As a lifetime resident of Jackson, I have logged countless trips to the old train depot on South Royal Street. I have visited as a little girl barely tall enough to see all of the old train memorabilia, as a teenager looking for something dangerous to do while walking the train tracks, as a newly engaged woman taking engagement photos on the old box cars, and as a young mom desperately trying to entertain little ones on hot summer days — and the history of the depot is not lost on me. I know that, for nearly two centuries, the station served as a connection point. The trains took men to war, goods to market, small town people to bigger cities and new opportunities. As I parked in the lot in front of the depot last week and stood in front of the big green doors I have seen so many times before, this place felt different. The outside looks much the same, but the way it made me feel was unfamiliar. Something is happening inside those walls that drew me in and the whole place feels very much alive. There is a purpose, really a person, behind that energy. A woman has put feet to a dream, and our whole community has a front row seat to watch her dream unfold.