���߲ݴ�ý

But you can’t tell the story of Hespeler’s happy face hill without talking to its caretaker, who has been mowing a smiley face into the grass on the side of a hill at his Beaverdale Road farm for almost a quarter of a century.

The face, best seen on the left from the northbound lanes of Highway 24 while approaching Maple Grove Road, has become a local landmark.

For folks in Hespeler, or southeast Kitchener, it’s a beacon that reminds travellers they’re almost home.

Pilots training at the Region of Waterloo International Airport in Breslau have used it as a visual marker from the sky.

To others, it’s just a little thing that has brightened their day for the past 24 years.

“It’s nice that something that simple can have an impact,” said Sitler.

The heavy-truck mechanic never imagined he’d be sculpting grass on his property all these years.

As best as he can recall, the idea was conceived in 2001 — years after Highway 24 carved through the family’s 100-acre property, leaving the hillside exposed to thousands of motorists daily.

“It was just like all of a sudden you have people in your backyard all the time,” recalled Sitler. “We had to give people something to look at so they’re not focusing on us.”

There was talk about mowing a double ring in honour of a pal’s wedding on the farm, but that never happened.

A wagon wheel was first, but got ruined by winter tobogganers.

At the time, Sitler had a cheap motocross bike. His friends kidded that he got it at Walmart. So, he slapped a happy face sticker on it — the company’s logo — to make them laugh.

“Someone looked at the happy face and said, ‘Let’s cut that in the hill,’” he said. “That’s how it came about.”

Sitler has been clipping the grass on his sturdy green John Deere 345 lawn tractor ever since.

“It’s zero effort,” he says. “The topsoil is gone and not much grows on it anyway.”

Over time, it has become a fixture best seen, Sitler says, after the first snowfall.

Onlookers sometimes stumble up his driveway for a closer look, while friends have shown him photos of other grass art from around the world. Some have even referred to him as the happy-face guy.

Sitler remains humble through it all.

“I did not invent the happy face,” he said. “It’s a universal symbol. It doesn’t matter what part of the world you’re from or what language you speak, it means the same thing.”

For Sitler, the property — now about 20 acres — is his little piece of heaven.

His grandfather, Jeremiah, bought the farm back in 1946 and his family has been there ever since.

His parents, Paul and Hazel, who met while working up the road at the Snyder potato chip company, raised cattle and harvested corn and mushrooms, among other things, while raising four kids — Evelyn, Carolyn, Tim and Andrew.

“When we were kids growing up, it was always the hangout,” said Sitler. “We would just jump on our dirt bikes and fly across over toward where the Toyota plant is now and think nothing of it.”

Things have changed since then.

The fields, farms and dairies have been replaced by factories, warehouses and businesses. Subdivisions now surround the farm.

“At one point we said we’re always 20 minutes away from everything,” said Sitler. “Now we wish were two hours away.

“Everyone deserves a place to live. I don’t have a problem with that. But I look at how it used to be and there isn’t a barn in sight.”

Hazel died last year at 95. Paul passed away in 1999.

After his dad died, Sitler found a chair up at the top of happy face hill, which offers views of Kitchener, Waterloo, Cambridge and Guelph.

“He would just sit up there and watch the world go by,” he said.

Sitler is the only one living at the farm right now, save for a goat, a couple of barn cats, a few chickens and his trusty wiener dog, Stewart.

He still works winters for Greenhorizons Sod Farms — the big yellow bag company — after years of farming and fixing trucks at Breslau’s Safety-Kleen.

“I’ve never travelled more than 10 minutes to go to work my entire life,” he said.

Neighbours often pop by to chat in the barn.

When they can’t find him there, they just check the top of happy face hill.

“I’m up there almost every night,” said Sitler.

And he has no plans of slowing down.

“If I didn’t cut it, I’d never hear the end of it,” he said with a laugh. “But I don’t want the spotlight — I just want it to be a smiley face and not mine.

“It’s for Cambridge.”