I want to say something beautiful about hope and destruction, but I feel sad. (Which is to say, continue reading at your own risk) In high school, the church of my childhood cut down the over 100year old oak we used to stare at with awe. It was in the way of their progress and for me that decision confirmed and sealed the end of my time there. When Married and moved away, I discovered the second church of my childhood had made the same choice (though the oak was younger). They were excited about the open space for growth and I knew that once more my time there was officially over. Today they tore down a water tower. I’ve never been so upset about a manmade object being torn down. When I came home sick and tired (I’ve been both a lot lately) I smiled at that water tower and it’s logo. Even when I felt like I’d given my all and it wasn’t enough, I’d smile at the sight of that tower because I felt hope and possibility again. Mostly the meaning of this felled tower isn’t the same as the felled ancient oaks, but also it is. It is about my disappointment with community leaders who don’t value symbols of the past that inspire — that old oak was almost as old as the civil was and could well have been planted when that old church was used as a hospital for Union soldiers who brought destruction and freedom & that water tower, well it bore the logo of a mill whose name this neighborhood bears, because it was built to make sure workers would be close to work and also that unionized and made conditions more livable for a village of people. And yes I know there is bad in the good, and there is good in the bad. But still, my eye returns to the empty sky, the same way a tongue darts to where you’ve lost a tooth, and I am surprised and sad to find my symbol of hope gone. #opelika #millvillage #sow #pepperellmill #pepperellmills (at Opelika Pepperell Mill Village)
