Wed 28 Jan 2009
Yesterday, I went searching for the school district’s web page to see if they had posted a school cancellation notice. There was nothing yet, but there was a list of places where cancellation information could be found — radio stations, TV stations, and so forth. Apparently, the fire station also rings its bell in a certain pattern at 6:30 and 7:00 a.m. to signal weather-related school changes: two dongs for two hours late, four dongs for no school. I had not been aware of the fire bell code.
The late news did not report that the school district was closed, but at 6:30 the next morning I was awakened by four bells, saving me the trouble of sitting through the display of 400 school closings until they got to the Ns.
I was charmed by this display of analog non-verbal mass communication, and I tried to think of some other modern-day examples. Here’s what I came up with:
- Emergency sirens
- Clock chimes
- Call to prayer
- Skyscraper lights that indicate weather changes
With the prevalence of electronic networks, this type of communication might be dying out. Any other examples?
January 30th, 2009 at 5:32 pm
As the resident papist, I feel the need to mention that when a new pope is selected, the ballots are burned with chemicals to make the smoke rising from the Sistine Chapel white, alerting the crowd to a new pope. If the necessary 2/3 majority was not met, the ballots are burned without chemicals and the smoke is black. So, the crowd can take little break.
As the daughter of a career Marine, I also appreciate the solemnity of flag symbolism, such as flying flags half mast, or flying the flag upside down as a distress signal. And, of course there is the white flag of surrender.
What a lovely ritual in your town — those fire bells. Instead, twice this week my family was awakened at 5:25 a.m. by a text message (BZZZZZ) and at 5:30 a.m. by a phone call with a recording from the superintendent announcing school was closed (Wednesday) and delayed (Thursday). Morbidly, my first thought was that my father must have died. To add insult to injury, my son’s preschool and daughter’s kindergarten class don’t even have school on Wednesdays. When I’m feeling kind, I imagine that the superintendent doesn’t know how to work the new system and delay the announcement until a reasonable hour like 6 a.m. Instead, the kids were up early to enjoy their day and a half of confinement. Gee, thanks!