On their frosty Thanksgiving morning, Chicagoans massed in the parks of the Midway, along sidewalk and gutter, all facing toward the University of Chicago's Gothic chapel, as the sound of bells from no direction that one could fix filled and emptied the air, now eerily fading, now resurging like a seashell's roar, brassily clanging, diminishing, mellowing into silver chimes. It was the University of Chicago's first carillon concert. In the 200-ft. tower of the chapel, Carilloneur Kamiel Lefévere, humped on his bench, was striking with clenched fists the keys of a huge 72-note instrument, the second that John Davison Rockefeller has...
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