Now that our society has become one elaborate, unending comments section, many of us may have been seeking [questing] for something wholesome to enjoy.

A funeral, perhaps.

Let me explain.

Loyal Scaiaholics will recall my fascination with the Lewisville Fighting Farmers water tower. Imagine how crestfallen I was to hear it was being torn down.

I wasn’t the only one who was crestfallen. The city had a memorial for the water tower, and I was glad to learn about its history, discussing the issue with the farmer himself.

People at the memorial had noticed the demographic of Lewisville had changed. In that link above, I explore the possibility of adopting a more appropriate nickname, such as “Fighting Mid-Level Executives.”

Long time Lewisvillians explain that back in the day, the city was most definitely not a suburb of Dallas. A 1973 graduate explains Lewisville was a city of its own, far enough away from Dallas and Fort Worth that the tower was one of the most visible parts of the city.

So visible, in fact, that even the Germans were aware of it. Perhaps they were planning to annex the tower.

That gentleman’s brother had even worked in Ukraine, so the fightin’ farmer had also helped the fightin’ Ukrainians.

I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who’s bonded with the water tower.

People could even sign the base of the tower during the memorial. Another graduate explained he was glad to show his wife [a Californian] how it really is.

But the tower is no more. The tower will be remembered in mural form along the interstate.

We all make connections to landmarks that represent our backgrounds. For instance, the picture on my computer desktop is the iconic “Welcome to Ohio” sign on Interstate 70 when you cross over from Indiana west of Dayton.

And I may sign the Ohio sign just in case anything ever happens to it.