Momentum Builds Through Repetition Of Initial Success
By Tom Seest
At Sequatchie Crossing, we tell the stories of Sequatchie Crossing.
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🎤 Audio Overview
Second Action Taken Without Needing Full Agreement
Act I – The Porch Where Nobody Meant To Start Anything
The morning began the same way most important events began in Sequatchie Crossing.
Nobody intended for them to happen.
Boot Barnes sat in his usual chair on the porch of the Valley View Diner nursing a coffee that had become less beverage and more long-term relationship. Across from him sat Clovis Strickland, holding a clipboard that had somehow survived three rainstorms, two county fairs, and an incident involving a runaway goat and a church van.
Clovis squinted at a page.
“Interesting.”
Boot groaned.
“You been saying that word too much lately.”
“It is interesting.”
“No. Interesting means paperwork is about to happen.”
Clovis tapped the clipboard.
“I’ve been reviewing observations from last week’s drainage ditch repair.”
Boot sighed.
“There wasn’t no review.”
“There absolutely was.”
“There was a shovel.”
“There was a process.”
“There was me diggin’ a hole.”
Clovis looked offended.
“A documented hole.”
Act I – The Porch Where Nobody Meant To Start Anything
A week earlier the town had watched Boot clear a clogged ditch beside Town Hall. The town had spent three days discussing whether it was appropriate, authorized, insured, documented, environmentally reviewed, historically respectful, and spiritually advisable.
Then the ditch worked.
Rain came.
Water flowed.
Nothing exploded.
The town had spent another four days trying to determine why.
Now everyone seemed strangely uncomfortable with the possibility that fixing things might occasionally work.
Mabel folded her newspaper.
“You know what worries me?”
“Everything?” Boot guessed.
“Correct. But specifically this.”
She pointed toward Town Hall.
“People are startin’ to think they can just solve problems.”
The table went silent.
That sounded dangerous.
Pastor Arnold Peeler stepped from the diner carrying a biscuit.
“What are we discussing?”
“Dangerous levels of competence,” said Mabel.
Pastor Peeler nodded thoughtfully.
“That does sound unusual.”
Across the street, chickens wandered through the grass.
Normally they moved like independent government agencies.
Today they drifted together in a calm cluster.
Nobody noticed.
Yet.
Act I – The Porch Where Nobody Meant To Start Anything
Act II – The Discovery Of Another Problem
By midmorning the Town Hall porch had accumulated its usual collection of citizens.
Sheriff Peeler leaned against a railing.
Officer Kenny Joe Teeter balanced a cup of coffee on a stack of reports.
Trixie Jo Bartlett livestreamed absolutely nothing.
Shelley Fawn Wexler took photographs of architecture nobody else could identify.
Maggie Sue Dillard and Evelyn Grace Tipton occupied matching rocking chairs.
The conversation drifted lazily until Doughboy Teeter pointed toward the courthouse lawn.
“Anybody else notice that bench?”
Everyone looked.
One leg had sunk into the ground.
The bench leaned at a dramatic angle.
A person sitting on it would gradually slide toward the east.
Sheriff Peeler nodded.
“Been that way awhile.”
“How long?”
“Depends.”
Act II – The Discovery Of Another Problem
“On what?”
“How long’s awhile?”
Nobody could answer.
Mister Wade Langston adjusted his hat.
“I recall discussions regarding the bench in 2022.”
Chester Ray Blevins frowned.
“I printed flyers about the bench in 2023.”
Lurleen Davenport nodded.
“There was a committee.”
“There was?”
“There was.”
“What happened?”
Lurleen shrugged.
“Bench remained unconvinced.”
Everyone accepted this explanation.
Boot stared at the tilted bench.
Then he stood.
No announcement.
No motion.
No committee.
He simply stood.
The group watched.
Mostly from habit.
“Where you goin’?” asked Clovis.
“Bench.”
“Why?”
“Looks crooked.”
Clovis blinked.
“That’s the entire analysis?”
“Yep.”
Boot walked toward the bench.
Nobody stopped him.
Not because they agreed.
Because they had already used all their objections last week.
Act II – The Discovery Of Another Problem
Act III – Less Observation Than Before
Normally a public repair required spectators.
This time only half the town followed.
Progress.
Boot examined the bench.
The rear leg had sunk into soft dirt.
He looked around.
“Need a shovel.”
RT Mullins appeared from nowhere.
“I got one.”
“Why?”
“Felt like somebody might need a shovel.”
“Fair enough.”
Within minutes they were digging.
Clovis arrived carrying the clipboard.
But this time he didn’t open it.
He simply watched.
Mabel noticed.
“You’re not taking notes.”
“I know.”
“Feeling alright?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“I’m gettin’ tired.”
“Tired?”
“Documenting every squirrel movement in town is exhausting.”
Act III – Less Observation Than Before
Mabel considered this.
“That’s surprisingly healthy.”
Nearby, Pastor Peeler observed quietly.
No speech.
No lecture.
No meeting.
Just a slight approving nod.
A tiny one.
Almost invisible.
Boot lifted the bench.
RT packed gravel underneath.
Doughboy added support blocks.
Shelley photographed the process.
Trixie streamed it online.
The livestream attracted seven viewers.
Four of them were accidentally watching.
Still.
Improvement.
Within twenty minutes the bench stood level.
Nobody applauded.
Nobody held a ribbon cutting.
Nobody established a task force.
The bench simply became functional.
A strange silence followed.
“Well,” said Boot.
“Well,” agreed RT.
Then everyone went back to what they were doing.
The town collectively experienced confusion.
Repairs weren’t supposed to be this uneventful.
Act III – Less Observation Than Before
Act IV – The Chickens Notice Before The Humans
That afternoon Mabel sat on her porch shelling peas.
Across the road, chickens wandered through her yard.
She watched them for several minutes.
Then she frowned.
“That’s odd.”
The birds moved together.
Not perfectly.
Not like soldiers.
But calmly.
Purposefully.
One chicken found food.
The others drifted over.
One changed direction.
The flock followed naturally.
Less chaos.
Less collision.
Act IV – The Chickens Notice Before The Humans
Less panic.
Mabel narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t like lessons from poultry.”
Across the fence Clovis appeared.
“Lessons about what?”
“Them chickens.”
He studied them.
“Huh.”
“Huh indeed.”
“They seem organized.”
“They’re chickens.”
“Exactly.”
Mabel watched the flock cross the yard.
No squawking.
No frantic running.
No random rebellion.
Just movement.
One step after another.
Clovis scratched his head.
“Maybe momentum’s a real thing.”
“Don’t start sounding philosophical.”
“Too late.”
They watched the birds disappear behind the church.
For reasons nobody understood, both felt strangely optimistic.
Act IV – The Chickens Notice Before The Humans
Act V – The Church Meeting That Wasn’t A Meeting
That evening Fellowship Church hosted what Pastor Peeler repeatedly insisted was not a meeting.
People came anyway.
The fellowship hall filled with folding chairs.
Coffee appeared.
Pie appeared.
Therefore it became a meeting.
Sister Lila Mae Hallelujah Pruitt stood near the dessert table.
“The Lord works through action.”
Mabel pointed a fork at her.
“The Lord also works through paperwork.”
“Not nearly as often.”
The room laughed.
Pastor Peeler cleared his throat.
“I’d merely like to observe that two small improvements occurred recently.”
“Without disaster,” added Sheriff Peeler.
“Without lawsuits,” added Kenny Joe.
“Without investigations,” added Clovis.
“Without committees,” added Boot.
The room grew quiet.
That last one carried weight.
Act V – The Church Meeting That Wasn’t A Meeting
Several people gasped.
Maggie Sue crossed herself.
Even though they weren’t Catholic.
“Don’t say things like that,” she whispered.
Tiffany Annette Roark leaned forward.
“What if we’re just becoming less afraid?”
Nobody answered immediately.
Because the question landed harder than expected.
The town had spent years studying problems.
Discussing problems.
Cataloging problems.
Preserving problems.
Protecting problems.
Sometimes even celebrating problems.
Actual solutions felt suspicious.
Boot stood.
“I ain’t sayin’ fix everything.”
“Good,” said Mabel.
“That’d be exhausting.”
“I’m just sayin’ if somethin’ obvious needs doin’…”
He shrugged.
“…maybe do it.”
Silence.
Then Pastor Peeler offered another tiny approving glance.
More people noticed this time.
Act V – The Church Meeting That Wasn’t A Meeting
Act VI – The Third Problem Appears Unexpectedly
Momentum, like weeds, grows when ignored.
The next morning Sonny Morales unlocked his hardware store.
Within ten minutes he discovered the issue.
The flagpole rope outside Town Hall had snapped.
The town flag hung halfway down.
Twisted around itself.
Looking mildly embarrassed.
Sonny pointed.
“There.”
Boot looked.
“Oh.”
Clovis looked.
“Oh.”
Mabel looked.
“Oh.”
Nobody suggested a committee.
Act VI – The Third Problem Appears Unexpectedly
This alone represented historic change.
Sheriff Peeler arrived.
“Can we fix it?”
The question shocked everyone.
Not because of its content.
Because it arrived before discussion.
Before debate.
Before strategic analysis.
Before emergency speculation.
Boot grinned.
“Probably.”
Sonny disappeared into his shop.
He returned carrying rope.
Kenny Joe fetched a ladder.
RT carried tools.
Shelley brought gloves.
Trixie brought a camera.
The whole thing felt alarmingly coordinated.
As though the town had rehearsed competence in secret.
“Anybody worried?” asked Mabel.
“A little,” admitted Clovis.
“Good.”
“Why?”
“Fear keeps people humble.”
The repair began.
No speeches.
No votes.
No declarations.
Just action.
Act VI – The Third Problem Appears Unexpectedly
Act VII – The Folklore Of Getting Things Done
By lunchtime rumors spread.
Sequatchie Crossing had entered dangerous territory.
People were accomplishing tasks.
The diner buzzed with speculation.
Evelyn Grace Tipton stirred her soup.
“My grandmother warned me about this.”
“About repairs?” asked Maggie Sue.
“About momentum.”
The table turned.
Evelyn rarely spoke dramatically.
“When one thing works,” she said, “people become willing to try another.”
Mabel nodded slowly.
“That’s exactly what’s happenin’.”
Chester Ray arrived carrying fresh printouts.
“What are those?” asked Sheriff Peeler.
“Nothing.”
“They look like flyers.”
“They are.”
“What for?”
Chester smiled sheepishly.
Act VII – The Folklore Of Getting Things Done
“I made a list of small things around town that could probably be fixed.”
The room froze.
A list.
A dangerous artifact.
“How many?” asked Boot.
“Only twelve.”
“Only?”
“Used to be forty-seven.”
Nobody knew whether to celebrate or panic.
Pastor Peeler examined the sheet.
Loose railing.
Missing sign.
Broken gate latch.
Library light.
Playground chain.
Tiny issues.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing requiring years of study.
Just things.
Regular things.
The kind people stop seeing.
Momentum had changed that.
Act VII – The Folklore Of Getting Things Done
Act VIII – The Town Hall Porch Decision
That evening the familiar crowd gathered again on the Town Hall porch.
The repaired bench stood proudly nearby.
The flag flew correctly.
The ditch flowed.
The chickens wandered peacefully.
A strange atmosphere filled the air.
Not excitement.
Not triumph.
Comfort.
Boot leaned against the railing.
“So what now?”
Clovis looked around.
“No idea.”
“Feels weird.”
“It does.”
Mabel folded her arms.
“I think we’re waitin’ for somebody to tell us we shouldn’t continue.”
Act VIII – The Town Hall Porch Decision
Nobody appeared.
No state inspector emerged from the woods.
No mysterious authority arrived.
No thunderbolt struck Town Hall.
Nothing happened.
Pastor Peeler smiled.
A small smile.
Rare enough to qualify as a civic event.
“Perhaps,” he said, “the lesson isn’t that every solution works.”
Everyone listened.
“Perhaps the lesson is that some solutions do.”
The porch grew quiet.
That idea felt revolutionary.
Not every effort succeeds.
Not every repair lasts.
Not every plan works.
But some do.
And that was enough.
Across the lawn Daisy the hound barked.
Three times.
Then settled beside the bench.
As if officially endorsing it.
Act VIII – The Town Hall Porch Decision
Act IX – Movement Without Permission
The next morning dawned clear.
The town awoke expecting the usual.
Arguments.
Debates.
Speculation.
Delay.
Instead something different occurred.
People simply started doing things.
Nothing grand.
Nothing historic.
A sign got straightened.
A gate got repaired.
A flower bed got weeded.
A porch board got replaced.
No announcements.
No ceremonies.
No slogans.
Act IX – Movement Without Permission
Just movement.
Clovis walked through town carrying his clipboard.
For the first time in years it remained closed.
Mabel noticed.
“You finally retired it?”
“Not retired.”
“What then?”
“Resting.”
She laughed.
“Good.”
They stopped beside the courthouse lawn.
The chickens crossed the grass together.
Calm.
Steady.
Following paths already established.
Not because they were ordered.
Because movement had become easier than standing still.
Boot passed carrying tools.
“Another repair?”
Mabel asked.
“Maybe.”
“What is it?”
“Haven’t decided yet.”
Clovis shook his head.
“That’s either inspiring or terrifying.”
“Probably both.”
Pastor Peeler emerged from the church.
He looked across town.
At the repaired ditch.
The level bench.
The flying flag.
The moving people.
Then he gave one final approving glance.
This time everyone saw it.
Nobody needed a speech.
The meaning was clear.
The first action had required courage.
The second required less.
The third required even less.
Momentum was not excitement.
It was repetition.
One useful step making the next useful step easier.
And in Sequatchie Crossing, where caution often traveled faster than progress, that realization felt surprisingly profound.
The town had not become efficient.
It had not become modern.
It had not become transformed.
It had merely taken a second step.
Sometimes that was enough.
Act IX – Movement Without Permission
Epilogue – The Bench Test
Three weeks later, visitors sat on the courthouse bench without realizing it had once been famous.
The flag flew normally.
The ditch drained normally.
The chickens behaved normally.
Everything looked ordinary.
Which was precisely the point.
Boot sat beside Clovis watching traffic pass.
“You know what happened?”
“What?”
“Nobody talks about the bench anymore.”
Clovis smiled.
“Means it works.”
“Yep.”
A long silence followed.
Then Mabel approached carrying tea.
“The town’s changing.”
Boot frowned.
Epilogue – The Bench Test
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Relax.”
She sat down.
“I don’t mean big changes.”
“What kind?”
“The kind where people stop waiting quite so long.”
The three watched the town for a while.
Across the square, Daisy slept beneath the shade tree.
Pastor Peeler chatted with Sheriff Peeler.
Shelley photographed flowers.
Trixie interviewed nobody in particular.
Life continued.
Ordinary.
Steady.
Moving.
And somewhere beyond Town Hall, a small group of chickens crossed a yard together without a single argument.
Which, according to local folklore, might have been the strongest sign of momentum yet.
Epilogue – The Bench Test
Disclaimer
The events depicted in this article occurred entirely within the fictional world of Sequatchie Crossing, where benches become civic symbols, chickens occasionally demonstrate better organizational skills than committees, and momentum is considered suspicious until proven harmless.
Any resemblance to actual people, places, poultry, government processes, or repair projects is purely coincidental. No real residents were portrayed in this story. All characters are fictional and exist solely for satirical storytelling purposes.
In Sequatchie Crossing, even the smallest improvement may eventually become folklore.
Disclaimer – Second Action Taken Without Needing Full Agreement
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:
- Swafford Septic Services
- Mission Structures
- Charles G. Jenkins Jr.
- Sequatchie County Dunlap Recycling Center
- Pickett’s Trout Ranch
- Southeast Tennessee Human Resource Agency
- Stone Creek Farm
- The Bee’s Knees
- Sequatchie County
- Waldemar Design & Machine
- Green Pond Baptist Church
- Elder’s Ace Hardware-Dunlap
- Cafe on 28
- Animal Sitting by Chloe Holloway
- Avon Representative Brandy Wilkey
- Needful Things General Store
- Three Star Cinema
- Fall Creek Bike Shop
- Dunlap Plumbing Company
- Ewtonville Baptist Church
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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