The gongs, 10 of them this time, have been imbedded in Suncook’s DNA for more than a century, once alerting kids when it was dinner time, and then serving simply as a link to the past, charming and dependable like daylight.

The pigeon poo – delivered by birds soaring through shattered windows on an upper floor and layered at least three inches tall in some spots – has been scrubbed clean. The gears are greased and a new computerized gismo has been attached to those gears to fall back and spring ahead with the seasonal time changes.

Some residents near the tiny village on Main Street may not hear the clock tower do its thing, its familiarity by now blending into the old mill town’s landscape. But they’ve been paying for its upkeep for more than 20 years and continue to see funding as a show of respect for the past, and a nicely constructed one at that.

“This is our town symbol,” said Bob Fanny, Pembroke’s building and grounds foreman, who has a key to the clock’s locked door on Main Street. “The town said they needed to work on it and the people got together and said it’s the town symbol and they wanted it. You can see it on the sides of our DPW vehicles and the top of our town letterhead.”

Suncook has come to that conclusion, that while other buildings in the region and all over the place are sometimes torn down, or reshaped into a different entity, this gem, which continues to sing every hour on the hour, 365 days per year, still makes its presence known.

“There’s a mill there and over there. Where there are condos, there used to be Emerson Mills Furniture,” Fanny said. “My dad worked there and the clock would signal them for their lunch and for quitting time. It was loud enough where both mills could hear it.”

Fanny, who’s 55, and his family have lived in the Suncook Valley for 50 years. “My grandparents talked about the clock all the time, what it was like for people who worked at the mill.”

The Suncook village clocktower was built in 1879 and included a 500-pound bell. Some documented information was fuzzy or nonexistent. Somewhere along the line, the tower and clock fell into disrepair, giving the pigeons free rein.

The town of Pembroke bought the neglected tower and signed a 99-year renewable lease. The clock ticked again in 2001 at Old Home Day and has ever since.

Each year, the clock is painted, its gears are lubricated and the dust and cobwebs are eliminated. Previously, new floors replaced rotting wood and stairs were built into the structure, as opposed to climbing on shaky ladders.

The first three flights of stairs needed to reach the top of the clock tower were wide, well lit and included handrails. Yet, Fanny continued to issue warnings to visitors, who normally are not given access to the tower. There were wide open spaces, huge windows, a panoramic view of the surrounding red-brick structures and green trees, and a rocky road ahead.

“Be my guest,” said Fanny, as a dark, unfriendly-looking stairwell came into view. “I don’t go up there. It’s too steep.”

There were three stairwells left. All were narrow and dark, and this was beyond steep. This was STEEP, forcing your eyes to focus on each step and think of Quasimodo.

Near the top, a long chute maybe 50 feet down once held chains attached to weights, which slowly moved downward to keep the clock ticking, before the chains had to be pulled back up the chute manually to start the process over.

Later, the clocks ran on electricity, and it was only recently that a computer with a digital readout was installed and attached to the gears, which were attached to long rods that moved the hands once signaled.

None of the four clocks, facing in all four directions, were visible at the top. Just the new equipment, the slippery gears and the extensions that reach the clocks’ hands.

“The town assistant would come and wind the clock,” Fanny said. “This town has so much history that a lot of the people who live here don’t know about.”

The owner of the building that houses the clock, Don Beebo, has had a love affair with Suncook’s village for some time. He rents apartments in the adjacent building and checks on his beloved clock, nearly every day. He’s owned it for six years.

“I’m very happy to be the owner of the property,” Beebo said. “My friend bought this building 30 years ago, and I’ve been around and in love with that property and the village the whole time. I feel like the caretaker for that property, and I’m happy I’m able to do it.”

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