Feature: Long Live The Union
Editor’s Note: You will find below some personal stories of how ACRN members and their friends found their comfort in weekends at The Union. The Union has acted as our safety net to fall into amongst the stressors of college, and it will be greatly missed (and supported) during its reconstruction. You can read blog posts about some specific shows at The Union here.
Zack Baker, Editorial Director
A lot of the stories you're going to read below are from wonderful people who are much younger than myself. The Union was only just becoming their weekend retreat, but it's been mine for years. Walking past it's now empty shell, surrounded by police barricades and pockets of ash still stubbornly residing in the cracks in the sidewalk–the cracks that once held so many nights worth of ash from my bummed cigarettes–I feel like I'm locked out of my home. The place I called home for four years is lifeless. It's devastating. The place where I met so many of the people I'm lucky enough to call my friends (although most are endlessly cooler than I will ever be), just isn't there anymore.
My first Athens show was at the Union. I saw Blithe Field and Brothertiger's last shows and watched people crowd surf to sample-based ambient music. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew that it was something special. And I didn't even want to go to the show! I was a bashful homebody, and if it hadn't have been for Evan "Wutever" Harris' insistence, I probably wouldn't know anyone I know today, wouldn't be writing about music, wouldn't be who I am today. And that was all because of The Union. That night might have ended with a few too many Gennys (thanks Evvy) and a drunken slip 'n' slide across the bathroom floor, but it changed my life. Without that night, without that bar, I don't know who I would be.
I won't be around when The Union comes back. I won't get to go to the assuredly fantastic re-opening show, and I won't see whether they managed to salvaged those giant wooden chieftans behind the bar. But I know that somewhere along the line, I'll come back to the place that changed my life and have a beer and play some pool and see a local band full of kids I've never met and feel miserably old. And I can't wait.
Abbie Doyle, Reviews Editor
The Union is so close to enough Athenians’ hearts that I know I don’t have to elaborate too much on how incredibly shitty it is that it is gone. Any big names that came through Athens came to the Union, any big ACRN event that needed to be sheltered was at the Union.
The holy Date Auction of 2014 was probably the most fun I had at the Union. I spent the night scurrying away from what I thought was an undercover cop (it wasn’t), screaming loudly about how much money I considered my friends to be worth and letting then-General Manager Benjammin Haager drunkenly show me how to roll my head to the beat. Xavier was wearing an absurd shirt, Colin pretended to take his shirt off—it was a beautiful evening and I am so sad that we cannot have another like it this year on that same stage.
The Union will always remain in my memory as a place where copious amounts of fun occurred, and where so many eardrums were gloriously shattered. It is my hope of hopes that the building will be in running condition by the time I have to leave Athens, so allow me to take this opportunity to textually send some good vibes to that wonderful building and all that ever happened inside of it.
Alexa Smith, News Editor
As a shy and highly unsocial freshman, I was terrified to go out to the bars and make bullshit conversation with douchey guys and sloppy sorority girls. That sounded like an absolute nightmare to me, I would rather die. So, I mainly just layed low, waiting for a pal to drag me from the comfort of my top bunk for a dang good time. That pal was the Union. She saved me from myself and introduced me to so many new faces and sounds that I will hold in my heart forever.
Although I’ve only had the opportunity to spend but two years walking and stumbling the bricks of Athens, I often found salvation in the Union. When there was nothing to do, there was always a show at the Union, either showcasing new Athens talent, giving everyone a chance at bat, or bringing in new, crazy and insanely talented musicians out of nowhere, like the Brazilian Boogarins and the sassy Shilpa Ray & Her Happy Hookers.
When I sum up all the most enjoyable nights that I have spent in this perfect town, nearly all have taken place in that radical sanctuary where people all gather to enjoy music for the sake of it. It breaks my heart that our time together was so ridiculously brief, but I am hopeful that she will rise again from the ashes and music will soon tunnel down that staircase and out the doors of our Sweet Lady Union.
Bring back the Union, bring back the love. Sweet dreams for now, my darling.
Xavier Veccia, Managing Editor
I was once asked in an interview what my most stressful week was and the answer was far and away the week leading up to this past ACRN Date Auction at The Union. I had four tests (one of which I had no clue about until that morning), was meeting with people left and right in order to become the PR Director and was one of the people most responsible for promoting one of ACRN’s largest annual events. Not to mention I was the master of ceremonies. I was on the verge of a breakdown, but it was all worth it at the end of that cold Thursday night.
Sure, I was stressed and probably could have done better. But it wasn’t about me as much as my angst made me think it was. It was about the longstanding relationship between ACRN and The Union. Crowds showed up to buy baes while others just wanted to drink at their favorite bar, but you couldn’t tell the difference because everyone there was spending Valentine’s Eve with one of Athens’ best attractions and having a damn fun time doing it. I’m going to miss a lot about The Union over the coming months, but what I’ll miss most is how it made so many people feel at home.
Marc Blanc, Staff Writer
I don’t even recall noticing it— not during tours of the university, not during my first weeks living here. Its name meant nothing to me until I was grabbed by a light blue flyer somewhere uptown. Beneath the long beautiful name of a band I loved was this short innocuous name: The Union.
“Where’s that?”
I had some fleeting idea of a “Union Street,” but fifteen minutes were spent wandering before I found The Union the night of The World Is a Beautiful Place and I Am No Longer Afraid to Die’s show. Coming upon the club’s wooden structure, I immediately imagined it standing during the Civil War as a bar serving northern soldiers on leave.
Back home there’s this venue in a basement, you open the door and are greeted with stairs dropping into darkness. This venue is known for smelling even more like urine than a typical punk rock bar. The Union, however, is an attic. The two-tone tiles can be seen from the bottom of the staircase and the redolence is spilled light beer, which, to a kid who’s spent his blossoming years at local shows, is like an autumn homecoming to apple and cinnamon candles.
The World Is show was remarkable. Why such great bands journeyed to a little windowless bar, I couldn’t say. For the first time in a while, I stopped judging people around me. At The Union, everyone was simply “interesting;” I had fun speculating about what led those hundred people there.
As shows passed, I found some answers. I believe people go there not only for music, but for the anonymous students who cease to be anonymous once they enter The Union. I didn’t think I’d find that kind of community in Athens, but all I had to do was find Union Street.
My dad visited a few weeks before the fire. We walked through town, and as we approached The Union I hurried ahead and declared it “Athens CBGBs” while pointing at the door made of flyers. I told Dad I would take him there one day.
And I will. This isn’t an elegy—this is a moment to realize The Union will again give a doubtful freshman an unbeatable welcome to his new home.
Tony Cardwell, Contributor
I can count the number of times I’ve seen shows at the Union on one hand. In fact I can count them on one finger. Yes, I, Tony Cardwell, only went to one show at the Union. So scandalous, I know.
I never had a personal connection to the Union. Yes the one show I went to was AMAZING, and yes watching You Blew It! and The World Is A Beautiful Place And I Am No Longer Afraid To Die was an experience I will not soon forget. But the Union was a place never meant that much to me. However, the Union does mean a great deal to those I consider friends and for me that is more than enough reason to lower my head in remembrance.
Hearing the stories from friends, stories of discovery, stories of awe, and stories of love take me back to a place I hold very dear to my heart. We all have that one place.
For me it’s a city, for others it’s a friends house, and for some it just so happened to be the Union. I cannot sympathize but I can empathize. If I lost Charlotte, North Carolina I would be devastated. With it I would be losing, memories of youth, friends, family, and love. I’d lose memories of great basketball and football games, personal cultural milestones, and numerous lessons ranging from don’t talk to the homeless for more than twenty seconds to never kiss your girlfriend on a train unless you want to be shoved heavily in the back. If I lost Charlotte I to would be lost. For that reason my heart yearns for those who lost their Charlotte, North Carolina two weeks ago.
The Union was a special place, not just because it could draw some great musical talent but because of the memories made there and the beer spilled there. The Union will live on in our hearts and in our minds. God bless the Union, we are eternally grateful for your service to Athens, Ohio and Ohio University.
Jordan Matthiass, Contributor
As with all freshman, I came to Athens in August wanting to find friends. However, I am a lot more reserved than most. I find it hard to speak up and connect with people. In my first few weeks at OU, though, I forced myself to break out of my comfort zone and get to know as many people as possible.
Though it was tough initially, I started getting to know a lot of people. These newfound friends were all passionate about the local music scene and, being transplanted from the backdrop of Columbus basement shows, I was eager to check out Athenian flare.
The Union was not the venue I visited first or most frequently, but it was certainly that which left the largest impression on me.
It was at The Union that I caught two of my favorite shows from 2014, The World Is a Beautiful Place and Empire! Empire! (I Was A Lonely Estate).
It was at The Union that I experienced some of the best memories of my ill-fated freshman relationship.
It was at The Union that I was interviewed about music for the first time in my life.
It was at The Union that I really knew I had friends. Sometimes I would show up to concerts way too early (a rookie mistake), but there would always be someone I knew there early too. We would talk, smiling and joking, until a band went on. Sometimes I would show up really late, in the middle of someone’s set, and everyone would already be on the floor. But when I climbed those stairs, people’s faces would light up. They would wave me over. I found my scene. I found people that made Athens, and The Union, feel like home.
Haadiza Ogwude, Contributor
The smell of tap beer and sweat fill the air, as a crowd of 100 or more people pack together to wait for a performance on stage. Lights are dim. Sounds of a restless crowd, the tuning of a guitar and a rickety old fan deafen your ears. Crammed between this large, sweaty guy and some girl dressed in all black, you feel intimidated, but then they turn to you and flash you a huge grin.
You almost don’t mind that in their drunken state they just spilled PBR all over your shirt. You begin to rethink why you came here. This isn’t you. Sure, you’ve been to the warped tour a few times, but this is still so new to you. You contemplate leaving when The World Is A Beautiful Place And I Am No Longer Afraid To Die begins their set. You have never heard of this band before but they sound pretty good, so you stay.
The band starts off with a light guitar melody. You instantly become intrigued. Red lights appear on stage, and the band begins to play at full force. They’ve captured you. You cannot take your eyes off the stage. You are in a trance, a state of euphoria.
Then you hear the band utter the lyrics, “The world is a beautiful place but we have to make it that way / Whenever you find home we’ll make it more than just a shelter / And if everyone belongs there it will hold us all together. / If you’re afraid to die, then so am I.”
As crazy as it sounds, those lyrics changed your life. You look over at the group of people you came with, and you notice how different everyone is but how alike you all truly are. You realize that you do belong here. It is the differences that you have that bring together the similarities you share. The Union brought you here. In The Union, you found family. You find peace in knowing that no matter what, these people, this town, this bar will always be home.
Juliana Shreiderer, Contributor
The Union was Athens’ most beloved hole-in-the-wall, a blessed escape from the crappy DJs and generic music that plague the majority of this city’s bars and entertain the majority of this university’s population.
For those of us searching for something more than the Top 40 and a feature on Bobcat MakeOUts, the Union was home. Want to check out a cool local band this weekend? Go to the Union. Want to get drunk in a place with character? Go to the Union. Want to feel smugly superior while sipping on your IPA? Go to Jackie O’s…but when that feels too crowded, go to the Union!
The Union has been a part of my college experience since the very beginning and it’s been home to a lot of “firsts” for me. It’s where I saw my first Athens show, where I saw Rocky Horror for the first time, and it’s where I experienced my first ACRN Lobsterfest.
Most importantly, it was where I first decided that Athens felt like home.
Perhaps my most significant memory of The Union was this year’s TWIABP show. The place was packed and the air was electric. People were ridiculously psyched for this show, jumping and dancing and slamming into each other.
Then, people started to crowd surf. Crowd surfing is cool, but my “mom-of-my-friend-group” instincts were telling me that The Union was not the safest place for this activity (read: low ceilings, exposed wires, drunk people with your life in their hands). But then I realized something: nobody gave a shit. The energy was so high, everybody felt invincible. It was at that moment, seeing everybody crowd surf, head bang, and go crazy that I realized that The Union was one-of-a-kind. I realized that this awesome, electric experience that I was having (along with fifty other people) isn’t something that could be found anywhere else on campus.
And so, it is for this kind of inimitable experience that I will wait for, when The Union rises again.
Jonathan Gordon, Guest Contributor
It was not until my senior year at OU that I finally formed my current band and we were playing The Union regularly. The one show that particularly stood out to me was a night I probably will never forget. It was in the middle of the school year, and my friends and I were all in bands that were reviving the DIY scene in Athens. Scott Winland let us book a whole show since we were getting a great reception from all the house shows we were booking throughout the year.
My band was then called Shower Beers. We shared the stage with our best friends in Small Steps, Mom’s Weekend, and Broken Hands, who then turned into Method Air. The turn out was great. Instead of everyone packed into a basement on Elliott Street, we were all comfortable hanging out upstairs. It was probably one of the loudest shows I have heard at The Union. People were jumping on stage during the Mom’s Weekend set to join Paul on vocals. The audience was joyfully moshing about with beers in hand as we ran up the band tab at the bar. At the end of the night we all piled into Grant’s van for a very chaotic, but short ride back to Elliott Street. I probably have never smiled bigger, or laughed harder than any other night in my four years in living in Athens.
The Union is a place I will never forget. I have so many great memories of that place that will probably never come close to rivaling any other memory in my life. So many great shows seen, a lot of friendships made, and hilarious experiences have happened there. I cannot wait till she rises again to continue changing lives, and forming life long friendships. Long Live The Union!
Mitch Rossiter, Guest Contributor
As a high school senior, I came to visit my older brother down in Athens to see what the university and small town were all about. It was Easter weekend, meaning that Athens had essentially turned into a ghost town; my brother apologized that there wasn’t much to do with everyone gone. With few options, we made our made into a local dive bar named The Union as a band called First Street Heat took the stage. As the band began to play and bar patrons made their way to the front of the room, a unique energy seemed to come over venue. Strangers danced with each other, people spilled their beer with smiles on their faces and despite a small crowd, the band went all out and played their hearts out. As a 17-year-old kid, seeing this gave me hope that I had found the town and the venue that I would want to be a part of for (at least) the next four years of my life.
Since moving to Athens, The Union has become a large part of my life. I played some of my first shows in Athens there, drank my first Genesee there, and more recently had the privilege of booking some of my favorite bands there. It has always been the go-to spot when you needed somewhere friendly and familiar to hang out and relax. Scott, AJ and countless others who are a part of the Union have helped me out significantly, whether it be helping me run a show, or giving me great life advice, I’ve always felt at home there. Long live the Union, we will rock again someday soon.
