Sunday, May 07, 2000
All's right again: Fountain's back
People welcome its return with open arms
After 129 years, the Tyler Davidson Fountain still draws a crowd.
Tyler Davidson Fountain in Fountain Square is unveiled Saturday.
(Jeff Swinger photo)
| ZOOM |
|
This work of art in bronze, water and granite is the heart of the city. It belongs to us, the people of Cincinnati.
On a balmy spring evening, the fountain brought people together from all over the Tristate. They said what generations of Greater Cincinnatians have said before them: Meet me at the fountain.
A crowd estimated at nearly 10,000 people met at the fountain Saturday night to see water flow and lights glow.
Bands played.
Clergymen prayed.
Protesters chanted.
Dignitaries spoke.
The crowd applauded.
But the loudest cheers went to the star of the show, the newly restored fountain.
As the speeches were made, lights in the fountain's pool gradually brightened to cast a golden glow through the water and beneath the billowing folds of the white cloth draping the structure.
At 8:20 p.m., the crowd participated in a group countdown as workers pulled ropes attached to the foun tain's crown. Down fell the drapes. The crowd roared.
How appropriate that the people helped in the unveiling. This is the people's fountain.
As the drapes fell, water flowed freely from holes in the hands of the Genius of Water, the figure of a woman atop the fountain.
The Genius stands 9 feet tall. Holes, like those in a shower head, dot her thick bronze palms, 710 holes in her left hand, 676 in her right. They sent beads of water onto the bronze figures below.
The fountain is the undisputed focal point of this river city. We gather around its waters when our sweetest dreams come true. It's a place of great tradition, a spot in town to share in the joys of life.
Wars end and we meet at the fountain.
We win a big game, we celebrate at the fountain.
After a show or concert, people flock to the fountain.
Relatives visit and we snap their pictures by the fountain's flowing waters.
At night, in the soft glow of the fountain's light, lovers hold hands. And steal a kiss.
Wedding parties pose under the outstretched arms of the Genius of Water. Little kids run around the pool and giggle as they splash themselves with water from its four drinking fountains.
None of those events would have had a chance of happening again if the fountain had not been restored. The civic centerpiece stood on the verge of collapse when its plight was first described two years ago in this column.
Three million dollars in private donations saved the fountain, $2 million for repairs, $1 million for a maintenance endowment fund.
The fountain was supposed to be dedicated during the Reds' Opening Day parade. Give the fountain its own party, I suggested four months ago. That idea turned into this weekend's two-day fountain fest.
For Saturday night's unveiling, decades of grime and corrosion, as well as a sickly green coating, were removed.
The fountain now glows with a dark brown hue. Its color and glossy surface mirror a finely polished piece of mahogany furniture.
New water sprays have been adjusted so passersby can see the fountain's details along with the water show. Visible once more are panels depicting scenes from the age of steam as well as figures of a little boy lacing up his ice skates and a man begging the heavens for rain to extinguish flames leaping from his house.
The figures and panels tell a story about the benefits of water. The fountain's history tells a story of how a city has bonded with a landmark and made Fountain Square a place of relaxation and inspiration.
That bond keeps people coming back, again and again, to celebrate at this special site. A civic gathering place, a public square, is something to be cherished.
We live in an increasingly fragmented age. Fewer and fewer people venture from their homes and the Internet. They prefer chat rooms to the company of strangers.
Still, in Cincinnati, when the fountain calls, the people turn out. That's why the square and the fountain are so dear to our city.
We know other towns are not as blessed. So we take pride in this civic treasure.
That pride exists because the fountain stands on a human level. Anyone can relate to the landmark's bronze statues. Nobody famous has a likeness on the fountain. These are everyday people doing everyday things.
And they belong to us. A medallion at the feet of the Genius of Water reads: To the people of Cincinnati.
This fountain is ours to enjoy. But, along with the right of ownership, the medallion's words also carry a sense of responsibility. The fountain is ours to preserve and maintain.
That way, future generations of Cincinnatians will also be able to get together. They can celebrate sweet victories and create new memories by saying:
Meet me at the fountain.
Columnist Cliff Radel can be reached at 768-8379; fax 768-8340.