When I was a young child, my family lived two blocks south of the Mesa Temple on Udall Street. There is a story in the family, and I remember it being told, because I remember it happening. I would wake up very early and unlock the front door and run down to the temple and splash in the reflecting pool. The security guard, thankfully, was a member of our ward and would fish me out and walk me home. At three years old I remember my Dad being really, really mad and my Mom crying about it. Soon after these escapades Dad put a new, and higher lock on the door. My days of water shenanigans were over.