The Great Mural Debate – Paint Fumes, Patriotic Chickens, and a Rival Vision in Latex Primer
By Tom Seest
At Sequatchie Crossing, we tell the stories of Sequatchie Crossing.
Please share this post with your friends, family, or business associates.
🎤 Audio Overview
The Great Mural Debate – Paint Fumes, Patriotic Chickens, and a Rival Vision In Latex Primer
What began as an innocent beautification initiative quickly spiraled into a paint-splattered fiasco that left Sequatchie Crossing divided—artistically, emotionally, and in one case, physically (due to a poorly positioned ladder and a startled pigeon).
It started when the Sequatchie Arts & Utility Pole Enhancement Committee proposed a mural on the west-facing wall of the VFW. The chosen theme: “Heritage & Harmony.” A committee was formed. Subcommittees emerged. Public input was invited, then immediately regretted.

The Great Mural Debate – Paint Fumes, Patriotic Chickens, and a Rival Vision In Latex Primer
Shelley Wexler submitted a design featuring a glowing crystal barn floating above the Tennessee River, surrounded by spirit animals and celestial quilting patterns. She called it “Stitching the Cosmos.”
Boot Barnes countered with a proposal depicting the founding fathers—plus one rooster in colonial garb—harvesting hay beneath a bald eagle. He titled it “Freedom Crowed at Dawn.”
Trixie Jo Bartlett drew a series of cartoon goats protesting taxes with signs that said “BLEAT for Liberty.”

Clovis Strickland insisted the mural include a hidden map of government surveillance towers “for transparency.” He submitted a blueprint featuring 47 triangles and a squirrel holding a walkie-talkie.
The town was split. The wall, meanwhile, remained primer gray.
At a town meeting, tensions rose:
- Mabel Dean Ashcroft called Shelley’s floating barn “new-age nonsense.”
- Shelley called Mabel “a creative obstructionist.”
- Clovis attempted to hijack the projector and was tackled by Officer Kenny Joe Teeter, who spilled sweet tea on the laptop.
Despite the chaos, a vote was held. Shelley’s design won by two votes (Trixie had traded favors for extra ballots in the form of glitter coupons).
Painting began at sunrise. Shelley, flanked by her spiritual support cat Basil, outlined her cosmic barn in lavender haze and compostable chalk.

Conclusion
That night, Boot and Clovis returned with rollers and latex primer, claiming they were “reclaiming patriotic space.” Half the barn vanished by morning.
By Thursday, mural amendments were happening in shifts:
- Shelley repainted stars.
- Clovis added coded coordinates.
- A local teenager spray-painted a UFO.
- Boot painted a chicken holding a Constitution.
A painter’s duel broke out on Friday afternoon. Shelley wielded a paintbrush in each hand like a symphonic maestro. Clovis had a five-gallon bucket labeled “ANTI-PROPAGANDA WHITE.”
Mayor Wilburn Otis Hargrove finally stepped in with a new policy: a mural moratorium until a public art board could be formed “with no more than three and no fewer than 12 members, all of whom must pass a colorblindness test.”

The mural, as of this morning, features:
- Half a glowing barn
- One and a half bald eagles
- Two goats in powdered wigs
- And a cryptic message in Morse code that translates to “Bless this mess.”
Boot’s organizing a repainting drive. Shelley’s applying for a grant. Trixie’s selling stickers.
And the VFW has hung a large banner that simply reads: “It’s the thought that counts.”
At Sequatchie Crossing, we tell the stories of Sequatchie Crossing.
Please share this post with your friends, family, or business associates.
Disclaimer: This story is entirely fictional, including all the parts that I made up. Any resemblance to real people, living or just stubborn, is purely accidental—but also maybe a little flattering. Sequatchie Crossing exists only in the minds of those brave enough to imagine a town where zoning laws, casseroles, and conspiracy cassettes collide in glorious disarray.












0 Comments