At least nine people stood atop the Aurora Bridge last year where they contemplated ending their lives.

No one knows how long it took to decide, nor what their last thoughts were. But eventually, they were each desperate enough to heave themselves off the bridge where they fell more than 100 feet to their deaths.

On average, someone attempts suicide by jumping from the Aurora Bridge every three months, about four per year. The bridge has been the site of 40 suicides since 1995.

The aftermath of these deaths is largely unseen. People mourn the untimely death of friends and loved ones in silence and in private. But the tragedies are affecting more than just the bereaved.

The recent increase in the number of suicides has prompted concern from people living and working below the bridge in the Fremont neighborhood. Bodies falling from the bridge have put people at risk of physical and emotional harm, said Greg Hirakawa, communications director for the Seattle Department of Transportation.

Bodies have fallen onto the Adobe Systems Inc. parking lot more than once.

"Unfortunately (witnessing suicide) has become a part of living and working under the bridge," Hirakawa said.

Only about one-third of the bridge sits above water, so most bodies hit solid ground or something else.

Construction crews working on the Fremont Bridge witnessed one suicide last year. Another falling body struck a moving vehicle. The driver wasn't harmed, except for the psychological damage they suffered.

Another fell through the roof of a houseboat.

It's become an officer safety issue as well, said Hirakawa. Sometimes officers have to fish bodies out of chilly Ship Canal waters. Other times they must physically restrain people.

It's become enough of a problem to prompt a new project that partners the state and city transportation departments with mental health agencies to dissuade people from ending their lives off the Aurora Bridge.

In December the city installed four suicide-crisis call boxes on the bridge along with signs reading, "Suicidal? 24 hour crisis line: (206) 461-3222." The phones connect people directly to the Crisis Clinic of Seattle/King County or 911.

"Our policy is one (suicide) is too many," said Hirakawa. "We know that's probably impossible, but we want to get as many as we can."

But it will be difficult to know if the signs and phones will have any effect, said Sue Eastgard, director of the Youth Suicide Prevention Program that consulted with the city on the project.

"It's very hard to count preventative deaths," Eastgard said. "We just don't know how to count prevention yet."

Similar deterrence programs have yielded mixed results across the country, she said.

"The goal is to make sure someone knows there's someone on the other side of that telephone and that the city of Seattle cares - collectively," said Hirakawa.

In most cases, it won't be known whether people are even calling from the bridge or whether the conversation with a counselor prevented suicide, said Don Kuch, clinical director of the Crisis Clinic.

"It's really about being heard - a connection, a real human connection with another person," said Kuch. "But there are differences in each and every case."

Since calls are kept confidential and anonymous, clinic workers almost never get to hear "the end of the story," as Kuch puts it. It's one of the hardest things about working at the clinic, he said.

The problem has existed for decades.

The Aurora Bridge is 2,955 feet long, just more than a half-mile. The steel structure is 70-feet wide and at its highest point sits 167 feet above Lake Union.

Though other Seattle bridges are used in suicide attempts, most choose the Aurora Bridge. That's because of its convenient pedestrians access, said Hirakawa. Pedestrian paths line both sides of the massive structure.

Also, "you can be there in relative obscurity," said Hirakawa. "No one can really see you."

The city and state are looking at other prevention measures but many pose significant engineering and political challenges. Built in 1931, the Aurora Bridge is a national historic landmark and any aesthetic changes must comply with federal and state historic preservation laws.

"We are always looking at structural modifications, but there are many complexities surrounding that," Hirakawa said. "We really have to manage those changes carefully."

However, additional options like netting and fencing are being researched, said Pat Moylan maintenance and operations manager for the Washington State Department of Transportation.

If a fence were tall enough, it could make it more difficult for people to get outside of the bridge's railing, Moylan said.

The state has estimated that a 10-foot high fence could be effective. But a fence that high could interfere with structural inspections of the bridge, which occur every two years.

Those kinds of changes to the bridge might prevent special department of transportation trucks, called Under Bridge Inspection Trucks, to reach difficult areas to inspect and perform repairs.

There's also a substantial cost.

"There's a limited amount of money in transportation," Moylan said. "We have to carefully examine whether money spent somewhere else could save more lives."

If barriers are installed, the structural integrity of the bridge, such as whether or not it could withstand an earthquake or a windstorm, must be considered.

But ultimately, the larger goal of suicide deterrence will be the hardest to measure, said Eastgard.

Eastgard, who works in schools to educate teachers and parents about the warning signs of suicidal youth, said the most important thing is to never ignore someone who talks about death or suicide.

Often, people don't realize they are suffering from depression, one of the leading causes of suicide. In many cases, it's up to friends and family to recognize the symptoms and get them help, said Eastgard.

If someone suspects a friend or loved one is contemplating suicide there are specific steps they should take. Show them you care about them, ask them directly if they are feeling suicidal and get them help.

"Suicide is not about wanting to die, it's about wanting to end pain," Eastgard said. "They just can't endure how badly they feel anymore."

Rebekah Schilperoort can be reached at rebekahs@ballardnewstribune.com