About a half mile outside of downtown Athens, sandwiched between apartment complexes and the bustling music haven of Nu�i’s Space, there stands a quiet and unassuming red steeple – the remains of a converted Episcopalian church.

At first glance, it’s not much more than an eyesore.

If only those walls could talk, this would be their story.

On April 5, 1980, Michael Stipe, Mike Mills, Peter Buck and Bill Berry gathered in this setting to play for their friend Kathleen O’Brien’s birthday party.

R.E.M. was born.

Since that famous night, the band and the building have encountered different fates. The steeple is all that remains of the birthplace, standing decrepit and forlorn, while R.E.M. is soon to stand shoulder to shoulder with fellow musical gods in Cleveland’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame.

“From the outset they were always unique,” said longtime Athens producer David Barbe, who has worked with the band on many occasions. “I can’t ever remember them being touted as the new version of anything else.”

Local musicians are quick to agree.

“R.E.M. was very natural and acoustic sounding, as well as having a striking simplicity,” said JoJo Glidewell of current Athens sensationModern Skirts. “That beauty and simplicity is something my band strives for every time we write a song.”

As R.E.M. took off throughout the ’80s, the town of Athens seemed to follow closely, becoming the musical mecca that it remains today.

“It is not a stretch to say that the long-term success of R.E.M. has greatly contributed to the explosion of music-related opportunity in what could easily be just another mid-size college town,” Barbe commented.

Last week’s announcement of the bands enshrinement into the Hall of Fame drew high praise in town, with the meaning of such an accomplishment not lost on the town’s musical powers-that-be.

“Being inducted says that an artist has made music that has had an effect on the lives of millions of people,” Barbe said. “I think that one thing that sets R.E.M. apart from a lot of previous inductees is the fact that they are still more about pushing forward than looking back.”

But the induction also raised questions, notably among the younger generations in town.

With each passing year and every new crop of Athenians that call this place home, does R.E.M.’s impact have a danger of fading away? Is this still “their town?”

“The myth is dead. R.E.M. and Athens are bitterly divorced,” wrote one blogger upon hearing the news, citing that the band has not played a show in town, other than a few surprises, in many years.

To this sentiment, Barbe and Glidewell can only shake their heads.

“Anybody who would grumble about R.E.M. owing Athens anything is delusional,” Barbe said.

“The band and the town remain linked because of their involvement here, both musically and as a good citizen,” he continued, citing the members’ involvements in local charity and politics and frequent sightings at local music events.

Glidewell said a normal appearance is impossible.

“R.E.M. couldn’t reasonably play an advertised show in Athens; there is no venue that could handle that,” he said.

It makes no difference to him, however, on what the band means to the town.

“What they gave music has had a remarkable and lasting impact on music and our lives as Athenians.”

The myth is not dead – it will outlast the steeple, the critics and the band’s lifetime. But rest assured that as long as there is Athens, there will always be R.E.M.