Issue Resolved Before Formal Consideration Could Begin
By Tom Seest
At Sequatchie Crossing, we tell the stories of Sequatchie Crossing.
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🎤 Audio Overview
Problem Addressed Directly Without Preliminary Discussion
Act I – The Discovery of a Problem That Had Already Lost Its Chance to Become One
The matter began on a Tuesday morning behind the Town Hall of Sequatchie Crossing, though later arguments would insist it started much earlier.
By eight o’clock, Eugene “Boot” Barnes was already halfway through his second cup of coffee and examining the back lot beside Town Hall with the quiet concentration of a man who had spent his entire life noticing things that nobody else considered worth noticing.
Daisy the hound accompanied him.
The dog stopped suddenly.
She barked once.
Then twice.
Then she trotted toward a section of split rail fence lying flat on the ground.
Boot squinted.
“Well I’ll be.”
Daisy sniffed the broken boards, wagged her tail, and immediately lay down in the grass.
Her role in the matter was complete.
Boot walked over.
Three fence posts had collapsed during the previous night’s thunderstorm. Nothing dramatic. Nothing dangerous. But the fence separated Town Hall property from the grassy lot where Coach Freddie Stubblefield occasionally held youth conditioning drills.
A fence laying flat on the ground wasn’t much of a fence.
Boot looked around.
Nobody was there.
He set his coffee on a stump.
Then he started working.
Across Main Street, Clovis Strickland emerged from Chester Ray Blevins’ print shop carrying a stack of papers.
He stopped.
He watched.
Boot pulled the first broken post.
Then the second.
Then the third.
Clovis frowned.
He crossed the street.
“Boot.”
“Mornin’.”
“What form did you fill out?”
Boot looked up.
“For what?”
“The fence.”
“What about it?”
Clovis pointed.
“You can’t just repair municipal infrastructure.”
Boot removed another nail.
“Looks like I am.”
Clovis stared.
“Was there a meeting?”
“No.”
“A proposal?”
“No.”
“A recommendation?”
“No.”
“A planning committee?”
“No.”
Clovis blinked.
“No documentation at all?”
Boot thought about it.
Act I – The Discovery of a Problem That Had Already Lost Its Chance to Become One
“Nope.”
“Interesting.”
Boot hammered a brace into place.
Clovis looked disturbed.
Not because Boot was repairing the fence.
Because nobody had required paperwork.
This violated what Clovis considered the natural migration pattern of local government.
Meanwhile Chester Ray Blevins exited the print shop.
“What’s happenin’?”
“Boot’s fixing the fence.”
Chester nodded.
“Good.”
“No permit.”
“Even better.”
“No documentation.”
Chester looked genuinely impressed.
Boot continued working.
The matter should have ended there.
Instead, Clovis became curious.
Curiosity in Sequatchie Crossing had caused considerably more trouble than malice ever had.
By nine o’clock he had informed Sheriff Peeler.
By nine-fifteen he had informed Officer Kenny Joe Teeter.
By nine-thirty he had informed Mabel Dean Ashcroft.
And by ten o’clock half the town was discussing a problem that technically no longer existed.
Act I – The Discovery of a Problem That Had Already Lost Its Chance to Become One
Act II – The Historical Perspective
Mabel Dean Ashcroft sat on her porch shelling peas when Clovis arrived carrying his concerns.
The porch had hosted enough conversations over the decades to qualify as an unofficial government annex.
Mabel looked up.
“You’re carrying that face.”
“What face?”
The one that says you’ve discovered something unusual and are trying to decide whether to be pleased or worried.
Clovis sat down.
Boot repaired the Town Hall fence.
“Good.”
“Without paperwork.”
Mabel continued shelling peas.
“Good.”
“No meeting.”
“Good.”
“No committee.”
“Excellent.”
“No preliminary discussion.”
Mabel finally stopped.
She looked at him over her glasses.
“Clovis.”
“Yes?”
“That’s how it used to be.”
He frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean if a gate broke, somebody fixed it.”
“What if there wasn’t consensus?”
“About a broken gate?”
“Yes.”
Mabel laughed.
The laugh echoed down the porch.
“Son, nobody used to hold strategic planning sessions regarding fence posts.”
Clovis considered this.
“It seems risky.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Why not?”
Because everyone already understood the objective.
She dropped peas into a bowl.
“Fence stands up.”
“That’s the objective?”
“Usually.”
Clovis stared into the distance.
This simplified things more than he preferred.
Complicated systems made him comfortable.
Simple systems made him suspicious.
Mabel pointed toward Town Hall.
“How’s the fence look?”
“Pretty good.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
Act II – The Historical Perspective
Clovis opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
That was the difficulty.
The visible evidence suggested success.
The process merely lacked ceremony.
A pickup truck rolled by.
Inside sat Mister Wade Langston.
He slowed.
“What y’all discussin’?”
“Boot fixed the fence.”
Wade nodded.
“Good.”
“No paperwork.”
Wade smiled.
“Even better.”
Then he drove away.
Mabel resumed shelling peas.
You’re gonna spend all day studying something that got fixed before breakfast.
Clovis sighed.
“I probably am.”
“I know.”
Act II – The Historical Perspective
Act III – Emergency Interest in a Non-Emergency
By lunchtime the matter had reached the diner.
If information entered the diner, it rarely escaped unchanged.
Trixie Jo Bartlett occupied her usual booth.
Tiffany Annette Roark sat across from her.
Shelley Fawn Wexler occupied a neighboring table with Maggie Sue Dillard and Evelyn Grace Tipton.
RT Mullins carried plates between tables.
The conversation had already spread.
Trixie stirred her tea.
“So Boot fixed it.”
“Apparently.”
“Good.”
Shelley looked over.
“Clovis says there wasn’t a process.”
Maggie laughed.
“The process was Boot.”
RT stopped beside the table.
“That man can repair half a building before most folks locate a clipboard.”
Tiffany nodded.
“That’s true.”
The front door opened.
Boot entered.
The room quieted.
Not because anyone feared him.
Because everyone wanted confirmation.
Boot sat down.
RT brought coffee.
“How’s the fence?”
“It’s standing.”
“That’s all?”
“Mostly.”
Trixie leaned forward.
“Did anybody authorize you?”
Boot sipped coffee.
“No.”
Shelley smiled.
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
Maggie laughed.
“Did anybody stop you?”
Act III – Emergency Interest in a Non-Emergency
“No.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“Sounds efficient.”
Boot shrugged.
“Needed fixin’.”
The diner collectively processed this statement.
It contained neither strategy nor philosophy.
Yet it somehow explained everything.
The door opened again.
Pastor Arnold Peeler entered.
He listened for a moment.
Then someone asked him.
“What do you think?”
Pastor Peeler looked toward Boot.
Then toward the others.
He nodded once.
That was all.
The room accepted the judgment.
Pastor Peeler’s single nod carried roughly the same authority as a forty-page consultant report.
Possibly more.
Act III – Emergency Interest in a Non-Emergency
Act IV – The Meeting About Whether a Meeting Was Needed
At two o’clock, several people gathered inside Town Hall.
Nobody officially called the gathering.
It simply occurred.
Which was ironic given the topic.
Sheriff Peeler stood near the window.
Officer Kenny Joe Teeter sat at a folding table.
Dr. Neil Cowgill arrived carrying a notebook despite having no medical reason to attend.
Coach Freddie Stubblefield leaned against the wall.
Lurleen Davenport brought cookies.
Mabel arrived last.
“Why are we here?” she asked.
Clovis stood.
“To determine whether procedures should exist for future fence situations.”
The room went silent.
Sheriff Peeler rubbed his forehead.
“What future fence situations?”
“Theoretical ones.”
Coach Freddie looked confused.
“The fence is already fixed.”
“Correct.”
“So we’re discussing the next broken fence?”
“Potentially.”
Dr. Cowgill raised a hand.
Act IV – The Meeting About Whether a Meeting Was Needed
“As a physician, I should note that preventative thinking has value.”
Mabel nodded.
“True.”
The doctor smiled.
Then she continued.
“But we’re not discussing disease. We’re discussing a board.”
The smile disappeared.
Lurleen passed cookies around.
Officer Kenny Joe examined one.
“I got a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“If somebody fixes a thing before anybody meets, what exactly are we meeting about?”
Nobody answered immediately.
The silence lingered.
Finally Sheriff Peeler spoke.
I believe we’re attempting to determine whether successful action should have required prior unsuccessful discussion.
Everyone considered this.
Even Clovis.
The statement was difficult to argue with.
Outside, Daisy the hound wandered past the window.
She glanced inside.
Seeing no food.
She continued walking.
Act IV – The Meeting About Whether a Meeting Was Needed
Act V – The Arrival of Facts
Late afternoon brought a development.
Boot appeared carrying photographs.
He placed them on the table.
“Thought y’all might want these.”
Clovis looked down.
Before photographs.
After photographs.
Broken fence.
Fixed fence.
Simple.
Clear.
Undeniable.
Boot pointed.
“Storm damage.”
Then another.
“Repair.”
Then another.
“Finished.”
Mabel smiled.
“Looks good.”
Coach Freddie nodded.
“My kids can use the field again.”
Sheriff Peeler examined the pictures.
“How long’d it take?”
“Couple hours.”
Act V – The Arrival of Facts
“And how long have we discussed it?”
Nobody answered.
RT, who had wandered in carrying pie from the diner, checked his watch.
“About five hours.”
The room became quiet again.
Dr. Cowgill adjusted his glasses.
“That ratio seems unfavorable.”
“Which ratio?” asked Kenny Joe.
“Time spent discussing versus time spent solving.”
Everybody looked at Boot.
Boot looked uncomfortable.
Not because of attention.
Because he wanted to leave.
His work was done.
The meeting represented a completely different hobby.
One he did not practice.
Act V – The Arrival of Facts
Act VI – Sister Lila Mae Interprets Events
That evening several townspeople gathered outside the church.
Sister Lila Mae “Hallelujah” Pruitt stood beneath the oak tree beside the entrance.
She had heard the entire story three different ways.
Which meant she had effectively heard six different stories.
“Now let me understand this.”
Clovis sighed.
Here we go.
“Boot repaired a fence.”
“Yes.”
“Immediately.”
“Yes.”
“And afterward people assembled to discuss the possibility of discussing similar fences.”
“More or less.”
She clasped her hands.
“My stars.”
“What?”
“This may be the most human thing I’ve heard all year.”
Pastor Peeler smiled slightly.
Sister Lila Mae continued.
“We pray for solutions.”
“Yes.”
“We receive solutions.”
“Yes.”
“Then we form committees to examine the solution.”
Nobody argued.
Because nobody could.
Mabel laughed loudly.
“That’s exactly what happened.”
The church bell rang the hour.
A breeze moved through the trees.
For a moment everyone simply stood there.
Then Sister Lila Mae pointed toward Town Hall.
“Fence still standing?”
“Yes.”
“Then perhaps the fence understands more about efficiency than we do.”
Act VI – Sister Lila Mae Interprets Events
Act VII – The Proposal Nobody Expected
The next morning Clovis arrived carrying papers.
This worried several people.
Papers generally meant momentum.
The gathering occurred once again at Town Hall.
Boot reluctantly attended after being persuaded there might be coffee.
There was.
So he stayed.
Clovis cleared his throat.
“I have prepared a recommendation.”
Several groans emerged.
“It is only one page.”
The groans softened.
He held up the paper.
“Proposed Direct Action Recognition Guideline.”
Mabel nearly fell out of her chair laughing.
“You made paperwork about not needing paperwork?”
Clovis looked thoughtful.
“Possibly.”
Sheriff Peeler took the page.
He read silently.
Then aloud.
‘When a problem is obvious, understood, and safely correctable, citizens may address said problem without preliminary discussion.’
The room blinked.
Kenny Joe looked impressed.
“That sounds reasonable.”
Mabel laughed even harder.
“Clovis, you documented common sense.”
“I may have.”
Pastor Peeler read over the sheriff’s shoulder.
Then nodded once.
Act VII – The Proposal Nobody Expected
Again.
The second nod carried as much weight as the first.
Clovis brightened.
“Do you approve?”
Pastor Peeler smiled.
It appears you’ve written down what everyone already knew.”
Mabel pointed.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The entire story.”
Everyone already knew.
That was the issue.
The understanding existed before the paperwork.
Before the meeting.
Before the proposal.
Before the discussion.
Boot had simply acted on it first.
Act VII – The Proposal Nobody Expected
Act VIII – The Test Case
As fate often arranges in Sequatchie Crossing, another opportunity arrived.
Not twenty minutes later.
A loose sign outside Chester Ray’s print shop tilted sideways after a gust of wind.
Nothing dangerous.
Nothing dramatic.
Just crooked.
The entire group noticed it simultaneously.
They stopped walking.
Then they looked at one another.
Then they looked at Clovis.
Clovis looked at the sign.
Then at his freshly written guideline.
Then at Boot.
Boot sighed.
“Don’t look at me.”
“Why?”
“Because this ain’t my sign.”
Finally Chester Ray emerged.
Act VIII – The Test Case
He looked upward.
“Huh.”
Then he grabbed a ladder.
Three minutes later the sign stood straight.
No meeting.
No proposal.
No committee.
No documentation.
The crowd watched.
Mabel smiled.
“There.”
Clovis nodded slowly.
“There.”
Sheriff Peeler folded the guideline.
“I think we’ve completed field testing.”
Kenny Joe grinned.
“Successful outcome.”
Even Clovis laughed.
“Successful outcome.”
For perhaps the first time in twenty-four hours, nobody attempted to analyze anything further.
Act VIII – The Test Case
Act IX – Understanding Arrives Last
That evening the town settled into its normal rhythm.
Porches filled.
The diner served supper.
The church lights glowed softly.
The sheriff’s office completed paperwork regarding matters that genuinely required paperwork.
Boot sat on Mabel’s porch.
Daisy slept nearby.
The dog had not contributed since her initial alert.
She had no intention of starting now.
Clovis joined them.
For a while nobody spoke.
Finally he broke the silence.
“I think I understand.”
Mabel smiled.
“Took you long enough.”
Clovis ignored that.
“The fence wasn’t really the issue.”
“No.”
“The issue was whether understanding already existed.”
“Correct.”
Boot sipped coffee.
Clovis continued.
“If everyone already knows the right thing, preparation becomes unnecessary.”
“Sometimes,” said Mabel.
“If the action is obvious.”
“Right.”
“If the objective is shared.”
“Right.”
“If the solution is understood.”
“Right.”
Boot finally spoke.
“Then somebody oughta do it.”
The statement hung in the air.
Simple.
Plain.
Almost irritatingly straightforward.
Act IX – Understanding Arrives Last
Yet nobody could improve it.
Pastor Peeler happened to be walking home.
He paused at the porch.
“Evenin’.”
“Evenin’.”
He listened.
Then smiled.
“People often believe understanding begins with discussion.”
Nobody interrupted.
“Sometimes discussion merely reveals understanding that already existed.”
He tipped his hat.
Then continued home.
The porch fell quiet.
The sun lowered behind the hills.
Daisy opened one eye.
Determined nothing required barking.
Closed it again.
The town seemed unusually peaceful.
Not because nothing had happened.
Because something had happened before anybody could complicate it.
Act IX – Understanding Arrives Last
Epilogue – The Fence That Never Became a Topic
Several weeks later visitors occasionally admired the repaired fence.
Most assumed the town had organized some sort of improvement project.
Others imagined grants.
Committees.
Strategic planning.
Perhaps consultants.
The truth disappointed people who preferred elaborate explanations.
A board had broken.
A man had noticed.
A dog had barked.
The man fixed it.
Everything afterward merely attempted to catch up with what had already occurred.
Epilogue – The Fence That Never Became a Topic
Clovis eventually framed his Direct Action Recognition Guideline and hung it inside Town Hall.
Not because it changed anything.
But because it amused him.
Visitors often read it.
Then laughed.
Then nodded.
Mabel claimed that was the most efficient government document ever produced.
Sheriff Peeler agreed.
Pastor Peeler nodded once.
He was busy repairing a handrail behind the diner.
Nobody had asked.
Nobody had scheduled a meeting.
Nobody was surprised.
And somewhere nearby Daisy the hound observed the activity for approximately four seconds before deciding the matter appeared under control.
Then she lay down in the grass.
Which, in Sequatchie Crossing, was generally considered the highest level of official approval available.
Epilogue – The Fence That Never Became a Topic
Disclaimer
This story is a work of fiction. Sequatchie Crossing, its residents, businesses, organizations, and events are fictionalized for storytelling purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, or to real events is purely coincidental. The characters appearing in this story are recurring fictional characters created for the Sequatchie Crossing Dispatch universe and are intended as satire, humor, and commentary on small-town life, community traditions, and human nature.
Disclaimer – Problem Addressed Directly Without Preliminary Discussion
Real Places Behind the Ruckus – From The Dunlap Directory
Real Places Behind the Ruckus – From The Dunlap Directory
Yes, this story was fictional; even the parts that weren’t true. These places? Absolutely real. Stop by, support local, and keep the Wi-Fi away from livestock:
- Daniels Business Solutions
- Dunlap Church of God
- Fireside Camp + Lodge
- Standefer-Reed Funeral Home
- John Pauls Cycle Shop
- Chase Painting
- El Metate
- Backwoods Fence and Decking
- Hall Church Of Christ
- Amy Painter Photography
- Running Wild Inflatables
- Red’s Innovations TN
- Volunteer Eyecare
- Best Western Dayton
- S & S Farmers Market
- Wendy’s
- Gaston Custom Fence
- Tennessee Dude & Guest Ranch
- Flowers & Thyme
- Living Water Plumbing
Real Places Behind the Ruckus – From The Dunlap Directory
At Sequatchie Crossing, we tell the stories of Sequatchie Crossing.
Please share this post with your friends, family, or business associates who may want follow the news from Sequatchie Crossing.
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