The Skeletons of the Red Line

The six-minute subway ride between Harvard and Central Square isn’t the most entertaining journey. Passengers find ways to distract themselves as the T hurtles through a cavernous obscurity, averting their eyes from the dark expanse rushing by. But if they were to squint out the window as the Red Line rounded the curve out of Harvard Station, they could see the abandoned shell of another station briefly appear.

Rubble and residue sit where commuters once stood. Phantom platforms materialize and evaporate in the blink of an eye. Chalky, ghostlike graffiti lingers hauntingly for a few moments, emerging just long enough to sharply reflect the flickering fluorescent lights above. Other spindly apparitions project eerie shadows that dance against the peeling paint of the derelict columns.

It doesn’t stop there: The underside of Cambridge is veritably littered with abandoned subway stations. The original Harvard station, which once served as the terminus of the Red Line, opened in 1912 along the southwest corner of the Yard; today, its defunct platform is visible from the left side of inbound trains. Its wide, high-capacity station design was innovative for the time and inspired subway models in New York, Philadelphia, and elsewhere.

The single-track “Stadium” station, which was also established in 1912 and closed in the late 1960s, resided just across the street from Kirkland House and was used to transport spectators to and from Harvard football games. Because it was only operational for special events, the platform was more narrow than usual and there was no set fare.

A map showing the approximate platform and headhouse locations of Harvard station and its four predecessors. By Courtesy of User:Pi.1415926535

In the late 1970s, when the MBTA began building the extension to Alewife, the original Harvard station was a direct obstacle to the path of construction; as such, the stop had to be temporarily rerouted twice. The Harvard-Brattle Station operated from 1979 to 1983 under what is now the Kennedy School and had a very makeshift feel, with wooden planks in lieu of a traditional platform. The Harvard-Holyoke Station stretched from Dunster Street to Holyoke Street and had a more finished appearance, with brick floors and tiled walls that are still visible on the right side of inbound trains as they zip by. In service from 1981 to 1983, it closed as the current Harvard Station opened.

Overall, the construction of the Alewife extension took over six years to complete and cost almost a quarter of a billion dollars in today’s money. The four decommissioned stations that lurk out of sight are urban memento mori reminding us that the city is constantly evolving and nothing is permanent. After all the effort, labor, and capital that went into the construction of the four Harvard stations, they now sprawl outward as forgotten skeletons of the Red Line. The current Harvard Station could one day be erased from our collective memory as well, increasingly relegated to a mere footnote in the MBTA’s ever-changing timeline until it, too, appears only in fleeting glimpses from the window of a speeding train.

Adam V. Aleksic ’23 is a joint concentrator in Government and Linguistics in Kirkland House. His column “The Harvard Beneath Our Feet” appears on alternate Thursdays.