Essay On The Waiting Room In A Railway Station

Essay On The Waiting Room In A Railway Station-48
I have witnessed how Union Station facilitates personal interactions in the middle of the day, when strangers ask me how to transfer to the Metro Gold Line, so they may visit their new grandson at a local hospital.

I have witnessed how Union Station facilitates personal interactions in the middle of the day, when strangers ask me how to transfer to the Metro Gold Line, so they may visit their new grandson at a local hospital.

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By virtue of its site and existence, the station plays the role of public stage, chronicling the everyday experiences of a diverse cross section of visitors and locals from all walks of life.

I have heard at the station in the wee hours of the morning, waiting for a Fly Away bus to LAX, maintenance workers sharing stories about how some of the public artworks in Patsaouras Bus Plaza remind them of their respective homelands.

"Such opulent dimensions were not functionally necessary; the companies could afford magnificence and enjoyed their munificent role, as princes had in predemocratic ages," wrote Meeks in his 1956 book, In the mid-1950s, a proposal emerged to raze the station and construct in its place a home for the World's Fair — the so-called "Palace of Progress." That plan fell apart, but a new one surfaced in 1960, this one led by the Madison Square Garden Corporation.

That project, detailed by the in July 1961 [PDF], made room for the arena by flattening the existing Penn Station and building an underground one instead.

My mother, a native Angeleno, appreciated local history and culture and instilled the same kind of fervor in me.

I remember going to El Pueblo de Los Ángeles Historical Monument to light candles at tacos with fresh, handmade tortillas at La Luz del Día, and then crossing the street to marvel at Union Station’s painted ceilings and large, ornate chandeliers.

One thing that always struck me about my visits to Union Station was how quiet it was.

As a child during the 1980s I vividly remember seeing pigeons flying around the station (especially in the former Ticket Concourse).

Chávez) into downtown and exiting at Alameda Street, near the grand entrance to Union Station.

I was in constant awe of the building and the city surrounding it.

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