Business as Usual: Examining why the Chief Ladiga Trail stops short of original plan

The Chief Ladiga Trail ends near Lenlock. Photo: Stephen Gross/The Anniston Star
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Last week's column on the economic impact of the Silver Comet Trail in Georgia and what it could mean for the Chief Ladiga Trail, swept about promises of sunshine and riches, but it dodged the big-money question.
Why does Ladiga grind to a halt on the northern end of Anniston? Where is the smooth and gentle path into the city, the one that will take all those Atlanta-area cyclists — as they part with their cash — on into the Amtrak Station for a nice and easy ride back to the ATL?
Excuse me for side-stepping the issue, but it is truly a complicated and, OK, not a wholly happy affair.
Here's the business in a nutshell: The city was trying to negotiate a deal to buy the 5-plus-mile strip of old rail line from the Norfolk Southern Company. This went on for several years. During this time Norfolk Southern floated two offers, both were understandably rejected by the city as being too costly.
Meanwhile, both the city and Norfolk Southern were engaged in an official process with an entity called the Surface Transportation Board, a government agency charged with, among other things, reviewing proposed abandonments, which makes it relevant to our discussion here. (Many years ago Congress set up this process which allows for the orderly transfer of long stretches of rail lines for such uses as bike paths.)

In March of this year, the STB issued an order (read the order here:
http://www.stb.dot.gov/decisions/readingroom.nsf/WEBUNID/9EDDF7D57AA1067C8525757F0051B390?OpenDocument) that essentially ended the process.
"This issue is over as far as STB is concerned," said an official at the agency. "We no longer have jurisdiction. That's the end of it."
The ball, apparently, was dropped somewhere along the line, and that is too bad because turning the old Norfolk Southern line into an extension of the Ladiga Trial would have been so much easier under the STB process.
But it appears not to have been the complex process with STB or the missing of any deadline that was the main issue here, but NSR's asking price and the company's demands that fried the deal, according to several local leaders.
Can you say $2.2 million? That's what NSR wanted, according to former Anniston City Attorney and Manager George Monk, an amount he described — in volcanic terms — as outrageous and ridiculous.
"I computed that out," said Monk, "and I found that's more than the Anniston Industrial Park is worth. It was an outrageous amount, especially considering they have a long record of donating land for such causes or selling at reasonable prices."
Finally, Monk says, his one and only contact at Norfolk Southern, a man named Alex Rocca, informed him the company would take $400,000 for the land, but only if the city agreed to close the F Street crossing.
That was something Monk said was equally ridiculous.
The current city attorney put it more diplomatically.
"The railroad tried to use this process to get the city to close a crossing," city attorney Cleo Thomas wrote in an email to The Star. "They put a high price on the right of way but my sense was that was a mechanism for negotiating a crossing closing."
Monk said one of his greatest frustrations with Norfolk Southern was his inability to get past Rocca, apparently an omnipresent figure in Monk's life during the negotiating period, but a mysterious one for a newspaper reporter who was told by higher figures at Norfolk Southern (who also wished not to be quoted) that Rocca was not authorized to speak to the media.
One figure in Anniston, who requested anonymity because he was not authorized to speak publicly about the affair, vented frustration at the railroad.
"That land wasn't worth anything," he said. "The city was trying to negotiate with Norfolk Southern and the rail company put an extraordinarily high price on the land."
Referring to Norfolk Southern's push to close the F Street Crossing, he said, "That's not so easy or even smart. You close crossings and you isolate parts of the city. How do you plan police protection and fire protection for that?
"Norfolk Southern walked away from the property," he continued. "They just didn't seem to have a lot of interest in the benefit to the local community."
In the end, the city refused to close the crossing and refused to even entertain the $2.2 million offer and the orderly process at STB came to an end.
The one person at the railroad who would talk about this issue on the record, John Baker, a spokesman in Montgomery, said that although Norfolk Southern "fully supports the concept of rails-into-trails and would like to see the Chief Ladiga extended through the city of Anniston, the company will not give the land away for nothing."
That might be a moot point, however. It could be, now that the STB process is kaput, that the land has reverted to the adjoining property owners.
The big question is: does Norfolk Southern own the title to the property outright (or in "fee simple" as it is known) or does it only have a right of way across the property?
(Under the STB process, that distinction was irrelevant. Had the city and Norfolk Southern made a deal when the process was still ongoing, the whole line would have conveyed regardless of the title question.)
Surprisingly, no one seems to know the answer to the prickly title question, and until someone does a proper title abstract of the land it is likely to remain a mystery. Even the railroad confesses ignorance.
As Baker put it, "there are patches of line in Alabama where there is no record of title whatsoever. No one knows."
All, however, is not lost.
In Polk County, Ga., a similar situation happened concerning a CSX line between Cedartown and Rockmart, about a 20-mile stretch. Determined supporters of the Silver Comet Trial, notably Joe Anderson, a retired attorney, and Ed McBrayer, the founder of the PATH Foundation in Atlanta, managed to knit the trail together by approaching individual landowners.
It was a lengthy process, but as last week's column showed, it has paid off for Polk County at least.
Depending on who actually owns the land, the same approach might be called for in Anniston.
Business as Usual is a Monday column by John Fleming, The Star's editor at large. Send suggestions for items to: johnfleming2005@bellsouth.net. In other business
The Calhoun County Chamber of Commerce tells us that, on Sept. 2, from 9 a.m. — 6 p.m., the Calhoun County Society for Human Resource Management will have a clinic at the City Meeting Center with classes on interviewing, job hunting, resume writing, personal financial management and other topics of interest. Some employers will be exhibiting as well.
Also, with a push from State Sen. Del Marsh, the Chamber received a $75,000 grant from the Alabama Department of Economic and Community Affairs for its efforts to retain jobs in the community.
• Back on the health care front, as the White House backs away from any talk of a so-called public option because of criticisms such as it could create a monopoly, it is worth remembering that in Alabama, Blue Cross Blue Shield controls more than 80 percent of the market.
There's no need to get too worked up about it though. A monopoly is usually defined as: "Exclusive control by one group of the means of producing or selling a commodity or service."
Eighty percent is not exclusive.
Thanks for that article.
We are looking for some leadership from our elected city council.