SOMETIME in the past week time has stood still in Young, the bells do not toll and, for most of us, it’s bang on five no matter which way you look.
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The town clock, if you haven’t gathered, has stopped.
And now, according to Young Shire Council’s corporate services manager Greg Armstrong, someone will have to take on the perilous task of climbing the 77 spiral stairs (or 27 vertical metres) to the belfry to see what’s gone wrong.
Mr Armstrong says the tick in the clock comes down to a small motor the size of a “D” cell battery and while the clock is maintained regularly, “about every 10 years,” the nonagerian sometimes requires the attention of a Sydney specialist.
“It’s definitely a conventional mechanism, it’s not 20th century,” he said of the motor.
At this stage he’s putting the stoppage down to an electrical fluctuation.
It’s the first time the clock has stopped since 2012, when, after renovations at the town hall, staff noticed it wasn’t striking properly.
A review soon determined it needed to be realigned, with specialist parts manufactured and a special technician for it to be reassembled.
There have been times when time has gone backwards.
That’s attributed to the reverse nature of the engine or the degree of difficulty in turning the hands, using spanners, from inside a clock.
“As you can imagine the view from a clock is entirely different when you’re standing on the inside looking out,” he said.
Mr Armstrong said the council would first assess the clock to see what had caused the stoppage.
He did suggest while they were up there, installing a large set of speakers and playing Pink Floyd’s “Time” for the benefit of the community.
“It’s a shame - we’re just a little bit late for Back to the Future day,” he said wistfully.
Young SHIRE Council’s Corporate services director Greg Amstrong knows an awful lot about the town hall memorial tower.
As the conversation about clocks ticked on, he laid claim to the fact he’d been up in the belfry more times, he challenges, than any other person in town.
As a clerk with Young Municipal Council, one of his daily chores was to climb the town, morning and evening to manually raise and lower the Australian flag, and an assortment of others, depending on the occasion.
This included Greek national flag, for resident cafe owners. And the Croatian flag on its national day for the Marketo family whose son, Miro Peter Marketo, was shot down over his native Yugoslavia as he fought for the Allies in the Second World War.
But there were times it may have escaped his attention.
“And heaven help you if you’re down at the Young Hotel consuming a few beers and you’ve forgotten to take the flag down,” he quipped, suggesting that if that happened (not saying it did!) he wouldn’t have been there to see the sunrise the next day.
A treacherous undertaking on the best of days, on the worst of days Greg would be perched out on parapets working the ropes as rain and frost threatened to dampen even the most fervent of nationalistic spirits.
But press on he did, unrestrained and without the luxury of the stainless steel guides of today, Greg ofttimes would have to find a way of restoring the rope - which would frequently dislodge - to the pulley on the pole swaying metres above.
“That was before the days of occupational health and safety,” he explained.
These days the flag is floodlit, which makes superflous the cumbersome task Greg was required to undertake.
Built in 1922-4, the tower of Young Town Hall is one of the largest memorials in the state and stands as a tribute to those who served and those who died in the First World War.
In a niche in the tower face is a magnificent statue of a Digger on the alert, with features similar to the late Tony Caldwell, whose parents, Mr and Mrs Steele Caldwell of “Eurabba”, Young, donated the statue at a cost of £330.
Made of hammered copper and standing six feet six inches it is regarded as one of the finest in the state.
The bell was made by one of the oldest bell foundries in the world, Taylors of Loughborough in Britain.
It was hung and the memorial tower officially opened on November 4, 1924.
The bell had to be silenced in the 1980s because a publican by the name of Charlie Frost, who ran the Australian Hotel across the road, didn’t sleep well.