Our quirky old clock

The library is always quiet in the morning. We get there early, to check in books from the drops, to start up the computers, to put out the daily newspapers, to do all the librarian duties before the day begins.

One morning this past fall, like many mornings before we unlocked the doors, Jo and I were chatting at the circulation desk. Jo has lots of grandkids and interesting stories. I like to listen and laugh and learn and we have such good talks to start the day.

Maybe it was the first chime that stopped us both, mid-sentence, but probably it was the second or third. We don’t really recall, but our splendid old grandfather clock that has been in the library as long as anyone remembers started to chime the hour! The clock that was carefully moved from East Main to West Washington 12 years ago chimed! Eight chimes for eight o’clock.

Now, you might say, well, why wouldn’t it chime? Isn’t that what grandfather clocks are meant to do? Isn’t chiming basically their job besides keeping time? Yes, that is true but the thing is, our WPL grandfather clock had stopped chiming years ago.

Many of us can remember it chiming at East Main, but even after a repairman tried to fix it the clock could not, would not chime again in the current building. “It is old,” he said, “and difficult to fix.”

We all adjusted and accepted this fact. Twice a week Jenisa faithfully takes the vintage key to unlock the clock cabinet. She inserts the winding crank into the winding slot and delicately cranks the weights up to keep the pendulum powered for the week. Linda has taught her well, to take extra special care of the clock, as she did for many years. Every day the pendulum does its tick-tock, tick-tock to a library beat and keeps time pretty well. “It is old,” we say, “and difficult to fix.”

This spontaneous chiming, with no prompting from us seemed, a miracle. We thought this clock could not, would not chime. Jo, however, with her many years of librarian wisdom, said “well, I think it is Cary Ann’s mom”, an ethereal “hello” to welcome our Cary Ann back to Washington as our Library Director.

Cary Ann’s mom, you see, loved the Washington Library, and routinely took Cary Ann to the library when she was a kid to check out books, to visit the king-sized globe, to listen to the grandfather clock. They were a library-loving family and the sudden chiming of the clock occurred suspiciously and simultaneously with Cary Ann’s return to town. Suspicious serendipity.

I called our clock repairman a few days after the chiming began to report this voluntary tolling and asked him how it could be so. He laughed and said, “It is a fluke with a capital ‘F’.” I am sure he thought that it wouldn’t last, that our chiming was merely a spring sprung, a bit broke, a cog caught. And yet, every day the chiming continues.

The days are slowly turning to winter. Tammy counts the chimes every day as the hours come around. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven... yep, eleven o’clock. Wait, it is only nine o’clock. Even though we have tried to follow the repairman’s directions to reset the time, our quirky old clock wants to chime two hours ahead of time. Ileia and our Pages just laugh when we talk about it.

We have decided we really don’t care if the tolls are correct. Each day the hours come around and the chiming starts. It is old. It is difficult to fix. But then, perhaps it was never really broken. Perhaps it could chime and it would chime. And we should simply listen.