Nhu Binh Tran is currently in the first sleep. It is shortly after 23 o'clock in the night from Saturday to Sunday. "I woke up because I heard a sound I wanted to stop," says the 45-Year-old. The sound he knows. "I knew right away that it is one of our two churches in the parish Association must be St. Rupert and St. Benedikt." But continuous ringing in the middle of the night? Nhu Binh Tran got dressed and hurried to the street. Because the apartment of his family is located almost exactly in the middle between the two houses of God, he heard only here, where the non-wool comes to the end of ringing. "It was my Church, St. Benedict". Here, the native Vietnamese is since 15 years the sacristan.
It is Monday morning, Tran is with a black goose-Down-Anorak and green Outdoor pants, some of the sewn-on pockets filled to the brim Benedict, in the sacristy of St. and told of his commitment shortly before midnight on Saturday. The time, as one of the four bells of St. Benedict for more than an hour, no sleep wanted to give, and probably not a few in the Westend roused from sleep.
At the Moment, the Church is silent bell of St. Benedict, the current is turned off. Only the Church clock strikes every quarter of an hour.(photo: Stephan hull)
As Tran, the Church reached the gate, there were already a few neighbors, he recalls. The a annoyed from the never-ending ringing, others conjectured, if one of the two popes died and, therefore, spontaneous grief peal set. With his own friendly Smile, the Sexton shakes his head. "It was just a technical fault. We are sorry and we want to apologize and I also me personally at all in the West end!"
In the sacristy, where the Church staff has to be first away in the night, under a large wooden crucifix with a light bar. Here you can by pressing the bells off. "I did, but it didn't work," explains the sacristan. Right next to the fuse box, the electricity for the whole of the Church interior is controlled, the Altar, sockets, lighting. "Look," says the friendly and always benevolently smiling Mr Tran, "then I flipped the lever." In the sacristy, all the lights go out suddenly. "I've been listening to, everything was dark, but the bells have rung."
The 45-Year-old takes his big bunch of keys from the table. "Come with me!" He opens a door and descends a narrow, curved staircase in the basement. "You see, since the main distribution, since the entire house is involved." Here, too, he turns the switch. "I've been listening to and after a few minutes noticed that it is quieter and quieter. After the power is turned Off, the bell is swinging, Yes." Done! Even if he had not been the whole time in a panic, a storm is ringing in the ear is not necessarily quiet.
shortly before midnight the sacristan Nhu Binh Tran has the storm ringing stopped. He threw the switch.(photo: Stephan hull)
On Sunday morning is Tran in the company of other Church employees, from the gallery to the bell tower to the chime fuse out to turn. This Monday morning he also leads the visit in this cold corner, where the electrical system winds its way through the plaster. From there, 78 steep, narrow steps lead straight into the tower of the 1881-built Church, which was destroyed in the Second world war, significantly - but not this part of the building. At the very top of the four-part bronze depends on dumb bells. "Mary, powerful mother hand screen Church, the state and the Fatherland", to call Tran on his guest a few levels below. The Marie bell in the Erdinger foundry Karl Czudnochowsky, the swings here since 1957, was probably the culprit that gave no rest.
As the Tran for the worship of the Vietnamese community turned on the electricity on Sunday temporarily, started again suddenly, "point, 11 o'clock". That was almost scary. Since then, everything is switched off again. Only the extra metered Church clock strikes every quarter of an hour. The experts of a rain Burger special company are already informed and will probably explore in the next few days carefully, says the sacristan, in what has now triggered the nocturnal storm ring.