Photo by Harold Rail. |
My
good friend Harold Rail, photographer and videographer extraordinary, posted
the image above on his Facebook page yesterday. I was stunned. Not only was it in some sad ways reminiscent of
Edward Hopper’s Nighthawks, but it spoke
loudly to me about the world we now
live in.
Many
Chicagoans will recognize the scene—the glassed in waiting area on the platform
of the Metra commuter station serving
the North and Northwest suburbs. That
platform and the train sheds are all that is left of what was once the Chicago & Northwestern Station. The rest of the once imposing limestone structure was razed in 1984 and replaced
with the glass-and-steel 42-story
Citicorp Center completed there in 1987.
The bottom three stories was
occupied by a new station which was
renamed the Ogilvie Transportation
Center in 1997, two years after the C&NW
merged into the Union Pacific Railroad
and surrendered its historic identity.
Today
tens of thousands of commuters, and other
cattle including some Amtrak
passengers pass through the gleaming
edifice which is lined with shopping
opportunities and a food court worthy
of any suburban mall, and take escalators up to the platform level
where there are ticket windows, more
shops and kiosks, plenty of flashy illuminated advertising, and a sad little bar that servers over-priced drinks and which is
jammed on evening rush hours. They read arrival and departure times on airline
terminal-like video monitors and rush through a bank of doors to the platform and 16 tracks where the locomotives
wait with their stainless steel cars in the dim tunnel.
Just
inside those doors is the waiting area for those with time to kill before their train.
In off peak hours and on weekends trains can run two hours or more apart leaving plenty
of idle time for those who miscalculated and drunks who missed the last
one. If there are any delays at rush hour the little room is
quickly overwhelmed and it doesn’t
take long before thousands are spilling over the platforms and out
into the waiting commercial arms of the station.
Once upon a time weary travelers could bide their time while pursuing broadsheet newspapers and perhaps getting their shoes shined in the upper level stately waiting room lined with green marble columns, measuring
201 by 202 feet and rising 84 feet to its barrel-vaulted ceiling.
Metra Purgatory
Inspired by a
Harold Rail photograph
The holding pen.
Always dirty.
A shrunken
dream.
Once there were
waiting rooms like cathedrals.
—Patrick
Murfin
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