Passing Through Union Station
Passing Through Union Station
- Photo essay by
- Lara Ajami
I got scammed for $50 inside Union Station. An older woman stopped me with her suitcase and a nonstop story—human rights, P. Diddy, Epstein, government conspiracies—saying the government had restricted her cards and she needed money for a train to New York.
The interaction ended before I fully understood what was happening. In Union Station, everything keeps moving—crowds, announcements, decisions—and there’s rarely space to stop and sort things out.
When Union Station opened in 1907, Washington’s rail system was chaotic—tracks cutting through neighborhoods and rail traffic clogging areas near the Capitol—so operations were pulled into one centralized, controlled location.
That move wasn’t only about fixing logistics. Union Station was designed to control how people entered the capital and what kind of city they believed they were arriving in.
Once it became the main gateway, everyone passed through here. Soldiers heading to war, migrants looking for work, presidents traveling quietly, and foreign delegations all moved through this station at different moments in history.
There’s another story above your head that most people miss. The Great Hall ceiling was inspired by ancient Roman public buildings, a deliberate choice meant to link Washington visually to older centers of power and permanence.
What saved the building wasn’t restoring the past exactly as it was. When Union Station reopened in the 1980s, retail, dining, and open circulation were added so it could stay active even for people who weren’t taking trains.
The station’s importance didn’t last forever. As rail travel declined in the mid-20th century, Union Station deteriorated, large sections closed, and demolition was seriously considered.
That’s why today, many people here aren’t travelers at all. Union Station works as a transit hub, a shortcut, a meeting point, and a public space—moving people through Washington in more ways than one.
I got scammed for $50 inside Union Station. An older woman stopped me with her suitcase and a nonstop story—human rights, P. Diddy, Epstein, government conspiracies—saying the government had restricted her cards and she needed money for a train to New York.
The interaction ended before I fully understood what was happening. In Union Station, everything keeps moving—crowds, announcements, decisions—and there’s rarely space to stop and sort things out.
When Union Station opened in 1907, Washington’s rail system was chaotic—tracks cutting through neighborhoods and rail traffic clogging areas near the Capitol—so operations were pulled into one centralized, controlled location.
That move wasn’t only about fixing logistics. Union Station was designed to control how people entered the capital and what kind of city they believed they were arriving in.
Once it became the main gateway, everyone passed through here. Soldiers heading to war, migrants looking for work, presidents traveling quietly, and foreign delegations all moved through this station at different moments in history.
There’s another story above your head that most people miss. The Great Hall ceiling was inspired by ancient Roman public buildings, a deliberate choice meant to link Washington visually to older centers of power and permanence.
What saved the building wasn’t restoring the past exactly as it was. When Union Station reopened in the 1980s, retail, dining, and open circulation were added so it could stay active even for people who weren’t taking trains.
The station’s importance didn’t last forever. As rail travel declined in the mid-20th century, Union Station deteriorated, large sections closed, and demolition was seriously considered.
That’s why today, many people here aren’t travelers at all. Union Station works as a transit hub, a shortcut, a meeting point, and a public space—moving people through Washington in more ways than one.
