We are taught history abstractly as a time-line; sequentially. In reality, history presents itself as an accumulation of layers of happenings and occurrences. These layers are present in the built environment of the city as it is today.

Similarly, the layers of culture are present in the daily rituals and language of the present.

In the case of a train station, layers present themselves as layers of velocity. It is the place where pedestrians, automobiles and trains converge and individuals move between varying degrees of motion.

The challenge in the built world today is to make a place for all layers of motion, but in a hierarchical fashion so that the individual (the pedestrian) is honored. If the pedestrian is relegated a place below machines which facilitate movement, then the city suffers.

"In the narrow streets of the medieval town, persuasion is mainly through the sight and smell of real cakes in the window. On the commercial strip the supermarket windows contain no merchandise. [there are signs instead]"

• Robert Venturi Learning from Las Vegas

When the automobile is given the place of honor, the sign is more important than the experience. The speed at the motorist scale does not allow for any experience other than symbol or sign. This reduces the sensual experience of the individual's life and results in the collective loss of place and rootedness. Just as the individual's memory can be triggered by smells, sounds or textures, the city's memory is also made of these things.

Americans seem to be constantly in search of roots. The majority of objects and places in American cities seems to cater to the motorist scale and for this reason there can be no roots. At best there is only a symbol for roots, like a coat of arms with no meaning.