View allAll Photos Tagged ClockTower
Two very similar images by a clocktower, taken a short while apart with a camera balanced precariously on a bin!
Once part of the Great Northern Railroad Depot, the Clocktower in Riverfront Park was built in 1902 and stands at an impressive 155 feet.
Handsworth Library Clocktower.
Seen from the no 74 bus on the Soho Road.
South & City College Birmingham and the former Handsworth Council House.
Grade II Listed Building
Public Library, Handsworth Council House and Job Preparation Unit
Listing Text
SOHO ROAD
1.
5104 Handsworth B21
Public Library,
Handsworth Council House
and Job Preparation Unit
SP 08 NW 6/43
II
2.
1878-9 by Alexander and Henman, as the Urban District Council Offices.
Red brick and terracotta with stone dressings; slate roof. Mostly 2 storeys
plus attic. To the left, the library part with a polygonal advanced bay
surmounted by an octagonal glazed and louvred lantern with miniscule gablets,
4 bays of windows and a broad gabled bay with a large first floor tripartite
window of 7 lights. The clock tower with entrance beneath a gable supporting
an oriel window, machicolations, parapet and glazed and timbered clock
stage has 2 bays of windows either side and, finally, on the right, there
is another gabled bay. The windows all with mullions and transoms. Some
pretty sculptural details.
Listing NGR: SP0479889438
This text is from the original listing, and may not necessarily reflect the current setting of the building.
Day 79 of 365.
In a most unusual occurrence, rain fell today.
And in a most usual occurrence, the Tribune Tower clocks do not actually tell you what time it is.
79/365 #365project
George stared at the locket - the only thing he had left to connect him to his mother. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again. In the five years he had endured the factory, much had changed in the outside world. Steel skeletons of buildings rose into the air, like clawed hands reaching for the puffy clouds above. Motorized carts zoomed around the streets, making a terrible racket and belching smoke everywhere. While he had seen a few of these before he was taken, they were now almost the only vehicles in the city, the old horses and carriages all but forgotten. Only this place, an old clocktower near the old center of Imperial City, remained constant. A symbol of an older time, from when the city was nothing but a simple town on a foreign rock. George’s father had shown him this place as a boy, taking him up inside the tower by a way known only to a few. That was before the accident claimed his life.
If only the world could go back to those days. Now the floor was covered with dust- clearly no one had been up here in a long time. His father had been the last of the time wardens, and with him had passed much knowledge of the trade. Now everyone carried the small hand clocks known as pocket-watches, and no one had any need for the old clocktower. George sighed. He could still hear the other children’s voices. He had to figure out how to help them escape too. He couldn’t let them continue to live like that. He remembered how he had felt. Trapped, terrified, and hopeless.
George shivered at the memory of that first week.
He had been put to work shoveling coal for the first month, a menial job meant to break his spirit. He was constantly dirty, underfed, overworked, and belittled. The system that the Overseer, for that was what the man called himself, had created was meant to reduce the children to no more than mindless automans, known only by their numbers. They were not allowed to talk to one another, not allowed to keep anything of their own to remind them of home.
George, however, had something many of the others did not; George had hope. Hope and a locket. The day that the Overseer had stripped them of any personal belongings, he had hidden the locket from his mother in his mouth. Each day after that he repeated his name to himself, and remembered the faces of those he loved. He knew that someday, an opportunity would arise, and he would escape.
And eventually, that day did come. George was working at the assembly line pounding lumps of hot metal into small sheets when suddenly the line of rollers stopped moving. He could hear the Overseer in another part of the building, yelling at the poor child who had caused the problem. George took advantage of this, quickly molding one of the pieces into a lockpick and slipping it into his trousers. He burned his finger on the hot metal, but resisted the urge to cry out. The rollers started moving again soon after and the work resumed, children snapping out of the trance they had been in, returning to work.
That night, George made his escape, secretly slipping from his bed, if it could be called that, and tiptoeing over to the door. He desperately wanted to wake the others, and take them with him, but he knew deep down inside that many of them no longer had a mind of their own, and would only alert the Overseer. He snuck down the hallway with bated breath, passing a room resounding with loud snoring, which could only have been the Overseer. George paused. Here was the Overseer, sound asleep and at his mercy. He could end this; end the misery of the other children, end the fear of parents wondering if they would be the next to lose a child, end the grief of those who had lost children. Yet he hesitated. What if he failed and was killed, or even worse, what if he succeeded? He would have to live out the rest of his life knowing he was a murderer. Even if others would laud his actions, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself.
He snuck onward, leaving the sleeping figure behind him. Reaching the door into the workroom, he reached for the knob and eased it open. It opened slowly, with a loud creak. George cringed at the noise and froze, yet no one came. He quietly slipped through and made his way to the large door at the end of the room. A door that he had not passed through in five years. The door that new children were brought through. A door that the Overseer disappeared through each day when retrieving supplies. The door to freedom.
He reached for the handle. Locked. He slipped the pick out of his pocket and gently coaxed the lock, extremely thankful for this skill that his father had taught him. He heard a click and tried the handle. It turned. He opened the door and was met with an ear splitting whistle. Opening the door had triggered some sort of alarm! George threw the door open the rest of the way and raced into what was beyond, the alarm ringing behind him.
He was met with a long hall, lined with doors. Oh no! He didn’t remember this in the slightest. But what he did remember was an old trick his father had taught him. If you ever get lost in an old building, put your head to the floor and listen and feel for a change in the air. The floor flagstones will have settled over time and you’ll be able to feel a slight change in the air coming from outside. George did this, growing desperate as he heard yells in other parts of the building. There! The third door on the left! His excitement mounting, he tried the handle. It was open! As he pulled it open he heard footsteps echoing behind him. Not even turning to look, he ran through the door and slammed it shut behind him. He then looked around. He was stuck in a small storeroom, but the room had an open window, with a slight breeze bringing in the scent of cinnamon from a nearby bakery.
George pushed a few boxes together and clambered up and out the window. He was free! For the first time in five years he could feel the outside air on his face. He could smell the scents of the city. He could feel the warm rays of the first sunlight on his face as the sun peeked over the horizon.
He was quickly brought back to reality, however, as he heard yells inside the building.
“He went out here!” they called.
Thomas took off, his legs strong from all the work he had done. Adrenaline coursed through his body as he raced down the street, no destination in mind except to escape the Overseer’s thugs. As he approached the center of the old city he caught sight of the old clock tower in the distance. He remembered all the times his father had brought him there and showed him projects he was working on. He knew that if he could make it there, he could lose the thugs. He took a left, heading for the tower with a new sense of purpose.
As he neared the tower, he could hear the thugs right behind him. His lack of nourishment was fighting his body, telling him to stop. He turned the last corner and there it was! He ducked through one of the arched openings at the base of the tower, and stumbled to the ground, exhausted. Through the arches he could see the thugs come around the corner, and skid to a stop, looking left and right, trying to find him. He could hear their voices drifting through the air.
“Start checking buildings,” the one who appeared to be the leader said.
George got to his feet. He couldn’t let them find him here. He headed for the back of the building, finding the service door unlocked. He entered the small closet, and locked the door behind him. He then began to climb, climb, climb. All the way to the top of the tower, to the place where massive gears and pieces of machinery kept the clock face running. They wouldn’t find him here he knew. Very few people knew about this place, and judging from the dust that coated everything, no one had been there in a very long time. He was safe, at least for now.
It had been a week since he escaped now, and he still didn’t know what to do. The home that his family once occupied was now gone, replaced by a shining steel building. All the places he remembered were completely different, if not gone entirely. But George still had something. Hope. For now he would serve as the new time warden, taking care of the old clocktower, but he would find a way to save those other children someday. And he would find his mother again.
—-
This was built for the Off the Beaten Path category of Wandering Skies.
To check out the other part of this story (The backstory of the Overseer) see this other build: www.flickr.com/photos/197227990@N07/53279791357/in/datepo...
Special thanks to PaulvilleMOCs for the design of the top gear.
Thanks for checking it out (and reading this far),
Math Wizard
Ormskirk is a market town in West Lancashire, England. It is situated 13 miles (21 km) north of Liverpool city centre, 11 miles (18 km) northwest of St Helens, 9 miles (14 km) southeast of Southport and 15 miles (24 km) southwest of Preston. Ormskirk is famous for its gingerbread.
An open market is held twice-weekly, on Thursdays and Saturdays, in the pedestrianised centre of Ormskirk. The location was originally the junction of the main roads to Preston, Liverpool and Wigan, and was marked by a market cross until it was replaced by the current clock tower in the nineteenth century.
Impressive buildings at Harenc School, Foots Cray. The clock itself appears to have stopped: it was about 10:05am when this picture was taken.
A nearby plaque commemorates Ted Heath opening the east wing of the school in 1996. Some people think he's still alive but he passed away in 2005.
.... it won't be from passion.
It's not obvious from this photo but the guy has his girlfriend in front of him.
IMG_6580
At the very top of the Daniels & Fisher Clocktower, Denver... the bell went off a few minutes after I took this... my god was it loud.. :)
________________
Penny: You don't even like people touching you. How are you and Amy going to have sex?
Sheldon: Why on Earth would we do that?
Penny: To have your baby. Didn't your mom have the talk? You know, when your private parts started to grow?
Sheldon: I am well aware of the way humans usually procreate, which is messy, unsanitary, and judging from living next door to you for the past three years, involves loud and unnecessary appeals to a deity.
Penny: Oh, God.
Sheldon: Exactly...
--"The Big Bang Theory" (CBS)
The Denver Clocktower is pretty photo-friendly, no?
______________________
CJ: The more photo-friendly of the two turkeys gets a Presidential pardon and a full life at a children's petting zoo; the other one gets eaten.
President Barlet: If the Oscars were like that, I'd watch.
--"The West Wing" (NBC)
The Jubilee Clock Tower, in George Town, Penang, Malaysia, is a Moorish-style Jubilee clock tower. Built to commemorate Queen Victoria's 1897 Diamond Jubilee, the tower is sixty feet tall, one foot for each year of Victoria's reign.
Commemorates the first coroner of the borough John Birt Davies, who held the office for 36 years.
The clocktower in Five Ways is Grade II listed, and is in front of 60 Calthorpe Road.
Late C19. Iron. Square box with Gothic-style blank tracery to each face. On it a column with a 'capital' sweeping out to carry the clocktower, each face of which is beneath a little pediment. Finial at the top.
Next floor up and you come to the barrels and religious figures.
Originally the religious figures, 3 kings and an angel, came outside every hour but that proved too much in terms of wear and tear. In 1858 they were replaced by two rotating barrels showing the hour in roman numerals and the minutes in 5 minute intervals.
The religious figures are still used but only make an appearance twice a year with a special mechanism being used to move the barrels out of the way.
I left Phil's and headed down the block towards a clocktower. Huh, this looks nice. I pistol whipped the doorknob and pushed open the door. There was a winding staircase that led up to a hatch. I walked up the stairs with my guns drawn. I pushed open the hatch only to find that no one was here. I now found myself in a large room with the inside of a clock on a wall. Damn.
Tick Tock
This was pretty nice. I looked around and found some weapon crates. There was one a them light pictures in there too, but I don't know how the damn things work. I sat down in the chair. I guess I can give up some territory to defend Logan. I don't need Phil's Furniture right now. And Wolverine ain't gonna need the damn market, neither. Sacrifices must be made to save him. I'm gonna get some rest.
Jonah Hex moves from #69 Phil's Fantastic Furniture to #68 Oracles Clocktower and uses Venom: You may sacrifice any number of territories you own to temporally increase your total strength level. For each territory sacrificed, you temporally gain +10 points. Sacrificed territories revert to neutral ones. The temporary points remain in your total strength for a period of 24 hours. Sacrifices Phil's Fantastic Furniture and the Garfield shopping mall.
The clocktower is a landmark in the town of Maynard, Massachusetts. During the Christmas season, its face is lit with green and red lights. I have additional images of Maynard in my set by that name.