Page 55 - Demo

53Monroe County Courthouse Inside the Monroe County Commissioners office, a smiling Jane Marie Lind greeted us with a friendly hello. The County Attorney had prepared two liability-release forms, and she had them ready for us to sign. After affixing our signatures, it was official%u2014if we were maimed or killed, we could not sue, and the county wouldn%u2019t be liable. Of course, having photographed scores of dilapidated houses, collapsing barns, abandoned stores, and deteriorating factories, the innards of a Courthouse dome didn%u2019t seem like much of a risk to us.Moments later, Jerry Appleberry arrived. As head of Security and Maintenance, he led us through an out-of-the-way doorway and up a flight of stairs into a behind-the-scenes universe of exposed framing, plumbing lines, insulation, and electrical conduit. After ascending a final, steep stairway, we stood on a narrow, circular walkway that hugged the walls. We were above the stained-glass ceiling that hangs over the rotunda, yet below the arching roof%u2014it felt as if we were mingling with the very viscera of the building.I didn%u2019t know what to expect, but this certainly was wasn%u2019t it. The walls were made of brick and coarsely cut limestone, and there was a ramshackle booth suspended over the stained-glass-and-iron matrix of the ceiling below. Resembling an outhouse, this was the home of the clock mechanism. Four metal shafts emerged from it, each driving a clock face on the exterior of the outer dome. There was only a rough plank connecting the walkway we were standing on to the clock room. That anyone would ever choose to cross that board seemed preposterous.Jerry assured us that he had, indeed, walked across into the clock room, as had a clock repairman. So, despite the precariousness of the aerial bridge before him, John felt that if others had made it, he could, too. With that, he bravely, but slowly, made his way across and into the booth with his camera and tripod. After defying Fate, he discovered the tiny space was too tight for a good shot of the mechanism, so he returned to the solidity of the walkway.Meanwhile, Jerry and I looked through the attic windows at the snow-covered surroundings. He pointed out the strings of holiday lights that he and his crew had recently draped around the Square. Jerry said when he first started working at the Courthouse, legions of pigeons lived inside the dome. After blocking their entry points, there had been inches of encrusted guano to remove%u2014a job as hazardous as it was disgusting. By now John was back on the main walkway, shooting the giant Courthouse bell. It was securely mounted to the structure of the building, and was activated by an electric solenoid. As John concentrated on taking shots from several angles, Jerry told me more about his work, his home, his family. Suddenly, GONG!John and I both jumped. With hearts pounding wildly, it took us each a few seconds to realize what had happened. The great, cast-iron bell was simply doing its thing%u2014mechanically indifferent to anyone standing next to it. When I looked over at Jerry, he was professionally cool and calm%u2014and smiling. %u2014LBAttic stair (Courthouse), Bloomington%u2014Monroe Co. (482-10)