Tom's father, Gordon "Bob" Bassett was also the keeper of the town clock, and I'll never forget the day when we were kids, one day while out and about palling around with Tommy, we were invited to climb the ladder up through a trap door into the tower. Wow - what a view - all the way to South Beach - and what an experience for an eight-or-so year-old. Those were the days when kids actually played outside, had free reign of the whole town, and had many adventures.
Anyway, here's what I now see from my window; so much better than a black hole.
And, a little later...(no time stamp necessary on these photos, ha ha):
There she is, in all her glory. I just love living only a block away from the town clock, seeing it from every window of my house and hearing its bell faithfully ringing the hours; a recurring melody - a primal song, really, since I grew up in this house with this bell's tone being an important part of the soundtrack of my childhood - tones that remind me that I'm home, from a-top of the building that was my grandmother's church, home of my earliest religious memories. My almost-two-year-old grandson has developed an awareness and love for this clock as well, pausing to listen when it rings and wiggling his fingers in an attempt to count the hours. Is there a better number-teaching tool for a toddler than this magnificent bell, I wonder?
Yours truly, April 29, 2011, the day the newly-restored bell was re-installed in the tower. Photo by Greg Blaine.