Today, Tom Hoopes writes in sharing a memory of his grade-school days:
I pushed the button on the water fountain, just as I had every morning, and pushed it slightly to the side. When I took my hand away it kept running. I ran too. Until a hand grabbed me. An adult hand. I was in the fifth grade at Mesa Verde Elementary School in Tucson, Arizona. The teacher probably knew that my daily requests to use the bathroom during her class were more an issue of boredom than bladder control. But I was a good student, so I was given a wink and a go-ahead. That’s where I became the Mystery Water Man in my mind. To get to the bathroom, you had to pass the 6th-grade classroom, the one with a water fountain just below its window with a button that could stick. Each day, I turned on the water, then ran. Each day I pictured the whole 6th grade rushing to the window to see who turned it on. And each day, I pictured them looking at the empty space on the sidewalk and wondering “Who is the Mystery Water Man?”
Sure, leaving the water running wasn’t all that big of a deal, but once he was caught his self reflection changed the trajectory of his life. With this in mind we would like to ask.