Ian\u2019s inspiration opened the floodgates \u2013 finding names identified the districts where death certificates had been issued. Searching the relevant districts, including St Giles ward where Edinburgh Royal Infirmary was based, produced scores of names and how and where they had died. \u201cIt was like being on a roller coaster,\u201d says Sheila. During the six months of research, the mystery of \u2018Anderson\u2019 was finally solved. The birth name of the 30-year-old rigger from Germany who fell 200ft to his death, fatally fracturing his skull, was Eugen Julius Weise. Why he adopted the alias, John Anderson, may never be known.<\/p>\n

The names were fed back to the briggers team who scoured the national and local press, transcribing relevant information verbatim onto a master list. It included not only accidents and deaths, but also details of town life from water shortages\u00a0to the scandalous behaviour of the local parish minister. They created a spreadsheet of possible deaths that covered a whole wall in the History Group\u2019s meeting room. At one time there were well over 100 names.<\/p>\n

Then the task of checking them began. Even matching names quoted by different sources required significant detective work. In an era of hand-written records, human error was all too easy, even if the clerk was conscientious. Some of the itinerant caisson workers constructing the bridge\u2019s underwater foundations, like Thomas Liberale, possibly did\u00a0not speak English. It was all too tempting to add his name\u00a0to the list, despite the cause of death being left blank. Given\u00a0the time of death at 5.40pm, the Italian diver may have died\u00a0of caisson disease (the bends), coming up to the surface too quickly at the end of his shift. The team resisted the temptation, relying on proven fact rather than supposition\u00a0in adding names to their list.<\/p>\n

To include or not to include? The team decided to extend the list to men who had died after the Sick and Accident Club was wound up at the end of 1889, but before bridge maintenance began. This added another seven names to the list including George Fowler. Thanks to advances in medical knowledge, we can now be sure that the ex-soldier whose death certificate of 1892 recorded \u201csupposed heart disease\u201d, in fact died of the bends. He had spent seven years as a brigger, two\u00a0of which as a caisson worker. Although he managed to work\u00a0on despite complaining of aches and pains, he was in such\u00a0poor physical and emotional shape by spring of 1890, that he refused to go to the workmen\u2019s dinner after the official opening.<\/p>\n

His son left a note explaining why. \u201cHe was very tired of that bridge and didn\u2019t care if he ever saw it again. He had had enough.\u201d That note passed down the generations. Frank recalls his excitement on opening an email from a Jim Magnuson. \u201cIt turned out that he was George\u2019s great grandson, now living\u00a0in the States. He traced our research through a website and\u00a0got in touch. His family still talks about \u2018The George Fowler Memorial Bridge\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n

After much heart-searching, the team closed the list at\u00a073 confirmed deaths, at least until more concrete evidence emerged of other possible casualties on their shortlist. As a member of the Forth Bridge Memorial Committee as well as of the research team, Len was proud to hand over the list of names. \u201cAt last we could move on to the next phase of raising funds for the memorial now we had names to put on it. It was a long haul but good fun along the way, meeting regularly in a local hotel to pore over our latest findings and argue the toss about who to include or exclude.\u201d<\/p>\n