Often hidden by vegetation and humidity, it's still there, dispensing water. It was built many years ago for this purpose, and despite the passage of time, rampant urbanization, and modernity at all costs, it has preferred to disappear behind the leaves, hide in the oblivion of the Civitani, blend in with the plants and rock of the wall. Yet despite everything, it has continued to do the job for which it was built: to bring water. When our ancestors noticed that fresh, clean water flowed from that slope of the Lanuvio hills that reaches all the way to Genzano, otherwise known as the mountain of the three chapels, they thought it best to channel it and make it usable. A work that today may seem banal and insignificant—a small spring hidden on the wall of a curve at the entrance to the town—historically, that fountain was anything but useless. Entire generations have drawn water from it. They didn't just come to Lanuvini to fill a jug or container, they quenched their thirst and refreshed themselves, silently thanking whoever built it. Many years ago, farmers and ranchers from the surrounding area likely used it for their gardens and livestock. Who knows how important it was during the war, when thirsty soldiers quenched their thirst with its water!
Rushing past Via Gramsci, we often glance at it, almost out of respect, almost as if to confirm that it still exists. The people of Lanuvio still call it the Fountain of the Fountain Curve, probably because in the past there were multiple points from which the water came. And the memories of the town are many and varied: some recall that many years ago the old Italian Communist Party organized parties in that area, others recall that when you drove by on your scooter in the winter, that area was always the coldest in town. The young people of Lanuvio would go there to drink, and the water is remembered as fresh and good, some, however, maintain that today it is no longer drinkable due to the urban development in the Montecagnoletto area. But the coming and going of people using it must have been intense until the 1980s, when some Lanuvio residents recall that a fellow villager named Olrandino decided to put up a sign painted in red that read "Water not drinkable!" He was probably annoyed by the cars that always parked in front of its gate. Others remember stopping there with their father, still distinctly feeling its purity and freshness; others remember stopping with their mother, who used to fill a small bottle. Probably every citizen of Civita has drunk from it at least once; everyone has a memory or a little story to tell about the fountain and its water. The greatest regret is that today it is no longer drinkable, as many maintain, due to man-made causes. It would be wonderful to restore and enhance it, verifying whether its water is still safe or not. Lanuvio's identity is also founded on a small symbol like an old hidden fountain, because its roots are also founded on this: history and memories are a precious part of a priceless heritage that should never be forgotten. The neglect of these symbols leads to the neglect of one's origins, and those who forget their origins and their past have no idea where they are going and no future. All those Lanuvini who wanted to give a small testimony of what this fountain was, to whom I am grateful for this, have unknowingly contributed to fixing a memory forever, to prevent it from being lost in the folds of time, keeping the fountain itself and the past of this wonderful town alive.
