Ever since I heard the explanation for why the city clock wasn't working, a slightly altered line from the song "My Grandfather's Clock" kept running through my head: "But it stopped short never to go again when the foreman retired." The "never to go again" part turns out not to be true. At 7:15 this morning when I passed the clock, the big hand was on three, and the little hand was on seven. The tradition of two centuries continues.
COPYRIGHT 2018 CAROLE OSTERINK