Friday, November 14, 2014

On Water Towers

There was no water tower in my home town when I was a kid, I'm not sure why; maybe because I grew up on the shores of Lake Superior, and North America's largest single supply of freshwater is what we drank from...lined up along the shore like zebra. (Just kidding.) The first place I remember seeing a water tower - that is, the top-heavy, sphere-shaped variety found abundantly across the Midwestern landscape - was Phillips, Wisconsin, not too far away, and for a long time, at least up to fifth grade (when I last remember making a joke about it to a couple of bewildered - and probably annoyed - kids on the playground), I thought that all water towers said 'Phillips' on them, like it was a brand name, or something.

Thinking like that, I guess it's miraculous they let me graduate from elementary school, but I've maintained a healthy fascination with water towers ever since. There is a water tower in my hometown now. Maybe there always was one, I'm not sure, but the one that now towers visibly over a large section of town was built in the 1990s, and I don't remember ever seeing one before then.

How a water tower operates will be interesting to any self-respecting info nerd (er, right...?); the water gets pumped up into the reservoir tank and gravity is utilized to push it down from the reservoir to where it has to go. Sometimes the water is potable, and sometimes it's not, used instead for fire protection, or industrial purposes. It's a concept that dates back to ancient times. The Romans really knew how to handle their water properly, doubtless contributing mightily to their success.

But water towers are a bigger deal than just their size or their mechanics. I've always thought they help to punctuate a community, at least little towns. In cities they tend to get lost in the clutter of the skyline, reduced to a mere tank sitting discreetly on top of a building, looking much like part of the architecture. But in small towns they are often the tallest structure around, they help define the skyline, visible from a distance, and with the community's name painted on the side, they declare something vital. This is us, and this is where we live. We are here. 

They let the traveler know where he or she is as well, perhaps not so importantly as in days before GPS, but still preferably. I'd much rather a water tower tell me what town I'm in than my phone.

The good news is, unlike certain other objects, technology is never going to snuff the water tower out completely, and to that end, I'm looking forward to spotting them, lots of them, on 1/48/50.


BOYD, WISCONSIN - What better way for Boyd, Wisconsin, population 552, to announce its presence to the world that with its water tower?

YORK, NEBRASKA - Decorating water towers further distinguishes a community as unique (in a way the golden arches and the Arby's sign also visible in this picture can't possibly...)

ROCHESTER, MINNESOTA - And then, sometimes things get ridiculous, but that's okay. What did Neil Simon write? "Never underestimate the stimulation of eccentricity."