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| This is a poem written by Tim Shepherd,
which she delivered at our 2007 worship in the park service.
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Listen my children, and you will hear
The toll of a bell that still rings clear.
In the early Summer of '84,
No man is alive to tell you for
One hundred and twenty three years have passed
Since that historical day when this tale was cast.
The story began in '83
When a faithful twelve met to see
If a church could survive in Sehome's town.
It grew, then moved farther down
Close to the mills nearer the shore,
Where a new Tabernacle could house more.
Meanwhile, a group of ladies in the east
Thought Philadelphia, at the very least,
Could send a bell to celebrate
This newest church's future fate.
Six hundred pounds and tuned in G,
A bronze creation from Meneely Foundry.
From New York the bell traveled by ship
Down the Atlantic, around the tip
Of South America, through Magellan's Strait,
To San Francisco for a short wait.
Then up the coast of Puget Sound,
Three months at sea, 'til its home was found.
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It arrived just in time for
the dedication,
With oxen, men, and determination,
And dragged through the mud of Whatcom's road.
The new belfry tower would protect this load.
It came with a message on its side,
"Holiness Unto The Lord" was inscribed.
The county's first church bell was heard
By folks who came to learn God's word,
And it called for volunteers to come
When fire or tragedy threatened business or home.
It announced the beginning of electric power,
A President's death, and our statehood's hour.
And from '93 to '97,
Like a tolling voice sent from heaven,
It signaled that soup each noon was served.
In a national Depression, everyone conserved.
Then the stock market crashed and the Gold Rush came.
The church chose to move and change its name.
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In the early Fall of 1903,
With the bell hanging in the new belfry,
The First Congregational Church's doors
Were open for worship with sloping floors,
A choir, pipe organ, and theatre seating,
Sunday School, bulletins, and a furnace for heating.
But one thing was missing from this site,
Concrete in the basement to seal things tight.
The rats and mice enjoyed the soil
And dampness, so they stayed to toil.
While the choir sang these newest members
Ran up the bell rope to the steeple timbers.
Then the wood plank walks on the city's street,
And the trestle that brought the folks to meet,
Began to fail like the church's plumbing,
And the trolley on the tracks quit coming.
Though many changes in 35 years,
Still the bell brought smiles and tears.
It rang to announce a celebration -
Sehome, Whatcom, Fairhaven's consolidation.
And a prayer when America's troops went to war
In a world we'd never experienced before.
Then suddenly, the bell hung alone,
The organ in storage, parishioners gone
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Up the hill to the Cornwall
site.
A new church building to make things right.
But for six more years members were bound
To pull the rope and let the bell's sound
Announce to all what others knew,
Like Pearl Harbor and World War II.
The bell was moved in '41.
Sat on the porch, 'til the work was done,
And the steeple was ready in '44.
A bell in the belfry of a church once more.
It tolled for victory in Manila Bay,
And reminded the town of Armistice Day,
The signing of the UN Charter,
And every Sunday, the worship starter.
It rang on Christmas and New Year's Eve,
Fourth of July, the Centennial of '83.
The bell came down for another short while,
A leaking roof from the cupola style.
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But still it rang out loud and clear,
Sitting in the narthex for many a year.
As people hit the bell by hand
To tell of hostages in Iran.
And at its base gathered food to feed
A hungry community still in need.
The church remodeled, a need to expand.
A new steeple added that was grand.
And on February 11, 2003,
This historical bell for all to see
Was lifted with honor and expectation,
As a call to worship for the next generation.
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-Tim Shepherd |
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