Also this issue: Art -Sam Adams, Nate Chinen, Deni Kasrel, Patrick Rapa, Robin Rice and Toby Zinman Night Lights A CP theater critic takes on Lights of Liberty. -David Anthony Fox Illustration by mario zucca Oh Captain, My Captain Camden's Walt Whitman House is a find for poetry aficionados and amateur historians alike. -Karen Williams Death and Statues Looking for an art outing? Try Laurel Hill Cemetery. -Robin Rice Wise Guides CP staffers took to the streets to rate a selection of area tourist traps on a scale of one to five tricorn hats. (Five hats means it's a don't-miss destination, one hat means stay home and rent a movie.) Arch Street Quaker Meeting House -CP Staff

June 6-12, 2002

cover story

The Bell Spar

Dead Ringer: The Liberty Bell's twin can be neither seen nor heard. Photo By: Christina M. Felice

Two CP staffers duke it out over Philly's other bell.

by Juliet Fletcher and Patrick Rapa

Philadelphia has one famous bell -- a big, heavy, cracked, delicate, untouchable symbol of freedom and justice and such. But then there’s this other, lesser known bell at Third and Chestnut. The Bicentennial Bell, as it is called by the few who know about it, was bestowed upon the people of this country by Queen Elizabeth II in 1976. Forged in the same foundry, it was a sapling to the Liberty Bell’s redwood, intended to symbolize how everybody had gotten over that Revolutionary War and how we’re all pals now. However, Juliet Fletcher, a polite but weak British citizen, and Patrick Rapa, a robust but arrogant American, can’t seem to agree on the value of this second bell. We placed the two of them across from each other with a tape recorder to discuss it. Let’s listen in.…

Patrick: I just want to start off by saying thanks to you and your tiny island nation for giving us another big bell.

Juliet: Much appreciated. Yes, it sits in a high tower overlooking the city, and is meant to peal at 11 a.m. and 3 p.m.

P: If "peal' means "ring' in some cockney rhyming dialect, then I must ask, why haven't I heard the damn thing pealing?

J: Oh. Well, about that: It hasn't actually rung in two years. Apparently it's hard to find parts for an almost unique bell. They fixed it last fall, but then it rained for three days and the bell was broken again.

P: I just want to say thanks to you and your tiny island nation for giving us a big, broken, non-waterproof bell.

J: All bells are waterproof as standard in Britain. But haven't you read the dedication plaque underneath? Wherein the Queen acknowledges how losing the American colonies taught Britain a valuable lesson?

P: Yeah, "Don't mess with the U.S.' Too bad we didn't teach your country anything about the proper placement of the comma -- as evidenced by the hilarious grammatical pratfall which mars the plaque.

J: Riiight. So the blame wouldn't rest with some American cowboy plaque-maker?

P: Look you snaggle-toothed limey monarchist, our plaque-makers are very busy people. Anyway, if we thought the bell was worth the melted pennies it was hammered out of, why would we put it in a big brick box five stories above the earth?

J: Frankly, the seclusion's the only way to keep this National Treasure out of the hands of your local vandals. Look what happened to your other poncy bell --

P: I'll show you poncy, you snaggle-toothed --

J: You said that already, you capitalist blighter, you hockey hooligan--

P: Rrrr

J: Have at you!

(Sounds of a struggle)

Tape ends.