Photo by Tim Street

Melanie Woodworth, Jaymie Ocker and Hilary Robinson read the bulletin at St. Bride’s church.

To say the music at St. Bride’s is ethereal might seem a cliche, but so be it. This morning, after an English breakfast and trip via the tube, we found ourselves outside the journalists’ church here in London. St. Bride’s was designed by Sir Christoper Wren (who also designed St. Paul’s Cathedral) in 1672. It garnered its reputation as the house of worship for journalists because of its location on Fleet Street, the traditional home of the British media (although they’ve all since moved away thanks to a certain international media mogul). It’s also rumored that the tiered spire of St. Bride’s is the inspiration for the tiered wedding cake (see the inset picture). 

St. Bride’s is not a church with a lot of room, at least on the outside. There is a lovely courtyard full of benches and weathered stone that gives the building some breathing room, but otherwise, the antique church and the newer business buildings are separated by what seems like mere inches. In fact, it’s fairly difficult to get a good view of the main entrance of the church because it’s so closely surrounded. Once inside, however, there’s a much different feel.

Photo by Tim Street

The steeple of St. Bride’s Church.

The vaulted ceilings, the large, clear windows and the white stone all lend the church a feeling of lightness. Of openess. There is a bit of gilt ornamentation on the ceiling, the altar and some of the woodwork, but compared to sibling St. Paul’s Cathedral, St. Bride’s comes off as a bit austere – but a good austere.

One of the more interesting things I saw, as far as journalism goes, were the plaques along the walls, and some of the benches recognizing media outlets and journalists dead and alive. Some of the earliest remains of London were discovered underneath the church when a wartime bomb tore apart a section of St. Bride’s during WWII. Remains of both Roman construction and a Saxon church are still preserved in the Church’s crypt – but unfortunately, we were unable to see them, as a Sunday school class was taking place.

For me, the highlight of our time there was the choir. We were allowed to listen to the choir practice. It was strange to listen to a piece of music progressing, only to have it cut off by the director so the group could work on a particular phrase or passage, but even with the breaks it was beautiful and calming. The small group of about ten singers filled the church with the sound of a choir much bigger.

After leaving St. Bride’s we walked to Trafalgar Square, where a group was gathering to celebrate Kosovo’s independence. It was a bit chilly, but bright, and from where I sat on the steps you could see all the way down to Big Ben. With the way the light was hitting Nelson’s Column, as well as the big clock, it could have been a scene from a painting.

Next it was the Imperial War Museum. Which, I didn’t know, is housed in what used to be Bedlam — London’s infamous mental hospital. I suppose it makes an odd kind of sense though, that a museum chroncling war be in a place once called Bedlam. It was also odd to see children climb all over weapons in the building’s main exhibit, a courtyard full of the machinery of war. There were tanks, boats and guns wherever you looked.

Photo by Tim Street

A German V2 rocket.

Our guide told us a little about each of the large pieces in the room, including the German V1 rocket that devastated so much of London during WWII. The V1 looks almost cartoon-like. It’s basically a huge oblong bomb with wings. The Nazis would fire them from inclined launch pads, and after flying the programmed number of miles, the rocket would simply plummet to the earth. When flying, the rockets made a strange sort of hum, but as they began to fall, they went silent. The next thing a Londoner would hear was the explosion. The only thing worse than a V1 rocket was the V2 rocket (pictured) – developed and implemented by the Nazis near the end of the war in Europe. It was nearly twice the size of the V1 rocket and didn’t require an inclined launch pad to fire, meaning it could be fired from special railroad launch pads. Unlike the V1 rocket, the V2 rocket traveled a set amount of time, instead of distance.

Speaking of booms, at the museum you could go through the "Blitz Experience" You sit in a replica air raid shelter, listen to what a bombing sounds like and then walk through a recreation of a destroyed street. was rather claustrophobic.

Our guide, by the way, said he didn’t know much about Ernie Pyle until he found out he was going to be leading us through the museum. Before our tour officially began he pulled out a copy of Pyle’s "Brave Men" and thanked us for introducing him to Pyle’s writing. He said, "He writes so simply – makes you think you could write like that. Which is the genius of it."

Photo by Tim Street

The group listens to the tour guide talk about the tradition of keeping ravens at the Tower of London. Six ravens live at the tower, and legend says that if they all leave, the tower – and the British empire – will fall.

Tomorrow it’s off to the Frontline Club to meet the New York Times’ Pulitzer Prize winning John Burns, a visit to St. Paul’s itself and then a swing to Churchill’s Cabinet War Rooms. That is, if the weather behaves. We’re supposed to get gale winds and rain here.

Sorry you didn’t get an entry yesterday. We all had a pretty long day but held up rather well. After dropping our bags off at our hotel we took a four hour bus tour around the city. We stopped by St. Paul’s and the Albert Memorial (in memory of Queen Victoria’s husband) before spending a couple of hours in the Tower of London. Which, by the way, does have a WWII connection: During the war the Brits planted vegetables in the former moat in an effort to shore up the food supply.
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