Ringing the Commencement bell has its ups and downs

"You can fly like Mary Poppins up there," one bell-ringer says.

by Kristen Cole

One of the most coveted posts during Commencement Weekend is not on any stage and becomes available only through a retirement.

Each May, five members of the Facilities Management staff beckon graduating seniors to ceremonies at the First Baptist Church in America by ringing the church bell. They take turns pulling a rope that swings the 2,700-pound bell, switching off every three or four minutes because of the strain.

Theirs are the faces that greet the graduating seniors as the students round the stairs to sit in the balcony - first for the Baccalaureate service and then for Monday's undergraduate service.

"It's quiet and then you start to see the students' faces as they're coming up the stairs," said Antonio Alves, who has rung the bell eight of his 17 years at Brown. "They're happy, and their eyes are all big, and they're cheering and clapping."

Although Alves sees the students on campus every workday, their faces are "not like this."

Since 1850, when the bell was removed from the church to be recast, it has hung in the steeple. The weather cleans it; church staff maintains the bearings and the oak wheel supporting its heft.

Nowadays the bell is set in motion for three minutes before the weekly Sunday service at the First Baptist Church in America. It is a privilege typically reserved for youngsters who are especially well behaved.

But in the days before the advent of clocks, the bell gave residents the time of day. The City of Providence paid a church sexton to ring the bell daily at 6 a.m., noon and 6 p.m., said Jim Wynn, chairman of the property.

Brown's Facilities Management crew begins ringing the bell when they receive a phone call that the procession has stepped off from the College Green, and the crew does not stop until the last student is seated in the First Baptist Church in America.

With gloved hands, one crew member at a time grabs the thick white rope descending from a hole in the ceiling and pulls over and over again. Without the gloves, the movement of the rope would burn their hands.

Some technique is required. For the uninitiated, it is easy to land on the floor when the resistance from the weight of the bell disappears at one point during its swing. On the other hand, if a person reaches too high up the rope, the bell lifts them off their feet during the swing, leaving the person dangling.

Custodian Ramon Taveras has perfected the art of being hoisted about a foot off the ground - not too high to lose his grip or the rhythm of pulling.

"You can fly like Mary Poppins up there," said Wynn.

Cautioned against allowing the students to try a hand at ringing the bell for fear they will get hurt, the Facilities Management crew only occasionally is cajoled into letting a student pull the rope.

"They all want to try," said Lenny Pereira, head building custodian, who has 18 years of experience ringing the bell. "They are so curious because they want to see how it feels."

This year, Class of 2004 graduates Ellen Darling and Zachary Ginsberg received the privilege of pulling the rope. To applause of the classmates who surrounded them, the two grabbed on and pulled; Darling landed on the floor.

Still smiling after rising to her feet, Darling said, "It's taken me seven years to get here."

This year, the Facilities Management bell-ringers initiated a new member into their crew. Patrick Donahue was the rookie. Donahue joins a group whose cumulative bell-ringing experience totals more than four decades.

On the morning of the Baccalaureate service, Donahue imitated the style of Ebenezer Sowah, who pulled the rope, then loosened his grip just enough to allow the rope to easily slip through before the next pull.

Looking at the sea of heads flowing into the church beneath the window, Donahue smiled and said, "You don't see them much happier than that."