by T.L. Huffman
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For Eric Corwin cranking the hand-wound Seth Thomas clock atop the Daviess County Courthouse is a labor of love.
Eric has been the clock’s custodian for going on 20 years now. Every Friday at 2 p.m. Eric climbs the 98 steps to the third floor of the courthouse.
“I could take the elevator, but I usually don’t,” he says. “It’s good exercise.”
A narrow flight of steps goes up to an unused fourth floor. Wooden stairs lead from there up to the belfry which houses the bell.
The McShane all-brass bell measures 38 inches in diameter and weighs 1,200 pounds. The date reads 1908. It was installed in 1909. A heavy black hammer is cocked and ready to strike the bell.
The windows in the belfry are open and covered with wire screening. The wire keeps the birds out, and allows the sound of the bell to carry further.
“I like to come up here and look out,” says Eric. “You can see the whole town. At night you can see an orange glow that’s coming all the way from the lights out at Landmark Manufacturing.”
The clock itself is on an even higher level. Eric climbs a ladder perched at a nearly 90 degree angle through a narrow trap door.
This uppermost part of the tower dome is where the clock sits. The winding mechanism is inside a small wooden building. The “cabin” is 8′ x 8′ x 8′ with four windows.
“This clock still runs off its original weight and cable system,” says Eric. “As best we know there’s only one other one. It’s in the Smithsonian, but it’s been motorized.”
The date on the clock reads Aug. 14, 1908. Model:1483.
One set of pulleys and weights runs the bell. There are 24 concrete weights at 50 pounds apiece. The cable of weights ride down a box-like channel through the floor. “The cable broke one time back in 1921,” says Eric. “It dropped all the way to the second floor.”
Eric inserts an arm on the bell winder. He must give it 244 cranks to bring up the 1,200 pounds of weights which are now at the very bottom, some 80 or 90 feet down.
He gives it 122 winds, half way through, then stops to catch his breath.
“Oh yeah, it’s a good work out,” he says.
He sits down on a plastic feed bucket to rest. “The tower is always hot in the summer and cold in the winter,” he says. “If it’s too hot I’ll wait until morning or night when it cools off a little.”
Once he’s given the bell a sufficient number of cranks, he inserts a different arm for the clock.
“It doesn’t take nearly as long to wind the clock as the bell,” he says. “It takes 35 cranks to wind the clock for seven days.”
Another set of pulleys and weights control the ‘tick-tocker’ on the clock. There are seven weights at 50 pounds apiece for a total of 350 pounds.
A “spider gear” sits on top of the cabin. This gear box drives all four clock faces. The gears are connected to shafts running outward to each clock.
Eric sets the time with the bank across the street. Setting the clock is a trick since it faces backwards. For Daylight Savings Time, Eric lets the clock run completely out, then re-sets it.
Eric explains how he came to be the keeper of the clock.
“Buster Gordon did it before me. I asked Buster why he went into the courthouse the same time the same day every week. He said ‘I’m winding the clock. Come up with me and I’ll show you how.’ It wasn’t too long after that Buster got sick and asked me to wind the clock for him. Then Buster passed on and I took over.”
For about a year, Eric worked out of town and couldn’t find time to come in and wind the clock. Mike Walker did it. Then Mike quit and Eric took it back over.
Eric, who works mostly nights at Overnight Transportation in Kansas City, Kan. has passed along the technique. “Two or three others can do it if I get sick or have to be gone,” he says.
The Gallatin R-5 FFA is making new hands for the clock. The hands will be made of oak and painted black. The minute hand is about four feet long and the hour hand is about three feet long.
Pigeons pose a problem for the clock.
“Three or five birds roosting on the hands of the clock can stop the weights and mess up the timer,” says Eric.
The backs of the clocks are frosted glass about half an inch thick.
“The glass was also made in 1908,” says Eric. “So you know it took a lot of hot fire and sand to make it.”
When Eric took over, a broken pane of glass was held together with wire. The wire was catching the clock and eventually hung it up. It stopped all four clocks.
Eric got the county to put in a new glass when they put in new doors and windows for the courthouse.
Eric occasionally gives tours of the clock tower. An assistant scout master with Troop 67 Gallatin and committee member for the cub scouts, Eric has brought up the cub scouts, weebelos, tiger scouts, boy scouts and girl scouts. For Missouri History Day one year both fourth grade classes came up. They’re freshmen now.
The glass is covered with signatures and dates of the people who’ve visited. Eric doesn’t mind people signing the glass as long as they keep the messages clean.
“There’s a lot of history there,” he says.
Eric’s wife, Lana, has taken a try at winding the clock. He brought his nieces and nephews up and videotaped them while they took turns cranking the clock.
“Some of them couldn’t hardly move it,” he says.
There is also a guest book for visitors to sign. The book includes the names of two men from New Zealand who signed it in 1999, Alestair Flet and Bruce Vincet. They had been involved with Eric’s church. Eric’s daughter, Casey, still keeps in touch with Mr. Flet by e-mail.
The county pays Eric so much a year to maintain the clock.
“My son Logan helps me. We split the money.”
Eric has kept everything up and doesn’t expect the clock to need any major repairs for awhile.
“When I first took over it was pretty gummed up and hard to clean,” he says. “It was the worst thing to do in the summer when there was no air. I’d have to work a while and leave. Since then I oil it, grease it, clean it, keep it shiny.”
As a caretaker, Eric has been as constant and reliable as the old tower clock.
“I’ll be doing it as long as I live in Gallatin,” he says. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”