RALEIGH, N.C. (AP) — Want to see the Liberty Bell this semi-quincentennial but don’t have the time or cheese for a pilgrimage to Philadelphia? Have no fear: Chances are, there’s one at a state Capitol, museum or even a fire station near you.
It won’t be the original, but it’ll be a dead ringer.
For a savings bond drive in 1950, the Treasury Department commissioned copies of the famously broken bell, one for each U.S. state and several territories. Except
for the serial numbers, they were faithful replicas — right down to the Pass and Stow trademark and a faux crack.
There’s a small but growing group of “bell hunters” who’ve dedicated themselves to visiting as many of the replicas as possible. If they were a gang, Tom Campbell would be the ringleader.
“It was a casual thing that turned into an obsession,” Campbell, a graphic designer, said.
Although Fort Collins, Colorado, is now his home, Campbell was born and raised in Philadelphia and visited the original Liberty Bell as a boy.
Ordered for the Pennsylvania State House, now known as Independence Hall, the bell cracked on its first test ring in the 1750s, was melted down and cast anew. There’s no evidence it was even rung on July 4, 1776; abolitionists rechristened it in the 1830s for the Bible verse encircling its crown, “Proclaim Liberty Throughout All the Land Unto All the Inhabitants thereof.”
No one knows exactly when or how the bell cracked again, but the last major attempt to restore it to ringing condition was in the 1840s.
Campbell didn’t know about the replicas until he moved to Denver in the late 1990s.
“I was wandering around, meeting a friend at a bar for a drink, and cut across the Capitol lawn and saw a full-size Liberty Bell sitting there,” he recalled. He read about the bond drive on a small bronze plaque, and a quest was born.
As Campbell and his wife, Dawn Putney, traveled the country, they began building bell trips into their itinerary. One day, she surprised him with his own website: tomlovesthelibertybell.com
“It was just a kind of a fun goof,” he said.
But three decades after he stumbled on that first bell, Campbell has become the go-to expert on these pieces of Americana.
The replicas were cast by the Paccard Foundry, run by a family who've been making bells in southeastern France since 1796.
They weigh the same as the original — 2,080 pounds (944 kilograms) — but differ from the OG bell in one very important respect: metallurgical makeup.
According to the National Park Service, the original was 70% copper, 25% tin and “small amounts of lead, gold, arsenic, silver, and zinc.” In a bell, those other metals amount to “impurities,” said Anne Paccard, the foundry’s communications director and chief for “art of sound” projects, like sculptures that feature bells.
“I must say that the original Liberty Bell is a very poor quality bell, metallurgically speaking,” she told The Associated Press in a recent email. “The bells we delivered in 1950 are made of a specific alloy of bronze called ‘airain’: 78% copper, 22% tin, nothing else.”
The Treasury bells toured the country on the backs of flatbed Ford trucks equipped with loudspeakers and festooned with red-white-and-blue banners.
“You could buy a savings bond, ring the Liberty Bell, have a party,” Campbell said.
At drive’s end, Treasury gifted the bells to the 48 states and the then-territories of Alaska, Hawaii, the U.S. Virgin Islands, and Puerto Rico. The District of Columbia and the Treasury Department each got one as well. (Three others went to Tokyo, a church in Paccard’s hometown and the Harry S. Truman Presidential Library and Museum in Independence, Missouri, giving that state two bells.)
Trouble is, they came with no guidance and no funds to preserve them.
“A local or state historian described it to me as an 'unaccessioned artifact,’” Campbell said. “Not every state wanted them necessarily, and not every state knew what to do with them.”
Virginia held a contest, and the people voted to send the bell to Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello. It later went into a storage shed until finally finding a home outside a local fire station.
More than half have spent most of their lives outdoors. Time, neglect and exposure to the elements have taken their toll.
Some of the painted-on cracks have faded or disappeared completely. Others bells are displayed without their clappers and/or yokes, or in steel frames that prevent them being rung.
“At that point, it really transitions to more of a monument than a functional bell,” Campbell said. “And, to me, that’s kind of sad.”
But as the nation prepares to celebrate 250 years of liberty, some of those orphan bells are getting a new life.
Kansas’ bell languished, disassembled, for years in a Capitol parking garage until state Sen. Elaine Bowers got involved. In October, the reassembled bell — resting on a heated concrete pad and supported by a custom-made wooden yoke, but still sans clapper — was given a place of honor outside the new Docking State Office Building.
“It just belongs here,” said a beaming Bowers as she stood beside bell No. 21. “It’s a fascinating piece of artwork, but also history that we all should be proud of.”
The Alabama and Idaho bells were shipped to the Bell Foundry Christoph in Charleston, South Carolina, for restoration and are expected to be home in time for the Fourth. Several other bells have also received recent touchups.
Campbell doesn’t set out to guilt states into fixing up and displaying their bells. But if his website happens to nudge them a bit, “maybe I’ll take a little credit for that.”
He’s also helped inspire a new generation of bell hunters.
By age 4, Zoe Murphy of Morris County, New Jersey, knew all the state capitals and their flags. At 5, she saw her first replica in Allentown, Pennsylvania.
Now a 14-year-old high school freshman, she has her own website zlovesamerica.com. She’s visited 39 of the bells over the years, from Alabama to Wyoming and even far-off Alaska.
Zoe says traveling the country has given her a deeper appreciation for America’s “collective mix of people and our culture.”
Meanwhile, Campbell's recent visit to Arizona’s newly restored bell — which was touring the state, complete with a rope for the tugging — brought his toll up to 40. Why does the Liberty Bell resonate with him?
“The fact that a cracked bell is the symbol of the United States is really the perfect symbol of an imperfect union,” he said.
Try as they might, it’ll be nearly impossible for these Liberty Bell fans to check all the replicas off their list. Three replicas remain totally unavailable to the public this anniversary year, as far as Campbell can tell. Ironically, one of them is Pennsylvania’s.
For many years, the Treasury bell was the centerpiece of a museum in the former Zion’s Reformed Church of Allentown, where the original was briefly hidden to prevent the British redcoats from melting it down for munitions. But the building changed hands in 2023, and the bell is no longer accessible to the general public while the church is being renovated. (Local officials are placing a lighter, taller replica in front of the church for the anniversary.)
Last June, North Carolina’s bell was hoisted from its spot across from the Legislative Building in Raleigh amid a multiyear renovation of the state history museum. When the AP asked to see it, the request was politely denied.
“Our Liberty Bell is in a secure storage facility,” spokeswoman Mary Huntley said.
The only replica that's truly lost is the one sent to Washington, D.C., which went missing from storage in the early 1980s. Campbell suspects it’s long since been melted down.
“That’s 2,080 pounds of bronze,” he says. “So, that has a scrap value.”
But if anyone has information about the capital bell, feel free to give Campbell a ring.
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Associated Press writer John Hanna in Topeka, Kansas; and video journalists Thomas Peipert in Fort Collins, Colorado; and Ted Shaffrey in Mount Olive, New Jersey, contributed to this report.
