My Grandpa had his first kiss at Phoenix’s Union Station. He was a soldier, getting on a train and headed to war. The girl he kissed became my Granna. They were married for 67 years. I was curious about this old train station, which I was surprised to find still standing — and even more surprised and delighted to find a special kind of story within.

From Sunday’s paper, read The Spirit of Union Station here. Photos by Michael McNamara.

Thanks as ever to Michael McNamara for the gorgeous and spooky photos.

And thanks to Fred, for existing — or, not.

(You’ll want to read the story to learn more.)