The Town Clock Bell is Back

What luck. Good luck, that is. It just so happened that the town clock bell was re-installed on a day that I was in town; Friday morning, April 29, 2011, to be precise. It was fantastic to witness, too. The entire event, beginning with the perfect almost-May morning (following a few days of really nasty weather), to seeing some of the usual local suspects - on hand to photograph, ogle, admire, support, and report on this somewhat historic occurrence - to the precision with which the team raised the bell into the tower, was quite memorable. I even found the courage to climb up to the bell tower, something I had not done since I was a kid.

Related Edgartown News post, here

More photos, here. 





Greg Blaine, the bell's restoration man.





The crane approaches.






Christian Thornton and daughter.





Greg has unwrapped the bell, revealing shiny, newly-polished brass.














John Anderson was in charge of restoring the bell's large rope-pulley wheel.





A small crowd gathers.





The bell rope's newly restored rope-pulley wheel.






Greg and Steve Ewing talk shop.



















Readying the crane.











Father Nagle's porch offered a fine vantage point.























The bell will be carried aloft within this box and carefully inserted into the belfry.






Doris Ward
























Up, up, and away.





Almost home...





...closer...





Ah...












Dicky Brown




Gears






Home again.








Yours Truly, by Greg Blaine.


Photo by Greg Blaine.






Greg Blaine couldn't be more pleased with the results of this project, or prouder to have been a part of it. Well done, Greg. I'm sure Greg's dad, the late Jim Blaine, who passed down his metal-working skills to Greg, is smiling down on him.






The view down Main Street from the bell tower, to the court house, town hall, and beyond to the harbor.











Done.

Re-installing Edgartown's Town Clock Bell from Sara Piazza on Vimeo.

A Pool of Daffodils

A poem by Alison Boylston Piazza.

Every winter, year after year,

We wait for signs of spring to appear,

As we struggle through wind and snow and frost.

But then, when it seems all hope is lost,

A fountain of forsythia spills

Into a pool of daffodils.

Sweetened Water Tree