Church’s bells strike a chord in Philly neighborhood

PHILADELPHIA — Late last year, Rev. Alfred Bradley planned a Christmastime surprise for the neighborhood he grew up in. He was bringing back the sound of church bells to the Fishtown neighborhood.

Thanks to two crafty volunteers and two generous families, the Holy Name of Jesus Church on E. Berks and Gaul streets received a bell tower upgrade with a new electronic carillon system and big speakers. The entire project cost less than $5,000.

“It was just our attempt to, we thought in a positive way, contribute to the sound of the city and maybe bring a bit of spirituality into an urban landscape,” the priest said. The chimes began days before Christmas, ringing on the hour between 9 a.m. and 6 p.m. with longer peals at noon and 6 p.m. for the prayer of St. Angelus.

A couple weeks and 980-plus chimes later, one Fishtown resident complained on a neighborhood Facebook page: “Can someone pass along that I hate hearing the bells and it should be illegal to terrorize your neighbors with the sounds of impending doom thank you … who can I speak with that has the authority to make this stop,” the post read.

The group lit up. The post prompted nearly 1,000 comments, most voicing support for the ringing bells, and telling the original poster — a newcomer to the neighborhood — to “go back to Brooklyn,” or wherever they moved from. There were some crude insults and comparisons to Satan (the devil, reportedly, hates bells), but overall the Philly pride jumped out in a response that was fiercely protective of Holy Name, its (electronic) bells, and Fishtown’s Irish and Polish Catholic roots.

“It was the first time Holy Name Church has [rung bells], but not the first time the neighborhood has … for many, especially old-time parishioners and neighborhood people, it’s a familiar sound,” said Bradley. A block away, the beloved St. Laurentius Church, built by Polish immigrants in 1882, tolled its bells for the last time in 2014. The building was demolished in 2022; its parishioners merged with Holy Name.

For folks who moved to the rapidly gentrifying neighborhood in the last decade, though, the sound could reasonably catch them off guard. But for many, the noise isn’t a problem.

“I work from home, I hear them every day. They don’t bother me,” said Ashleigh Sullivan, 26, who’s lived in Fishtown for about a year. “Some people are just dramatic … People find a problem with everything around here.”

Alex Paramntic, 68, has been in the neighborhood for more than 25 years. He was surprised when the bell tolls began, but he didn’t get why anyone would complain. “Church is church,” he said.

The bells “give an old country feel” for Jayanthi Sarathy, in her 50s, who walks around Fishtown all the time. “It’s like Notre Dame or something. I hope they don’t stop it,” she said.

The sound resonates throughout the homes closest to Holy Name, raising concerns about interruptions to sleeping schedules of the neighborhood’s infants.

“They are loud … I am indifferent. Like as long as it doesn’t wake up my kid, I’m really not too bothered,” said one resident who lives behind Holy Name and did not want to be identified.

Mjaan McIvor, 29, a nanny in the neighborhood, said the bells provide a sense of nostalgia, and she hears similar bells ring in Old City, where she also works. To cancel out street sounds, the baby has a white noise machine; McIvor observed that it’s usually construction noise, not chimes, that cuts through most.

“I find it ironic that people would get angry at bells in the city of Philadelphia, where our symbol is the Liberty Bell,” said University of Pennsylvania religion professor Justin McDaniel, who years ago spoke in support of preserving and saving St. Laurentius. “They’re certainly more pleasant than sirens and cars honking.”

Bell tolls date back centuries, and the practice of ringing bells or other percussion in prayer and ritual cuts across religions, said McDaniel. They signal mass, calls to prayer, the time, or big announcements, but more importantly they offer a communal experience.

Longtime Fishtown resident Maggie O’Brien was baffled to hear of anyone objecting to church bells, especially when she heard the complaint went as far as the City Council. One parent wrote to Councilman Mark Squilla (though technically the church is under the jurisdiction of Councilman Jeffrey Young, Jr.) and said the bells were disruptive to his sleeping baby. Squilla redirected the irked resident to Young, and to O’Brien, whom he knew attended Holy Name. O’Brien wrote back explaining the church’s efforts to install the new electronic system and that over the course of a day, the sound only lasts minutes.

“He seemed very entitled, like, ‘Oh they’re bothering me, so stop ringing them.’ You live in a city!” said O’Brien, laughing. “I don’t understand how five minutes in a 24-hour period would make you this upset to write to a councilman.”

“The sound of gentrification is silence,” wrote the Atlantic writer Xochitl Gonzalez in a piece about shifting demographics in Brooklyn. As Fishtown has seen an influx of wealthier residents, it may be that more people want quieter streets, even if they are within city limits.

Aside from the Facebook post and the parent’s letter, O’Brien and Rev. Bradley have received overwhelmingly positive feedback.

Holy Name’s bells continue to toll, and they’re difficult to ignore, which is partially the point. Churches have disappeared across the city in recent decades, leaving a wake of silence that’s only underscored the distance between neighbors. Maybe a few chimes could bring people closer together, whether to listen or — like any city dweller — complain.