Virginians See Bridge Closings As Dose of Northern Hospitality

"I think that shutting Virginia off from the party is all just an old Civil War snub," Rocky Semmes wrote on a community e-mail list. "The Yankees are no quicker to forget the past than are any of the dyed-in-the-wool Rebels."

Officials said the decision had nothing to do with the Virginia's Confederate past. It didn't even have anything to do with the cultural tension between the perceived conservative Old Dominion and the lefty Free State. In fact, the idea for shutting down the bridges to personal cars came from Virginia's own Department of Transportation, local governments and the Virginia State Police.

"This was not a North-South vengeance thing or anything like that. We're not bringing out Lee's Army," said Corinne Geller, a spokeswoman for the Virginia State Police. "It's really about geography. There's a river. The only way across is a bridge. And once you cross the 14th Street Bridge, within a stoplight or two, you're going to be inside the security zone. There's nowhere for you to go."

Geller said Virginia transportation officials took one look at the bridges and imagined the worst: gridlock stretching for miles and miles and miles. "This was not an easy decision," she said. "But the fear was: If we let cars cross the bridge, then they get stuck. People could just turn off their cars and park and walk into the District. And what if one person came back at 3 p.m. and another person at 4 a.m.? No one could move. Could you imagine the backlog?"

Kaine said there was consensus among area governments, state officials and emergency officials that "private vehicles would bring the whole thing to a snarl."

But the scope of the closures took many by surprise.

"This is a one-size-fits-all solution that needs to be customized," said James C. Dinegar, president and chief executive of the Greater Washington Board of Trade. "How are health workers supposed to get around? Who will make the beds and pour the coffee? We've got to put our best foot forward for tourists, but our health is important, too."

He suggested that Metro run shuttle buses from midnight to 4 a.m. for hospitality workers and that Congress pony up $4 million so everyone can ride free on Metro to ease lines.

In coffee shops, phone conversations and Internet discussions, many Virginians spent yesterday wondering whether they could ride Segways (yes, over the bridges, not in the secure zone around the Mall), where to park their bikes (the bike valet at the Jefferson Memorial on the Tidal Basin), contemplating the money they could earn with a pedicab service or lamenting the lack of ferry service. But mostly they vented at the perceived slight.

"Don Aplin is wondering if they'll mine the harbor for Obama-day now that they've decided to close the bridges to Virginia," the Alexandria resident wrote on his Facebook page, referring to the bridge closure decision as some kind of spooky mystery out of "The X-Files."

"I knew you Virginians weren't to be trusted!" a friend shot back.

They wondered why they were being left out, especially this year, when Virginia, with its loaded past, became a key swing state, voted Democratic for the first time since Lyndon B. Johnson and helped deliver victory to Barack Obama.