Celestial sound from an angel band of bell-ringers is a long-standing tradition at First Presbyterian Church in Ennis, Texas.
Conductor Patsy Jones, who also directs the choir, has led the group since the bells were purchased in 1989.
"Music in this church is very important – it's a huge part of worship. This is music to the soul for us, and that's kind of how this church looks at music," said Jones.
Kathy Morse has performed in the bell choir since its inception almost 20 years ago, "just for the joy of ringing," she said. Her husband, Van, plays as well, and repairs the bells' heavy straps when frequent use causes cracks.
The bell choir is composed of performers with varying degrees of formal musical education – from beginner to professional cellist – who play the three octaves of bells and three octaves of hand chimes.
The bells are held lightly against the front of the shoulder, and then rung in a smooth, elliptical motion roughly the shape of a football. To dampen the sound, the bell is quickly brought back to the shoulder or in contact with the hand.
A former music teacher, Jodi Chapman has family roots in the church as well. "I enjoy music, but I do it as much for the fellowship of the people we play with," she said.
Substitute Sara Erwin said getting used to reading bell music was a challenge – as the church pianist, she's accustomed to playing every note she sees on the page; with the bells, she only plays a few select notes.
Karen Pate's family is musical. She plays violin and upright bass, daughter Rebecca, 17, plays flute, and son Brandon, 10, plays sax and piano.
"I just like that we get to have something out of the normal – it's fun," said Brandon.
Penny Atwood isn't a music reader, but that doesn't stop her.
"I just know where my four notes are," she said with a smile.
The group coordinates their dress; this past Sunday, in honor of the city's abundance of the state flower, they wore bluebonnet vests.
Each musician polishes the brass bells they use after each use to keep them gleaming. When not in play during the performance, the bells rest on the table, which is actually upholsters with a sponge to soak up any stray sounds and hold the round instruments in place.
The group is self-sustaining – the funds to buy the bells came from volunteers selling hamburgers and cheeseburgers several years at the National Polka Festival.
This is not unlike some sports where people "play sick." The total musical scale is carefully played by a team, and without those four notes of any absent individual, the song isn't going to sound the same.
All the ringers seemed to agree working as a team to produce the ethereal sound is uplifting.
"You feel better when you walk out than when you walked in – and that's what church should do," Jones said.
There may be other benefits to bell ringing as well. Music has long been associated with mental exercise – and keeping up with the notes for bells is no exception, said Glenda Quinn.
"It's better than crosswords," she said.
Working together to produce the scale and then play songs on it has social rewards as well.
"This bell group keeps me going every Sunday – they keep me on track," said Katie Lee, the mother of a three-year-old.
For Karen Pate, the chance to give back to the musical traditions of the church rings her bell.
"It was such an awesome experience to be part of something so moving and so beautiful, and be able to return that – it's a privilege to be able to play," Pate said.
The longest-running continually active bell choir in town prepares a variety of musical material for inclusion in the church's programs, including the occasional classical or secular piece. Currently, they're preparing the theme from Phantom of the Opera.
Although you'd never guess it, the church itself is actually an old Army chapel – it stands in the place of the original church, which burned to the ground on Christmas Eve in 1945 after candles left burning caught fire, said Patsy Jones.
With her grandchildren in tow come Sunday, that makes six generations of Patsy Jones' family that have attended First Presbyterian of Ennis; her great-grandfather, Abner McCain Kirkpatrick, first brought his family to church there in the 1800s.
At First Presbyterian, there's no need to ask for whom the bells toll: the communion table is open to all, Jones said.
"We're a small church with a big heart," she said. "Everyone is welcome."
This article originally appeared in The Ennis Journal. For more Ennis Journal stories, see www.ennisjournal.com
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