From HHB:

On the morning of December 6, 1917, Halifax Harbour became the centre of one of the largest non‑nuclear explosions in history.

When the munitions ship SS Mont‑Blanc collided with the Norwegian relief vessel SS Imo in the harbour narrows, the resulting fire and blast devastated Halifax and Dartmouth. Nearly 2,000 people were killed, thousands more injured, and entire neighbourhoods were erased. Among the losses were four north‑end churches, along with most of their records—leaving permanent gaps in the city’s historical memory.

More than a century later, a single object may offer a faint echo from that lost world.

A Bell With No Past

Tucked away in a dark HHB storage space sits a 126‑year‑old brass bell, weighing roughly 250 pounds. It bears only two markings:

Meneely Bell Foundry, Troy, New York — 1899.

The Meneely Foundry was one of the most respected bellmakers of its era, renowned for church bells but also known to produce bells for ships, factories, and businesses. The foundry closed in 1952, and surviving inventories make no reference to this bell.

There are no inscriptions to identify its original home. No church name. No dedication. Just a date—and a mystery.

The Missing Years

What we do know raises as many questions as it answers.

Somewhere between 1899 and 1955, the bell disappears from the historical record. It may have rung from a church tower. It may have served aboard a vessel. It may even have been blown into Halifax Harbour during the 1917 explosion, sitting half‑buried in mud for decades.

Then, in 1955, the bell resurfaces—this time as a fixture on the Angus L. Macdonald Bridge.

Veteran bridge staff are confident it once hung beneath the span, roughly 10 metres above the water, and there is reasonable speculation that it served as a manual warning bell for ships passing below. No wiring or control panel remains, but those components may have been removed as technology evolved—from mechanical warnings to electric foghorns, and eventually to today’s digital systems.

Rediscovered by Curiosity

For decades, the bell remained largely unnoticed—until a curious maintenance crew decided to ask questions.

Maintenance Supervisor David MacFadden, one of four workers who helped move the bell, remembers the effort clearly.

“It took some time and some muscle, but we were curious. It was just wasting away down there. We thought maybe it should be on display or part of a bridge exhibit.”

The bell was carefully hauled up to the bridge deck and later placed into storage. At one point, it was even marked for scrap—but survived.

A Story Still Waiting

Today, the bell remains safe, silent, and unresolved.

“It’s tough to put a 126‑year‑old bell on display when you really only know a fraction of the story,” says Steve Proctor, Communications Manager. “Maybe it’s a romantic view, but if we could find it came from one of the churches destroyed in the Explosion, we’d love to return it.”

Even if its origins are not ecclesiastical, uncovering the bell’s first 50 years would help restore a missing chapter of Halifax’s past.

“At the very least,” Proctor adds, “we’d have something meaningful to put on a card if we choose to display it.”

And so the questions remain:

Where did this bell ring first—and does anyone have any memory of ever hearing it ?

If you have photographs, documents, family stories, or leads that might help trace the bell’s journey, HHB would love to hear from you. bridges@hdbc.ns.ca

Some histories are written in books.

Others are waiting—quietly—to be heard again.