while driving back from the thanksgiving holidays and deer camp, we stopped for gas. there was a salvation army bell ringer at this gas station in the middle of small town nowhere in pennsylvania. but instead of ringing a bell, he was playing the violin. we had to wait in line to get gas and i couldn’t take it anymore so i got out of the car to watch and listen to him. i had a harmonica in my pocket and asked to play along. he so nicely obliged. this guy was raking in more cash during our two songs than that virtuoso violin player at that subway in washington dc.
i’m gonna start carrying my whistle around for the holidays and join the bell ringers for a song or two til i get arrested or booed. has anyone else done this?
CM: Yeah. He’s gotta job in front of da department store, ringing this bell
and playing this tambourine next to this black pot, y’know?
TC: AW, I’VE SEEN THE DUDE, MAN!
CM: YEAH! You know who I’m talking about, man!
TC: Yeah, man! I played with that cat last year, man!
CM: WHA?!?!?
TC: Yeah, we played in front of a store, man! We made a lot of bread, man!
CM: Aw, hey, wait a minute, man! Santa Claus is not a musician, man!
TC: I’m hip, man! That cat didn’t know ANY tunes, man!
CM: Oh, hey, wait a minute, man…no, he’s not hip to that at all, man.
TC: No, but I played with THIS dude, man.
Sing Halleluja! Sing Halleluja!
Put a nickel in the drum,
Save another drunken bum.
Sing Halleluja! Sing Halleluja!
Put a nickel in the pail and you’ll be saved.
I think we should all do this. It could become a tradition–legends in the lore of Salvation Army Bell Ringers. Kind of like the Lone Ranger. “No one knows who those whistle players are.”
Think about it. I’ll bet people occasionally want to play with them, but it’s unlikely to be tin whistle.
A random, disorganized crowd of xmas shoppers, milling about the shopping mall
A silent cue, a secret clue, movement within movement, wheels within wheels
Suddenly, heads coalesce into a tight knot in one corner
Whistles in every hue and size appear from dark recesses
The Carol of the Bells rings out, sings out
Painful clarity of sharp sound reverbrating down the walls
In a swirl, they melt into the crowd again and are gone
The Whistling Bandits have struck again and are gone.
Does the church pay them or is it all volunteer, I wonder? I’ve seen them standing out in the rain and super freezing cold before, jingling their bells.
Looks like this could be a job opportunity for you!
They try to get volunteers, but supplement with minimum-wage hires from shelters, rehab organizations, etc. Here’s a link to Snopes debunking the rumor that bellringers get to keep a portion of the take in the pot.
Of course, if you’re feeling inexplicably altruistic, they have a website where you can volunteer!
Often these are alumni of the sally anne’s own shelters, rehabs, etc. The church finds them work to help them get back on their feet again.
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I don’t have much time for many of the salvation army’s politics or theology, but it has been my experience working in social services that the Salvation Army does an immense amount of good, often to people that more official organizations can’t or won’t help.
When we had a call late in the day or on a friday from a homeless senior, or from someone in the 55-60 bracket (unskilled; too old for labour jobs, & too young for a pension), the sally ann would send someone out, and that person WOULD provide for the immediate need, when all the more official ‘welfare’ programs or charities wouldn’t, couldn’t, or were mired in paperwork.
I agree. The Salvation Army does A LOT of good social work. So much so, in fact, that a lot of people don’t even realize that the Salvation Army is a church. They think it is purely a social work organization.
Around here, most of the bell ringers are volunteers - in fact many of the local TV and radio personalities take a turn or two at it.
When Tom and harpmaker helped out in Biloxi after Katrina, the Salvation Army was one of the only groups that was visible everywhere. They came around to the homes where people were still located and served a hot meal every day.
Personally, I’d like to see them read through to the last, as dramatically as possible. The poem’s sweet start is so decieving considering the bloody insanity of the end…I’m just picturing some guy on a street corner dancing around ringing a bell feverishly reciting the last stanza…THAT should get some attention.
The Bells has to be one of EAP’s wierdest poems but, seeing as the man was a rather methodical writer, I am reluctant to believe that it was the result of some creative accident. I would really like to know what his design was when he wrote it.
