One plot point in the 1985 movie classic “Back to the Future” involves the town’s clock tower. With the clock broken, preservationists raise funds to restore the timepiece and keep the building from being torn down.
The situation in the Iron Range town of Hibbing bears some similarity. I mean, no, Hibbing’s city hall clock wasn’t stopped by a Nov. 5, 1955 lightning bolt that fueled a Delorean DMC-12 converted into a time machine by an eccentric scientist. That part’s different. But the clock in Hibbing’s historic city hall is correct the same amount of times per day as the one in Marty McFly’s Hill Valley: just twice.
The plight of the Hibbing clock might not electrify audiences in quite the same way. Time, the elements and a lack of maintenance caused it to stop. In fact, a number of age-related problems afflict the Hibbing City Hall, many associated with water damage and insufficient funds for maintenance.
But fear not, this unique building erected after the move of Hibbing in the early 1920s will avoid the wrecking ball for the foreseeable future. That’s in part because of the work of a group of citizens who formed the “Save City Hall” group after a troubling report on the cost of repairing the building was published last year.
City councilor Justin Fosso now leads efforts to inform the public about repairs to the brick building which was designed to resemble Independence Hall in Philadelphia. Fosso kindly toured me around the clock tower last month.
Inside the tower, you see the fundamental problems afflicting both clock and building alike. What was aesthetically pleasing 100 years ago has since weathered a century of wind, rain and snow. Evidence of past maintenance, clearly visible inside the tower, noticeably sloughed off in more recent decades with reduced city budgets.
Hairline cracks reach across the four heavy glass clock faces, revealing a few small holes. Restoring, replacing or even moving these relics could destroy them. Throughout the building, the ravages of a century took their toll.
“City Hall is falling apart because of infiltrating water,” confirmed Nick Arola, director of City Services, in a recent press release. “It needs corrective action to seal it up.”
In June, the Hibbing city council awarded a $1.7 million bid to renovate city hall in a project that will approach a $2 million price tag. The project includes new roofing, windows, mechanical and electrical upgrades and restoration to crumbling brickwork. Repairs will take place in stages over time, eventually replacing the clock with one that’s easier to maintain. They also hope to preserve elements of the the old clock as an artifact.
The city hall clock was born of controversy. In 1918, the Oliver Iron Mining Company announced plans to strip the former North Hibbing business district to mine the world’s richest untapped supply of iron ore. To entice townsfolk to move to South Hibbing, the company built a new downtown and agreed to pay taxes to fund the new high school and city hall. This deal marked the end of hostilities between the mining company and progressive mayor Victor L. Power’s administration. A prominent trial lawyer, Power made his career fighting the mines and spending iron ore taxes on public works.
However, after construction began on the new town, angry citizens voted Power and his political allies out of office in 1922. A coalition of conservatives, labor groups and those negatively affected by the abandonment of North Hibbing joined to elect as mayor a recent World War veteran and lawyer named John Gannon.
Gannon and Power saw the role of government very differently. On his way out the door, Power ordered an $16,000 clock for the new village hall tower. When the paperwork arrived, the new mayor flatly refused to sign, calling the clock too extravagant.
The matter ended up in court where Power and Gannon represented their opposing political views as lead attorneys: Power for the clock company, Gannon for the village. Power won the case, but Gannon still refused to sign for delivery or to pay the bill.
The voters decided they missed Power’s freewheeling leadership. In 1923, they restored him to the mayor’s office. He happily signed the contracts and paid the bill. He even expanded the scope of the timekeeping system, tying all the clocks in city hall to the master clock in the tower.
The manufacturer, E. Howard & Company of Boston, was slow to send the final parts because they had never received an order of this size before. By late October 1923, the chimes of Hibbing City Hall clock could be heard throughout the village.
The $16,000 bill for the clock in 1923 would equal $300,000 in today’s dollars. Ironically, what qualified as “extravagance” in 1922 resembles a fairly run-of-the-mill bid in 2024.
Demolishing one of the last relics of Hibbing’s “Age of Extravagance” to build a generic modern city hall would be a tragedy. Hibbing literally built itself around this structure and the powerful story it carries.
“It’s part of our history, but part of our future, too,” said Fosso. “There’s no value in tearing it down.”
Aaron J. Brown is an author and college instructor from northern Minnesota’s Iron Range. He writes the blog MinnesotaBrown.com and co-hosts the podcast “Power in the Wilderness” on Northern Community Radio. This piece first appeared in the Saturday, Aug. 31, 2024 edition of the Mesabi Tribune.
If an external fundraising effort exists I would be in. However I feel this expense sgould not be born by the citizens of Hibbing alone. Has there been applicatioin for a Legacy Grant ? fThanks for the article.