One Tower, Three LivesSymbol of the City - the Stuttgart Television Tower

On clear days, you can see it from afar – the slender, silver index finger rising above the treetops of Degerloch: the Stuttgart Television Tower. It has stood over the city for 70 years and is much more than just a landmark. 

Desiree Sanchez looks out over her city from its viewing platform. “This is my favourite view,” she says quietly, almost reverently.

She has been working as a cashier at the SWR Television Tower in Stuttgart for ten years, welcoming visitors into the lift, sharing tips, chatting, and spreading good cheer. Originally from the Dominican Republic, Desiree has lived in Stuttgart so long that she jokingly calls herself “half-Swabian.” 

She immediately fell for the state’s capital with its international flair and rich cultural offerings. But the tower, she recalls, was the first place in Germany that made her feel at home. “I stepped onto the platform for the first time in 1994,” she remembers. “It was summer, I wore a white skirt, the wind lifted it, and I laughed and cried with happiness. That was the moment I knew: I want to stay here.”

Today, she’s brought her grandchildren to Leonhardts restaurant in the tower for some hot chocolate and to show them the city from above – she also reads a book about the tower to them, filled with striking pictures and fascinating facts. 

Sometimes, she even stays after work to take part in special events, maybe when yoga mats are unrolled or a gin tasting begins. The tower has become much more than just a viewpoint – it’s a place full of experiences.

Julian Leist sits alone in the empty stands, gazing out over the football pitch. Towering above the Gazi Stadium in Waldau is the slender silhouette of the Television Tower.

The former professional footballer is now the interim coordinator for the Stuttgarter Kickers and has known this place since his youth, having played countless matches here. Today, without spectators or teammates, he feels the stadium’s history more closely than ever.

Julian rises and walks along the sideline, pausing at the halfway line where he looks up. “I glance at the tower at least once during every training session and every match,” he says. “It’s simply part of the experience.”

The Television Tower is, for him, more than an architectural landmark. It is an emotional anchor in his daily sporting life, a point of orientation, a symbol of home. “When I’m on a plane and spot the tower, I know I’m home.”

The TV Tower is also significant to the club's identity. Its silhouette adorns the home jerseys of the Stuttgarter Kickers youth teams. A symbol of pride and belonging, and for Julian, one thing is certain:

Down in the city, towards the south, in a quaint side street, Reiner Bocka stirs cocktails in his café, Galão. The windows are open, almost every seat is taken, and music fills the air. Glasses clink as a band sets up on stage. “There are no reservations,” Reiner calls across the bar. “Just sit down anywhere you can” That's how it is here: part living room, part stage, a bit like a trip around the world via a cocktail glass. Reiner has run Galão for 16 years – a popular spot for live music, meeting friends, or simply enjoying spontaneous gatherings.

Whenever Reiner steps out for a breath of fresh air, he enjoys strolling around Marienplatz and glancing up at the Television Tower, but he also looks beyond its façade. As the weather warms, the square becomes the neighbourhood’s gathering place. And in July, when the Marienplatz Festival begins – which Reiner helps organise – the area comes to life with bands, food stalls, and dance floors.

“The Television Tower is a reminder, for me, that real communication happens through encounters,” he explains. “Sending messages is easy. The importance is to send them in a way that they can be received.”

The tower is symbolic, for him, of Stuttgart being a city that embraces diversity and inclusion, that is forward-thinking. And sometimes, as the sun sets and the square fills with people, he thinks: the tower may see everything, but Marienplatz feels it.