A childhood memoir of life before polio, and immediately after, and my magical childhood adventures in and out of a wheelchair
The Clock Tower
A workman was having his lunch on the floor
of the Clock Tower when one of the weights that
worked the mechanism detached itself and killed
him outright!
Herne Bay's clock tower donated to the town in philanthropic gesture by Ann Thwait, a very rich old lady. (Rumour has it though that she never actually paid for it!) The Clock Tower has always had a peculiar fascination for me. Legend has it that a workman who was hired to maintain the clock's mechanism was seated on the floor of the clock tower's floor having his breakfast when a pendulum-weight detached itself from the mechanism and fell 40 feet, killing him outright.
This was before the clock went electric. There were two doors at the base of the clock tower, one either side, that led into a small room and here the unfortunate workman was clobbered. I had dreams as a child (and still do) of my living in this room. I was terrified of meeting the ghost of this man still eating his breakfast. (I have since found out that that he was in fact a scaffolder, who with his mate had come back on the Saturday morning to finish their work at the top of the Clock Tower. His mate lived in the town and went home for breakfast, but Edward Griggs lived in Glen Avenue and had brought his breakfast with him and went inside to eat it.
Apparently, the Clerk of the Council, during the inquest, implied that it was his own fault, as he had no right to be in there in the first place!)
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