Big Ben

BONG. BONG. BONG. That’s my voice ringing out for everyone to hear. From way up high, I can see all of London. I watch the red buses zipping by and the boats floating down the long River Thames. Right next to me is the grand Palace of Westminster, where important people make big decisions. I have four big, glowing faces, and on each one, my hands point to the numbers to tell everyone the time. I am not just a tower. I am a voice for the whole city. Most people call me Big Ben, but that's really the name of my giant bell inside. My tower is officially named the Elizabeth Tower, but I like my nickname too.

I wasn't always here. A long, long time ago, a different palace stood where I am now. But one day in 1834, a big fire burned it all down. It was very sad. The people of London decided to build a new, even more wonderful palace, and they wanted a magnificent clock tower to go with it. That’s me. Two clever men, Charles Barry and Augustus Pugin, designed me to be strong and beautiful. They gave me fancy golden decorations and a tall pointy roof. In 1858, my Great Bell finally arrived. It was so heavy that it took sixteen strong horses to pull it through the streets. Everyone cheered. Then, in 1859, my clock started ticking, and I chimed for the very first time. BONG. My voice was finally heard.

My most important job is to keep time for everyone, day and night, in sunshine and in rain. I have watched over London during big celebrations with fireworks that light up the sky. I have also seen quiet, snowy mornings when the whole city is asleep. My chimes are a comforting sound that people hear on the radio all over the world, telling them everything is okay. Recently, I had a little spa day. Workers cleaned and polished my golden stone to make me gleam and my clock faces sparkle again. I am a symbol of steadiness and strength, and I promise to always be here, marking the time, BONG by BONG, for many, many more years to come.