Clear as a Bell and Other Four Letter Words

I heard Paul Revere’s bell on New Year’s Eve, and I looked up to see if I could spy the bell ringer, but my eyes could only see Old Glory waving from the top of Bath’s City Hall. It was a beautiful day to hear the sweet sound of liberty. The Paul Revere & Son foundry in Massachusetts cast 398 bells from 1792 to 1828 and 23 of those bells can still be found in Maine, but only four of the 23 were cast before Paul Revere died in 1818. Bath’s historic bell was cast in Boston in 1802, which makes it one of the four, a valuable part of a powerful American legend.

In a 2005 commencement speech at Vassar College, Tom Hanks, a living American icon, spoke poetically about our planet’s need for HELP and HOPE, both four letter words. I read his speech in The New York Times, and I quote it whenever I feel the need for crazy optimism and unflinching courage: “Take 100 musicians in a depressed port city in Northern England, choose John, Paul, George, and Ringo and you have Hey Jude. Take a hundred computer geeks in Redmond, Washington, send 96 of them home, and the remainder is called Microsoft.” College graduations usually remind us of the immense change that can occur over a four-year period of time, and Tom Hanks was painfully aware of the dramatic change that molded the Class of 2005. This was the class that came of age in the aftermath of 9/11. A consummate performer, Hanks opened his remarks by introducing a computer-generated solution to gridlock on Southern California freeways: remove four out of every 100 cars and the freeways will flow again. Hanks suggested we call this change “The Power of Four.”

As fate and Bath would have it, there is a connection between Tom Hanks and Paul Revere. It’s the power of four. There are four bells in Maine that were made by Paul Revere, the Boston silversmith who took a midnight ride in 1775 to alert the Minute Men that the British were coming, and I believe his bells still send a message of hope. The Revere bell in Bath is especially unique because it is the only one of the four that is found in the belfry of a city hall, not a church. One Revere bell is at the Christ Church of Gardiner, another is at the First Parish Unitarian Church in Kennebunk, and a third is at Saint Patrick’s Catholic Church in Damariscotta Mills. The fourth bell, the bell in Bath, took the road less traveled and that made all the difference!  

I believe Bath's bell is celebrated more because Maine’s Cool Little City reveres history more than most communities. Bells in America have always symbolized freedom, and The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere will always be a call for courage under fire. Ironically, in 1803, Bath’s bell chimed from the spire of the North Church on the northeast corner of High and Centre, not unlike the Old North Church depicted in Longfellow’s poem. When the congregation of the North Church built its Winter Street Church, the bell was moved to the Old Town Hall at the northeast corner of Centre and Water, and in 1929, one of the darkest years in American history, Paul Revere’s bell found its forever home at the top of the Davenport Memorial City Hall. Nowadays, it only rings on special occasions, and the person who rings it must be equally important.

On December 31, 2014, Leslie Trundy, a beloved guidance counselor at Morse High School, and Bath’s Person of the Year, did the honors. She rang in the New Year at precisely 12:00 p.m., not midnight. It’s a Bath thing, and it works well because everyone can gather at the Hallet’s Clock and sing “Auld Lang Syne." On that cold, winter’s day, Leslie was wearing a navy blue, U.S.A. Olympic beret made by Roots. I noticed her hat because we left City Hall together, and as we walked home, we shared some stories about our children and our running, two great joys we have in common. We walked fast and said goodbye too soon. On parting, I couldn’t possibly imagine how clearly I would remember her hat. A beret is so classically French that I was surprised when team U.S.A. chose it for the Winter Olympics a few years ago, but then a beret also suggests a bold spirit. 

"The Thinker" behind a bench at the Rodin Museum

Sadly, the reason I remember Leslie's navy blue beret so well is because one week later, on January 7, 2015, there was a terrorist attack in Paris at the offices of Charlie Hebdo, and a few days after that more lives were lost at a nearby kosher market. Chiming bells inspire us; blaring sirens frighten us. The sirens of Paris in January remind us that life and liberty is indeed fragile. As human beings, we all feel the terror of hate, and we all hope for peace. At night, when I walk my dog along Washington Street, I hear a church bell chime, and invariably at that moment I look up to see the stars and feel the freedom of the hour. It is simply beautiful.

Two chairs talking at the Jardin du Luxembourg

Truth be told, there’s a French connection in Bath. Both cities share a love of art, history, church bells and pretty places to sit and enjoy it all. My husband and I visited Paris for the first time last spring, and we sat in gardens; we rested near fountains, we dreamed in the shadow of breathtaking statues and we heard the bells of Notre Dame. In a similar way, people who work in Bath often eat lunch on pretty park benches beside people visiting Bath for the first time. Honeymooners staying at the local inns can French kiss on a number of secluded, or not so secluded, benches! And of course, there are many boats along the Kennebec that seat two or four or eight. There are so many places to relax and enjoy the river views and gardens. Whether you are sitting by the Seine River in Paris or the Kennebec River in Bath, you are free to read, draw, write poetry, play the guitar, talk with a friend, solve a problem, hope, pray and fall in love.

Add one more Parisian bench to make "the power of four"

The bell of Bath is historically significant because of the silversmith who made it, Paul Revere. In turn, Paul Revere is an American legend because of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, the lyrical poet from Portland, Maine who wrote The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere after climbing the steps of the Old North Church “to the chime of bells” on April 5, 1860. According to the book cover of my treasured edition of the poem, this lone visit to the belfry of a church in Boston inspired one of the greatest historical poems in the American language. Many believe Longfellow, a graduate of Bowdoin College in Brunswick, Maine and a professor of French and Spanish at Harvard University, wrote the poem as a call to arms on the eve of the American Civil War. Historians may point out the inaccuracies of Longfellow’s account of that fateful night in 1775, but certainly it is the poetry of his words that make the event so unforgettable. Over 150 years after its publication, the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere still calls us to be courageous, and that is proof positive that art is more powerful than politics! Let freedom ring! Hope is everywhere!

Two sweethearts kicking back on the Kennebec!

Over the River and Into the Woods

Thorne Head Preserve

On Christmas day, 2014, Disney released its musical fantasy, Into the Woods. Four days later, after all of our children left Bath to return to their jobs in Boston and New York City, Joe and I went to the movies to escape our quiet house. The music and lyrics of Stephen Sondheim’s light opera certainly spoke to me that Monday night under a silvery crescent moon:

How do you say to your child in the night, Nothing’s all black, but nothing’s all white?...
Careful the tale you tell.
That is the spell.
Children will listen... 
How do you say to your child in flight,
Don’t slip away, and I won’t hold so tight?

Letting go of our children is probably the hardest step forward we will ever take, but wise men know that forward is the best way to go.

As a mother of three, I strongly agree with Sondheim’s brilliant metaphor, “Children are wishes.” Our home in Maine, located between the Kennebec River and the Thorne Head Preserve, welcomed six grown-up children (love grows!) for the holidays. For us, Bath Time often feels like a dream. In December, all around the City of Ships, we saw families gathering together: mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, grandmas and grandpas. I believe that playful mix of people is Disney-like magic in real time! The talented and famous cast of Into the Woods, including Meryl Streep, Emily Blunt, James Corden and Anna Kendrick, expressed in music our need to connect generations, to form families, to build communities, and to live for love. This holiday season I witnessed the good people of Bath singing the same song in their own unique way! When Meryl Streep’s “once beautiful witch” sings to Rapunzel, “Stay a child, while you can be a child with me.” I understand too well her maternal desire to hold on to the child in her arms. The lyrics in the closing song of Sondheim’s blended fairy tale, however, are a bit unnerving: “Careful the things you say, children will listen.” That said, I must agree with Sondheim. Raising children is a serious business, and wishes do not come free. In the theater, as the movie version of  Into the Woods came to an end, the audience, young and old alike, applauded. It’s rare to hear applause in a movie theater, but clearly Into the Woods is casting its spell. The music and lyrics of Stephen Sondheim stir our collective soul. The sweet, but haunting, refrain, “Children will listen,” is repeating in my head even now, and I will try to be careful as I tell my stories.

Our youngest son, Mark, arrived in Bath on Monday, December 22nd, just in time for the big Sing! at the Chocolate Church Arts Center. Sounds delicious, right? Well, this 38^th annual sing-along proved to be sweeter than a plate of nine whoopie pies! In fact, my favorite part of the evening was the narration with real life “props” of the children’s book Twelve Maine Christmas Days, written by Wendy Ulmer, an author from Arrowsic, and illustrated by Sandy Crabtree, an artist from Bath. In place of five golden rings, the inimitable Ms. Marco, a leading lady in the troupe, displayed five majestic moose, Maine's official state animal. Two wooden oars (ship building in Maine began in 1607) and a dark-green wild pine tree were also presented with great gusto! By the time the narrators introduced eleven blueberries followed by twelve chickadees, the audience was hooting! Joe, in his infinite wisdom, purchased this new Christmas classic last November, so I know for a fact that the twelve chickadees are pictured in the book at Bath’s gazebo in Library Park! Without a doubt, Wendy Ulmer and Sandy Crabtree tell a beautiful tale, and children will listen!

To top off our first Sing! Joe and I won a gigantic, red poinsettia, one of eight given away that

evening. As fate and Bath would have it, we walked to the Chocolate Church that night, and after winning the poinsettia we feared the walk home in the rain would be difficult. Well, wishes that come true may not be free, but a grown-up son can help his parents carry a huge poinsettia up the hill and one mile north, and he did! Little Red Riding Hood was right when she sang, “Stick to the path” as she carried a basket to her grandmother’s house. Mark listened! Later, we drove to Byrnes' Irish Pub and listened to half a dozen Irish fiddlers play some happy tunes.And in that joyful moment, Mark began to talk. When a son talks, parents should listen! This is wisdom tried and true! Joe, Mark and I had a long conversation that Monday night in late December, and the words felt like music! The mashed potato flatbread at Byrnes' Irish Pub was delicious, too!

Why is it we love to count our favorite things? I counted twelve Maine Christmas days, eleven fabulous people at our Christmas dinner, eight poinsettias all in a row, six Irish fiddlers at Byrne’s Irish Pub, five Bath friends gathering on New Year’s Eve, and one amazing band at Bath’s Freight Shed! Simply stated, saying goodbye to an old year and saying hello to a new year, requires a countdown!

Like two old (love) birds, Joe and I usually greet the New Year at home in our warm nest, but before the final hour of 2014 we decided to venture out to the Freight Shed with a few friends and sway to the music of Cilantro under twinkling lights. We also enjoyed Henry & Marty’s  brisket and organic mashed potatoes in a ceramic cup that was just the right size and just the right flavor for a rustic party! (In case you're counting, mashed potatoes have been mentioned twice in this tale. It's an Irish blessing!) Before long, Joe grabbed my hand, not to dance, but rather to sneak out to the work shed in back to view a replica of Maine’s first ship, the Virginia, which is being built by students and volunteer craftsman. One of the skilled and generous volunteers was present to tell us about the the ship's authentic design. The Virginia Project clearly showcases the ingenuity and artistry of Bath, and it reflects a buoyant and courageous spirit worth emulating.

I spied the troll at the stern of the Virginia with an impish grin and a twinkle in the eye. Like the beginning of a fairy tale, I imagined young boys going to sea for the first time and returning years later as men, and I remembered what my father told me, “Your children are only loaned to you. They are not yours to keep.” My father, like the boys of Bath, went to sea at an early age. He became a great storyteller, and I listened to all of his stories. At the end of Into the Woods, as the baker cradles his newborn son, the baker’s wife gently says, “Tell him what you know.” I believe our stories do cast a spell. They are  the magic seeds, or beans, that take root and grow into a beautiful pear tree, or a giant beanstalk, or a loving family!   

The Kennebec River on Christmas Day 2014