The bells of St. Paul’s will ring for them all
The Royal Canadian Legion is asking churches everywhere to ring their bells at sunset, 100 times, on Nov. 11
WHEN
THE WAR ENDED, the bells rang. It was Nov. 11, 1918.
A century later, across the nation, the bells will ring again. Walter Plater is ready. He is 68, and has played the bells at St. Paul’s Presbyterian downtown since he was 21.
A letter arrived at St. Paul’s a few weeks ago, and was passed directly to Plater. It was from the Royal Canadian Legion, and told of a Remembrance Day plan called Bells of Peace.
That letter explained how Canada, a country of just eight million at the time, contributed heavily to the First World War. About 424,000 Canadians served overseas. More than 60,000 were killed, another 172,000 wounded.
And the Legion is asking churches everywhere to ring their bells at sunset on Nov. 11. They would sound 100 times, five seconds between each toll.
On James Street South, at his bellringer’s station beneath Canada’s tallest stone spire, Walter Plater is
now mapping out the day.
St. Paul’s, a National Historic Site, happens to have a set of bells of the first order.
In the beginning there was just one, back in the 1850s. It served as the town bell too, to call the people of this fledgling town together. It is said that in those quiet times, the bell could be heard right to the harbour.
In November 1906, a fine set of 11 bells arrived from the Meneely & Co. foundry, West Troy, New York. They cost $5,460, and were hoisted in place with pulleys and mule power. On Sunday, Nov. 11, 1906 — a date that later became Remembrance Day — the new bells of St. Paul’s rang for the first time.
They ring out every day, from 8 a.m. to 11 p.m. Not so long ago, somebody living in a condo at the Pigott building down the street tried to have them silenced. St. Paul’s would have none of that.
“We were here first,” Plater says. Besides, the bells can’t be heard across the city anymore.
“Considering traffic these days and all the highrises,” Plater says, “I suspect it’s just a few blocks now.”
For those regular four-times-anhour Westminster-chimes time checks, the bells ring automatically. But for Sunday service, it’s all up to Plater. (Now retired from Dofasco, he takes the responsibility seriously. For a time, he commuted to his bell tower each weekend from Huntsville.) The bells are still played with the original oak levers. Plater calls them wheelbarrow handles. It is vigorous work. No light tickling of the ivories here.
Fifteen minutes before the Sunday morning service, Plater plays several hymns. He winds it up at five minutes to the hour, just as the organist takes over.
Plater, whose parents were married here, does weddings too. As the parties come up the front walk, he throws everything into it and “rings the changes.” It’s an explosion of joy.
On Remembrance Day, a Sunday this year, Plater will do his morning duties and then return for sunset. The Legion asked that churches try to involve younger members of the congregation too, and Plater has arranged for that.
He thinks he’ll start with “O Canada” and “God Save the Queen.” Then he and a dozen young assistants will start in on the 100 tolls. All of those will be done with the biggest bell. It’s made of bronze and weighs a ton. You hear it, you feel it.
Down below, the doors of St. Paul’s will be open. And if passersby should wonder why the bells call out, there will be someone at the front step to tell them about that hard-won day a hundred years ago. Plater, whose parents were married here, does weddings too. As the parties come up the front walk, he throws everything into it and “rings the changes.” It’s an explosion of joy.