Liz Janisse: Fountain Square

When I was about 10, I went with my mother to Evanston, Illinois—an immediate northern suburb of Chicago and the home of her alma mater, Northwestern University.

            There we spent the day browsing shops and walking the streets of the small town. We bought ice cream cones and found a place to sit at the Fountain Square. Children played around the bubbling fountains, passersby stopped to rest on the barriers at the edge, and families talked and laughed.

            In this bustling space, I was surprised to see a war memorial dedicated to the Evanston residents that have lost their lives fighting for our country. Their names are on display on pillars in the Fountain Square, including multiple wars.

            This memorial fits seamlessly into the town space, yet invites viewers to include a moment of remembrance in everyday life. In some ways, it seems as though the citizens lost are still a part of the typical existence and activity in Evanston. The Fountain Square is not a place of solemnity or solitude—instead, it is a place of life.