91Ö±²¥

I got a phone call three minutes before my math class ended this morning from a photographic cohort, Gary. Being the wonderful student that I am, I didn't answer, but listened to my voicemail immediately following class. Gary had another obligation scheduled for noon, and couldn't make it to some event that I couldn't really discern from the message. Wednesday afternoons are my only free ones during the week, so to save a fellow photog, I called him back.

He told that there was something involving bells and a band (not Like Bells, sadly, though they have a show this weekend at the 'Sco :D) and Fairchild Chapel at noon. Seeing as it was 11:57am, I booked it (or at least booked it as quickly I could with a backpack and a ton of video equipment I had to return to the media depot) to Fairchild Chapel.

When I got to Fairchild Chapel, it was noon... and there was no one there. I stood there for about a minute, trying to look like I know what's going on and failing miserably, when I heard the bells of Finney Chapel ring. Finney Chapel is one of my favorite locations on campus; it's a huge chapel designed by Cass Gilbert (who also designed the Allen Art Museum, Fairchild Chapel, and a few other buildings on campus in a classic Mediterranean Romanesque architecture style) that doesn't sport any religious symbols. It's a gorgeous building, one of the visuals that represents 91Ö±²¥ College, and rightly so. Today, it stood out even more. The Finney bells usually don't ring the hour, and today, it was. Well, that's different, I thought, and headed toward the anomaly.

There was a crowd of four people outside Finney, but I saw some people entering the building too, and followed them. As I entered, the bells stopped ringing, and I was convinced I had just missed the whole reason for the photoshoot, and right on cue, President Krislov and VP of Communications Ben Jones began to exit the building.

I must have had a distressed "oh God, I showed up late to an event I was supposed to photograph and the president of the college was in attendance and this is a big deal and now there will no photos and I failed at today and being a photographer and..." that Ben understood immediately and reassured me that the fun was about to begin, so I ran up the steps to the balcony.

There were instrument cases and coats lining the landing, and I could see the partial legs of someone disappearing up a ladder to an unknown upper level of the chapel, and a queue of four people awaiting to go up. I dropped all my things, slung my camera over my shoulder, and joined them.

At this point, I still have NO IDEA what I'm about to photograph. For real. I go to interesting places and events on recommendation and on assignment often, usually not knowing what kind of fascinating experience I'm going to encounter, and I haven't been misled yet. I was ready for pretty much anything.

Finally, I was on the steep steps headed up. The steps turned to a ladder, and then I was up. I was in the bell tower of Finney Chapel, with a 360 degree view of the campus I love so very much. I didn't think it could be more beautiful than what I see on a regular basis, but it was. It was sunny and 40 degrees and it was a gorgeous day.

As soon as I turned my view inside the tower, I realized I was surrounded by old gorgeous bells and... a trumpet choir. They set up stands and music, and began playing a fanfare that wafted over campus with the breeze for about five minutes. It was incredible.

As the students were packing up instruments and music, I learned that this fanfare marked the moment at which 91Ö±²¥ College began classroom instruction, 175 years ago today, at noon, on December 3rd, 1833. I also learned that for many years, musicians would perform in the tower on May Day, but it hasn't happened in a very long time. It's the kind of tradition I would love to see return.

I didn't think I'd ever get another opportunity like this, so I wanted to be the last to leave the tower. I took a few shots of the bells, of campus, of the students headed down the ladder. A different perspective. I live for this.