The grass growing between the steel tracks reveals this small mill town's still waiting for the arrival of change.
Yet, the answer isn't coming in the form of cargo.
Among Opelika's visionaries is Richard Patton who refuses to remain idle in an effort to revive the community.
"I never thought I would come back to Opelika after leaving for school," Patton said, echoing generations of young adults who swear off their hometowns. "I thought I was done with it forever."
At that time, he felt suffocated by his suit and tie job in Birmingham. Corporate insurance left him empty because it lacked Patton's passion for music.
"I hated everyday that I went into work," said Patton. "I was making more money than I knew what to do with, but I wasn't happy."
As he now sits in the overall Company coffee shop surrounded by like-minded people, he's at ease with tousled blond hair and worn blue jeans.
"My mother called me, and that house that's on the corner of 2nd Avenue with the columns is what brought me back home," said Patton, recalling 1995.
Barbara Patton, prior to becoming Opelika mayor, needed her son's help to transform the historic, but dilapidated, Heritage House into a functioning bed and breakfast.
Even while running the Heritage House bed and breakfast, he still felt there was something missing in the community.
"I knew that if I was going to live and stay here, I needed places to go that I would enjoy," Patton said. "Opelika needed a nightlife."
After nine successful years in the bed and breakfast business, his mother put the Heritage House back on the market. Yet, Opelika was still business by day and empty by night.
"I had a building downtown that was a fitness center and I sold off all the fitness stuff," Patton said. "I decided to make a bar that I would actually want to go to."
The timing was perfect for Patton and his wife, Mary, to indulge in their shared love of music. Together they opened Eighth and Rail, a tavern and cafe, in 2001. Eighth and Rail led the downtown nightlife revival, and people started to take notice.
"If everything went right in my life, I probably would still be running Eighth and Rail," he said.
However, a divorce from Mary in early 2011 drove Patton a crossroad. The thought of spending time alone surrounded in the environment they built was too difficult, so he decided to sell the name and building in 2011.\0x2028"I thought since my marriage was over, the music part of my life might be over," Patton said.\0x2028He spent the following months contemplating the next chapter of his life. It was either run away to Greenville, S.C., or delve into the properties he had bought right across the tracks from Eighth and Rail. "I prayed to God for guidance," Patton said. "I asked him to close doors if it wasn't right to stay, but doors flew wide open."
\0x2028He decided to pursue this opportunity and invest into the 14 pieces of property he owned in down- town Opelika to cultivate the arts community.
"I was reminded that there was life to be lived regardless of Mary," said Patton. "I fell back in love with music for what it really was. Instead of being painful, it became beautiful and uplifting again."
Patton felt the shift in his life come together at his grand opening of the The Railyard in May 2012, at which more than 1,500 people attended. The new art gallery and music venue serve as the beginning of his vision for the art district.
"Eighth and Rail was about me," Patton said. "Now it's all about what I can do for the community." With the help of other Opelika residents like Rob Slocomb, friend and band member of Martha's Trouble, Patton has turned his attention to another integral piece of Opelika's renaissance.\0x2028"I'm opening a building that's open to all creative that just need a space," Patton said. "It'll serve as an incubator where they can all gather."
He plans for this creative hub to foster artists to feed off one another's energy. Ultimately, creating something more powerful.
"It's a daily fight for me because everything I own is invested in those buildings over there," said Patton, revealing the risks of his vision. "For me to put this all together and survive financially is a tough battle."
When asked what motivates him to get up every morning, he begins to roll up the sleeve of his black- and-white checkered shirt.
"I'll show you," he said, exposing a simple tattoo on his left forearm.
It reads, "On purpose, for a purpose."
"I had to realize that no matter who we are, we were all made for a reason," Patton said. "There's a reason why I'm here."
Although he's part of an army of individuals pushing for Opelika's renewal, Patton serves as a drummer boy for the pack. He shares future plans to recruit those willing to listen.
And if you listen closely, his song sounds like an awaited train carrying change.
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