
5 minute read
was Furman’s first carillonneur
TOWERING SOUNDS
Howard Thompson ’68 ascended the Bell Tower as Furman’s first carillonneur.
Advertisement
BY KELLEY BRUSS
Standing in the chamber behind the clock faces of Furman’s iconic bell tower, Howard Thompson ’68 remembers sensations as vividly as sounds: vibrations that would fill the space as he struck the batons connected to clappers in 60 bells just above him. The mechanical clacking that a carillonneur experiences is as prominent as the bell tones themselves.
And the weather, an inseparable part of playing a carillon in an open tower.
“It’s a fun instrument to play,” Thompson says. “You freeze in the winter, you burn in the summer, but that’s just part of it.”
Thompson is Furman’s original carillonneur. He was in school when the current bell tower was completed and its bells installed. Curiosity drew many music students up the spiral staircase in those years, but Thompson was the one who brought along a hymnal when he made the climb.
He taught himself to play in practice sessions that rang out across campus.
When he retired to Greenville in 2016, Thompson hoped to moonlight in his old role. But the bells are only rung electronically now. The mechanism that allowed them to be played by hand fell into disrepair and was removed more than a decade ago.
Thompson, who spent his career teaching music in Texas, would love for a new generation of students to experience the instrument as he did.
“It deserves to be heard, more than just to chime the hour,” he says.
A HISTORY WITH BELLS
Thompson grew up in Alexandria, Virginia, and first heard a carillon as a high school student visiting the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C.
He came to Furman as a church music major with an organ minor. And then the carillon arrived.
“I got interested in playing the thing and nobody else was,” Thompson says. “It was fun and then it became a job.”
“He knew the instrument inside and out,” says Charles Tompkins, professor of music, who has become friends with Thompson since he moved back from Texas.
Thompson’s tour of the carillon begins in Old College, the historic building near the entrance to the bell tower peninsula. The electronic operations for the bells are kept there.
Thompson loves the space almost as much as the tower.
“The years just fall away,” he says. “It looks the same, it smells the same.”
It wasn’t long before brides were asking Thompson to play during their weddings in the Rose Garden.
“They’d give me a radio and tell me when to play and when to stop,” Thompson says.
THE INSTRUMENT
A carillon is played using a clavier, wooden batons arranged as a keyboard with transmission wires connected to clappers in the bells.
When the musician strikes a baton – typically with the side of a loose fist – the wire pulls the clapper and rings the bell. The lowest bells sometimes are played by foot using batons arranged near the floor.
“It’s a direct connection to the clapper, which is a really cool feeling,” Thompson says.
In the tower, a concrete floor separates the carillonneur from the bells — an inches-wide gap in the concrete allows the transmission wires to move between levels.
“You actually heard more of the clack of the mechanism than you did the bells,” Thompson says.
He tells a story about a major donor who asked how many bells were in the Citadel’s carillon. The answer was 59 — so 60 were installed in Furman’s tower. But 48 is a more typical number, and that’s how many are in the tower now.
“The upper octave was there for ego purposes,” Thompson says, laughing.
From the beginning, electronics were used to chime the hours. Thompson once lost track of time and was in the bell chamber when the hour began to ring. The electronic breaker box was only steps away from where he stood.
“It didn’t take me long to get there,” he says. “The C bell rang first. I was humming C for a week.”
ELECTRONIC ERA
Once Thompson left, the carillon was rarely played manually. Another student played it in the 1980s, but for the most part, the clavier sat unused for decades.
No faculty member was trained to play, although “there are a few of us who have dabbled with the idea of learning it,” Tompkins says.
When Thompson finished at Furman, he headed to Baylor University in Waco, Texas. He spent his career as a music teacher and organist and continued to play the carillon in churches and universities. His wife, Mary Ann, who is also a musician, learned to play as well and became known for her Broadway on the Bells concerts.
When they were retiring to Greenville, Thompson reached out to Furman to say he and his wife would love to play the carillon if their services were needed. It was then he learned the manual clavier had been removed and the instrument was only played electronically. He was devastated.
“It kind of died for lack of use,” he says.

While the electronic function has been upgraded, “it’s not the same as someone actually playing,” Thompson says.
Because of the direct connection between musician and clappers, dynamic variety is possible — something that can’t be programmed in with the electronic clappers.
Thompson has found an outlet, though, for his passion: he taught a course through the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (OLLI) to introduce others to the carillon.
“It was quite evident that it was something he loved,” says Shelden Timmerman ’76, a retired minister of music who took the class with Thompson.
The carillon itself is world class. Tompkins calls it “one of the best in North America.”
Thompson would love to see the day when it could again be played manually. That would mean a new clavier, transmission lines and clappers. It would also have to mean commitment outside of the Thompson family.
“We really can’t restore this so my wife and I can play it,” he says, smiling.
Tompkins agrees. He envisions students learning the instrument and public concerts throughout the years, with Paris Mountain as a backdrop.
“I have often dreamed of the myriad benefits and opportunities that a restored carillon would bring, not only to Furman’s music program, but also as a wonderful enhancement to campus and community life,” he says.