dark except for the Red Bull cooler lights. Locals are rooting for a comeback.

Stollwerck hopes his customers return once traffic resumes.

His shop is famous for its witty roadside signs, like those at the Totem Diner in Everett. Before the closure, commuters laughed, remembered the name and called when they needed a plumber.

“We usually have three trucks. Now we’re down to two,” he said. “Part of it is economics.”

Some traffic moves on four legs.

“Deer and coyotes amble down Fifth Street right in front of the shop,” said Stollwerck’s wife Christina. “They wander, pause, then continue down the road.”

On her Everett home side, kids now ride bikes freely up and down the boulevard, something they couldn’t safely do before.

“The reduction in traffic has certainly turned both sides into quiet little neighborhoods,” she said.

Edgewater Park, once a lively playground, is a fenced-off construction staging area. A new park will follow the bridge reopening.

For sisters Sharon Jensen and Victoria Postma, the bridge closure is personal.

Several months before the shutdown, Jensen moved from Kirkland to Mukilteo’s Goat Trail neighborhood to be near Postma, who lives in Everett’s Boulevard Bluffs a few miles away as the crow flies.

The jaunt now takes 20 minutes in light traffic.

“There’s no spontaneity,” Jensen said. “We can’t just go visit each other. We have to plan.”

One time they tried walking a back route. It took two and a half hours.

Recently, they stood by the “Road Closed” sign on the Everett side and looked across the gap toward Mukilteo, a football field away.

“We could play catch,” Postma joked.

They’ll have a few more months to work on their throwing arms.

Got a story for “What’s Up With That?” Hit me up at reporterbrown@gmail.com or 425-422-7598.