Read Online America's Prophet by Bruce Feiler - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bruce Feiler
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arches open to the air. Some wasps had built a nest inside the bell. The Centennial Bell, dating from 1876, is considerably larger than its ancestor, weighing thirteen thousand pounds in honor of the thirteen colonies. Its metal is a mixture of American and British cannonballs from Saratoga and Union and Confederate cannonballs from Gettysburg. Around its lip is the inscription PROCLAIM LIBERTY THROUGHOUT ALL THE LAND UNTO ALL THE INHABITANTS THEREOF .
After the oven of the tower, the open air of the cupola felt freeing. The ground floor of this building may have given birth to the prose of America, but this was a place of song. I could see all the way down the expanse of Independence Mall, a beautification begun in the 1950s, and up the Delaware River, where, thirty-nine miles upstream, Washington crossed on Christmas night in 1776. For the first time on my climb, I felt proud. I rested my hand on the lip of the bell, which felt cool and vibrated with the slightest touch. I was so accustomed to thinking of the Liberty Bell in its climate-controlled museum across the street, I was jolted to remember that the bell had lived for decades on top of this building.
Karie Diethorn joined me in the cupola. For a second her academic mien melted away. She smiled ruefully. I asked her if she had ever experienced a personal moment with the bell.
“I’m always awestruck with how people react to it,” she said. “Once we did a military swear-in. The navy brought sailors and theytook their oaths in front of the Liberty Bell. It was extremely moving. They committed themselves to serving their country in front of one of its greatest icons. To them, the Liberty Bell embodied all the sacrifices that came before them. I didn’t expect to be as overwhelmed as I was.”
“So why do you think people need that object?”
“I think it symbolizes hope. In the 1950s a lot of people looked at the Liberty Bell and thought about America as the greatest country in the world. Now, we still see the patriotic story, but we also see the incredible tragic events of our history. The irony of slavery and liberty coexisting in our nation. The Liberty Bell embodies all of those ideas. It’s a very flexible symbol. I think that’s why people relate to it.
“Also, the message is very poignant,” she continued. “That inherent in our history is tragedy and victory simultaneously. From slavery comes freedom. But freedom is easily lost and can become slavery again. To me, it’s like looking down a long hallway, and the Leviticus verse resounds throughout that hallway for whatever period you’re in.”
“I love how it comes back to sound.”
“Hearing is our most fundamental sense,” Diethorn said. “Even a deaf person can feel vibration. And it’s the same with this place. The bell is the most important part of this otherwise public building. It’s the universal part. It sings the Declaration of Independence. The smallest part of the building turns out to have the biggest voice.”
IF THE CUPOLA atop Independence Hall is one of Philadelphia’s most glamorous spots, the basement of the Christ Church parish house is surely one of its dingiest. It’s cramped, poorly lit, and overflowing with books, the kind of room where some Dickensian waifwould be locked away during his childhood. The rector of the church took me into that morass and showed me one of the least known artifacts of July 4, 1776, and one of the most stirring relics I’d ever held.
Christ Church was always something of a twin of Independence Hall. The two were built within months of each other, in the same formal Georgian style. When its own bell tower was completed in 1754, Christ Church was the tallest building in the colonies, a distinction it held until 1810, the longest any structure has enjoyed that honor in American history. The front door was lorded over by a three-foot-high relief of Charles II, with garlands and a toga in the manner of Julius Caesar, yet George
After the oven of the tower, the open air of the cupola felt freeing. The ground floor of this building may have given birth to the prose of America, but this was a place of song. I could see all the way down the expanse of Independence Mall, a beautification begun in the 1950s, and up the Delaware River, where, thirty-nine miles upstream, Washington crossed on Christmas night in 1776. For the first time on my climb, I felt proud. I rested my hand on the lip of the bell, which felt cool and vibrated with the slightest touch. I was so accustomed to thinking of the Liberty Bell in its climate-controlled museum across the street, I was jolted to remember that the bell had lived for decades on top of this building.
Karie Diethorn joined me in the cupola. For a second her academic mien melted away. She smiled ruefully. I asked her if she had ever experienced a personal moment with the bell.
“I’m always awestruck with how people react to it,” she said. “Once we did a military swear-in. The navy brought sailors and theytook their oaths in front of the Liberty Bell. It was extremely moving. They committed themselves to serving their country in front of one of its greatest icons. To them, the Liberty Bell embodied all the sacrifices that came before them. I didn’t expect to be as overwhelmed as I was.”
“So why do you think people need that object?”
“I think it symbolizes hope. In the 1950s a lot of people looked at the Liberty Bell and thought about America as the greatest country in the world. Now, we still see the patriotic story, but we also see the incredible tragic events of our history. The irony of slavery and liberty coexisting in our nation. The Liberty Bell embodies all of those ideas. It’s a very flexible symbol. I think that’s why people relate to it.
“Also, the message is very poignant,” she continued. “That inherent in our history is tragedy and victory simultaneously. From slavery comes freedom. But freedom is easily lost and can become slavery again. To me, it’s like looking down a long hallway, and the Leviticus verse resounds throughout that hallway for whatever period you’re in.”
“I love how it comes back to sound.”
“Hearing is our most fundamental sense,” Diethorn said. “Even a deaf person can feel vibration. And it’s the same with this place. The bell is the most important part of this otherwise public building. It’s the universal part. It sings the Declaration of Independence. The smallest part of the building turns out to have the biggest voice.”
IF THE CUPOLA atop Independence Hall is one of Philadelphia’s most glamorous spots, the basement of the Christ Church parish house is surely one of its dingiest. It’s cramped, poorly lit, and overflowing with books, the kind of room where some Dickensian waifwould be locked away during his childhood. The rector of the church took me into that morass and showed me one of the least known artifacts of July 4, 1776, and one of the most stirring relics I’d ever held.
Christ Church was always something of a twin of Independence Hall. The two were built within months of each other, in the same formal Georgian style. When its own bell tower was completed in 1754, Christ Church was the tallest building in the colonies, a distinction it held until 1810, the longest any structure has enjoyed that honor in American history. The front door was lorded over by a three-foot-high relief of Charles II, with garlands and a toga in the manner of Julius Caesar, yet George
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