on the way home from today's thrifting haunts, i drove by "my" old silver water tower as usual. it seems i've always lived nearby this water tower, ever since i was born. it was an icon of my childhood. a part of the scenery and background of my life.
when i was a little girl, i used to imagine it bursting and flooding the neighborhood ... but mainly i had happy thoughts and memories of it. the silver tower served as a beacon in many ways. i always knew HOME was close by.
well, i was gobsmacked to see HUMANS on top of it and quickly pulled over to take some pictures. then i drove closer to investigate. were they cleaning it??
i drove down the little side street leading to the fenced-in area at the bottom of the tower ... and discovered a full crew of worker men, cranes, etc. OH! they're renovating it, i thought to myself. how nice!
i noticed a clark kent-looking guy, notebook & pen in hand, interviewing what must've been a supervisor, because all he was doing was standing there in his hard hat, smoking a cig. it didn't take long for them to spot me and soon they were at my car.
i babbled on and on about how special this water tower was to me, growing up in the shadows of this silver giant, blah blah blah ... and then the reporter blurted out, "well you DO know they're tearing it down?!"
"uh, no. i did NOT know that. i thought y'all were cleaning it. or even better ... renovating it. you can't tear down my tower!"
"it's not being used," said hard hat. "they built a newer one over on lake road."
like. THAT. mattered. to. me.
clark kent started asking me reporter-type questions and scribbling fast and furious (i talk fast) about my history with the tower (oh, we go WAY back, all the way to 1961). my sweet little elementary school (fowler elem) is right across the street, where i spent 6 years of my childhood and many hours on the playground swings and slides, looking up at my huge silver friend and wondering what it'd be like to climb up that high. scary!!!
after chatting with hard hat and clark, i left the scene feeling a definite and significant sense of loss. tomorrow, i'm told, is when the "BIG" crane comes and "that's when things will really start coming down fast," hard hat had told me.
i don't think i can watch it. how do you watch an old friend just crumble (or clang) to the ground?? i circled the streets and took a few more shots of the silver giant, realizing this may be the last time i see her standing there.
keeping Perspective in check, i realize a water tower isn't a person or pet. i've lost both and nothing compares to that grief. but it's still a loss ... perhaps just a symbolic icon of my childhood and the fact that sometimes memories will have to do.