Predictions Became Facts Before Facts Existed
By Tom Seest
At Sequatchie Crossing, we tell the stories of Sequatchie Crossing.
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🎤 Audio Overview
The House Worth Less Before It Was Built
The House Worth Less Before It Was Built
Act I – The Porch Forecast
The argument began on the front porch of Maggie Sue Dillard’s diner three months before anyone had actually built anything.
That was considered plenty of time in Sequatchie Crossing.
By local standards, three months was practically history.
Boot Barnes sat in his usual chair beside a stack of laminated maps that nobody had asked to see.
Daisy the hound slept under the bench.
Clovis Strickland unfolded a yellow legal pad.
“I’ve already got six property value theories,” Clovis announced.
You made them up?” asked Maggie Sue.
“I researched them.”
“Where?”
“Mostly comments sections.”
Maggie Sue sighed.
Across from them, RT Mullins nearly spilled his coffee.
As the town’s most enthusiastic real estate agent, he had been smiling for three consecutive days.
“Property values are definitely going up.
Clovis pointed a finger.
“See? That’s Theory Number One.”
RT frowned.
“That ain’t a theory. That’s economics.”
“It’s economics until somebody disagrees.”
Boot adjusted his glasses.
Act I – The Porch Forecast
“Back in seventy-nine we had three people predict a shopping center would destroy property values.”
“What happened?” asked Maggie Sue.
“It never got built.”
RT grinned.
“Exactly.”
Boot nodded.
“Then property values still went up.”
Clovis scribbled furiously.
“Told you. Nothing proves a theory better than an event that never happened.”
Daisy raised her head briefly.
Then went back to sleep.
A pickup truck rolled past.
The driver slowed long enough to yell:
“I heard houses near the project already lost twenty percent!”
RT jumped up.
“Which houses?”
The truck disappeared.
Nobody knew.
The statement immediately entered local folklore.
Within fifteen minutes it became:
“Several houses.”
Within an hour:
“Most houses.”
By supper:
“Every house within three counties.”
And by bedtime:
“Somebody’s cousin had to sell his barn for half price.”
The barn did not exist.
Neither did the sale.
But the prediction was now being discussed as a historical event.
“That was fast,” Maggie Sue observed.
Boot nodded.
“The future always moves quicker than the present around here.”
Act I – The Porch Forecast
Act II – Town Hall and the Mathematics of Worry
The next evening, Town Hall filled beyond capacity.
Mayor Bea Crowe stood at the podium.
Lurleen Davenport organized papers.
Dr. Neil Cowgill carried charts.
Coach Freddie Stubblefield somehow arrived wearing a whistle despite no athletic event being scheduled.
Shelley Fawn Wexler brought herbal tea.
Brett and Alyssa Crenshaw arrived carrying reusable water bottles.
Mabel Dean Ashcroft entered carrying skepticism.
The room quieted.
Mayor Crowe cleared her throat.
“We are here to discuss the proposed development.”
“Data center,” somebody shouted.
“Industrial complex,” shouted another.
“Opportunity center,” replied someone else.
“Electronic fortress.”
“Tax machine.”
“Server farm.”
“Computer warehouse.”
Act II – The Mathematics of Worry
Mayor Crowe rubbed her temples.
“We are discussing the same building.”
That seemed unlikely.
Dr. Cowgill stepped forward.
“Historically, large developments can influence property values in multiple ways.”
Mabel crossed her arms.
“That’s professor talk for nobody knows.”
“Essentially.”
“I appreciate honesty.”
Dr. Cowgill continued.
“Some communities see increases due to jobs and investment. Others see concerns related to traffic, aesthetics, or infrastructure.”
Coach Freddie nodded.
“That’s exactly like football.”
No one understood.
Coach continued anyway.
“Everybody predicts victory before kickoff.”
“What does that have to do with property values?” asked Lurleen.
“Nothing. I just felt it needed saying.”
Shelley raised a hand.
“I think we’re overlooking energetic consequences.”
Several people groaned.
Shelley ignored them.
“Every structure changes the emotional landscape.”
Brett nodded enthusiastically.
Alyssa nodded slightly less enthusiastically.
Mabel stared.
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Neither do I,” admitted Shelley.
“But it sounds important.”
From the back of the room, Tiffany Annette Roark stood.
“Has anybody got actual numbers?”
Silence.
No one did.
The meeting continued for three hours.
No new facts appeared.
The number of certainties doubled.
Act II – The Mathematics of Worry
Act III – The Sheriff Investigates Reality
At the sheriff’s office, Sheriff Peeler sat behind his desk while Officer Kenny Joe Teeter pinned papers to a bulletin board.
The papers contained rumors.
There were many.
Sheriff Peeler stared at one.
“Where’d this come from?”
Kenny Joe shrugged.
“Facebook.”
Sheriff nodded.
“That explains nothing.”
Another page claimed property values would triple.
Another claimed they would collapse.
A third claimed nobody would own property anymore because artificial intelligence would own everything.
Sheriff pointed.
“What about that one?”
“Facebook again.”
“Figures.”
Daisy wandered into the office.
Nobody knew why.
Act III – The Sheriff Investigates Reality
She sat beneath the bulletin board.
Sheriff Peeler leaned back.
Let’s try something radical.
“What?”
“Facts.”
Kenny Joe blinked.
“Seems risky.”
The sheriff grinned.
“Maybe. Let’s see.”
They spent the afternoon calling county offices, reviewing public records, and reading planning documents.
By sunset they had accumulated a stack of actual information.
Unfortunately, the stack was significantly smaller than the rumor pile.
Kenny Joe stared at the comparison.
“People really prefer rumors.”
“They’re easier.”
“Facts take effort.”
“Exactly.”
Daisy yawned.
The sheriff pointed at her.
“See that dog?”
Kenny Joe nodded.
She don’t care if values rise or fall.”
“That’s because she’s a dog.”
“Exactly. She reacts to reality.”
Kenny Joe considered this.
“That’s surprisingly profound.”
“No it ain’t.”
“Still sounds profound.”
Act III – The Sheriff Investigates Reality
Act IV – The Church of Competing Certainties
Sunday morning arrived.
At First Unaffiliated Missionary Temple Church, Pastor Arnold Peeler stood before a packed congregation.
The topic had followed everyone to church.
As topics often did.
Pastor Peeler adjusted his glasses.
“Today I’d like to discuss certainty.”
Several people immediately assumed he was discussing the development.
He was.
But indirectly.
“The trouble with certainty,” he said, “is that people often become certain before they’ve earned it.”
Mabel nodded.
Clovis nodded.
They were certain for different reasons.
Pastor continued.
“A person can fear a thing that hasn’t happened.”
Several heads nodded.
“A person can celebrate a thing that hasn’t happened.”
Act IV – The Church of Competing Certainties
Several other heads nodded.
“A person can become angry about a thing that hasn’t happened.”
Everybody nodded.
The church laughed.
Sister Lila Mae “Hallelujah” Pruitt stood up.
“Hallelujah! That’s half the town right now.
Amen,” replied Pastor Peeler.
Sister Lila Mae sat back down.
Then immediately stood again.
“Hallelujah anyway.”
The congregation laughed.
Pastor smiled.
“The point isn’t whether a project is good or bad. The point is remembering that predictions are not evidence.”
Mabel whispered to Clovis.
“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”
Clovis whispered back.
“No, you’ve been saying it was definitely bad.”
“Well.”
“That’s different.”
“It is not.”
The sermon concluded.
Nobody changed their mind.
But several people became slightly less certain.
In Sequatchie Crossing, that counted as progress.
Act IV – The Church of Competing Certainties
Act V – The Goat Market Index
The town’s unofficial goat lived behind Mister Wade Langston’s property.
Nobody technically owned it.
The goat simply existed.
Like weather.
Or paperwork.
That afternoon, Mister Wade watched the animal standing beneath a large oak tree.
The goat appeared perfectly content.
Trixie Jo Bartlett arrived carrying a notebook.
“What are you studying?”
“The goat.”
“Why?”
“I’m trying to determine its opinion on property values.”
Trixie laughed.
“You finally gone crazy?”
“Maybe.”
The goat ignored both of them.
It remained in the shade.
A crowd slowly formed.
Clovis appeared.
Then Boot.
Then Tiffany.
Act V – The Goat Market Index
Then Sonny Morales.
Within twenty minutes, eight adults were watching a goat.
The goat continued being a goat.
RT arrived.
“What’s happening?”
“The goat has selected a position.”
RT stared.
“That’s a tree.”
“Exactly.”
“And?”
Clovis pointed dramatically.
“If property values were important, the goat would move.”
RT rubbed his forehead.
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
The goat shifted slightly.
Everyone gasped.
Then it sat back down.
Mister Wade laughed so hard he nearly fell over.
“The goat only cares about shade.”
Boot nodded.
“Most practical creature in town.”
Trixie wrote that down.
“The goat values comfort over speculation.”
“That’s probably true for most people,” said Tiffany.
Nobody argued.
The goat had accidentally made the strongest point yet.
Not one person in town actually lived inside a property value chart.
They lived inside homes.
Act V – The Goat Market Index
Act VI – Lunch at Maggie Sue’s
The diner became headquarters for every side of the argument.
Which made lunch exhausting.
Maggie Sue balanced plates while attempting not to referee.
Sonny Morales delivered tacos from his food truck parked outside.
Business was excellent.
Conflict was good for lunch sales.
At one table sat Brett, Alyssa, and Shelley.
At another sat Mabel, Boot, and Clovis.
RT floated between both groups like a nervous diplomat.
Brett gestured enthusiastically.
“Growth can be positive.”
Mabel responded immediately.
“Growth can also be stupid.”
Alyssa nodded.
“Both statements are true.”
Shelley sipped tea.
Act VI – Lunch at Maggie Sue’s
“I feel we’re focusing too much on economics.”
“That’s because the topic is economics,” said Tiffany from another table.
Shelley ignored her.
RT stepped into the middle.
“Can we all agree property values aren’t determined by one thing?”
Silence.
People considered it.
Dr. Cowgill arrived carrying papers.
“Actually he’s correct.”
Mabel sighed.
“Don’t encourage him.”
Dr. Cowgill sat down.
“Schools matter. Roads matter. Jobs matter. Demand matters. Perception matters.”
Clovis leaned forward.
“So you’re saying everybody’s partly right.”
“Unfortunately.”
“That’s unsatisfying.”
“Reality often is.”
The diner fell quiet.
Even Maggie Sue stopped moving.
Nobody enjoyed hearing that complicated things were complicated.
Simple answers sold better.
Reality rarely cooperated.
Act VI – Lunch at Maggie Sue’s
Act VII – Chester Ray Prints the Future
At Chester Ray Blevins’ print shop, the laminator hummed like a sacred machine.
Chester Ray hated QR codes.
He trusted paper.
Paper had never required software updates.
Today he was printing competing flyers.
One group wanted flyers predicting prosperity.
Another wanted flyers predicting disaster.
Both had paid cash.
Chester Ray considered that fair.
Boot entered.
“How many versions you printed?”
“Seven.”
“Seven?”
“Future’s competitive.”
Boot laughed.
Chester Ray held up one flyer.
Act VII – Chester Ray Prints the Future
PROPERTY VALUES WILL SOAR.
Then another.
PROPERTY VALUES WILL CRASH.
Then another.
NOBODY KNOWS ANYTHING.
Boot pointed.
“That third one seems closest.”
“It sold the least.”
“Of course it did.”
People preferred certainty.
Even incorrect certainty.
Especially incorrect certainty if it sounded confident.
Clovis entered carrying new theories.
Chester Ray groaned.
“Please tell me you ain’t making more flyers.”
“I got three fresh predictions.”
“Good grief.”
Boot smiled.
“At this rate we’ll have more forecasts than houses.”
“Already do,” said Chester Ray.
And unfortunately he was probably correct.
Act VII – Chester Ray Prints the Future
Act VIII – The Porch Debate
A week later, residents gathered on Boot Barnes’ porch.
The porch had hosted arguments for decades.
Some were eventually resolved.
Most simply became tradition.
Present were Boot, Clovis, Mabel, Tiffany, RT, Trixie Jo, Dr. Cowgill, Shelley, Brett, Alyssa, Sonny, Mister Wade, and Coach Freddie.
Daisy slept beneath a rocking chair.
The discussion began immediately.
RT spread maps.
“Look at comparable communities.”
Mabel frowned.
“We ain’t comparable.”
“Everybody says that.”
“Because it’s true.”
Dr. Cowgill chuckled.
“It usually isn’t.”
Act VIII – The Porch Debate
Coach Freddie leaned forward.
“What if property values go up for some people and down for others?”
The porch became silent.
Nobody liked that possibility.
It lacked drama.
Clovis pointed.
“That’s too reasonable.”
Tiffany laughed.
“Exactly why nobody’s discussing it.”
Shelley looked toward the mountains.
“What if the community changes in ways we can’t measure?”
Mister Wade nodded.
“Now that’s actually worth discussing.”
RT sighed.
“Can somebody help me out here?”
Sonny grinned.
“No.”
The entire porch laughed.
For once, nobody seemed angry.
Only thoughtful.
The conversation continued into sunset.
People shared concerns.
People shared hopes.
Nobody convinced anyone.
Yet everyone listened.
That alone felt unusual.
Act VIII – The Porch Debate
Act IX – The Building That Still Wasn’t There
Months passed.
Approvals continued.
Meetings continued.
Predictions multiplied.
The proposed project still wasn’t built.
Yet people discussed it as though it had existed for years.
One evening, Town Hall hosted another gathering.
The same faces returned.
Mayor Crowe stood at the podium.
“We’ve spent months discussing outcomes.”
The room nodded.
Mayor continued.
“And we’ve learned something important.”
“What?” asked Clovis.
Act IX – The Building That Still Wasn’t There
“We don’t know the future.”
The room laughed.
Mayor smiled.
“I mean it.”
Dr. Cowgill stood.
“Communities often imagine outcomes before evidence exists.”
Mabel crossed her arms.
“Because evidence takes forever.”
“Correct.”
RT stood.
“I still think values may rise.”
Several people nodded.
Others frowned.
Mabel stood.
“I still think some people may be disappointed.”
Several people nodded.
Others frowned.
Pastor Peeler stood.
“I think both statements can be true.”
That irritated nearly everyone.
Which usually meant it was worth considering.
Sheriff Peeler stepped forward.
“We’ve reviewed facts, rumors, studies, and speculation.”
“And?” asked Tiffany.
“And nobody can guarantee the future.”
Silence followed.
The statement felt disappointingly accurate.
Outside Town Hall, the goat wandered across the lawn.
It stopped beneath a tree.
Again choosing shade.
Again ignoring economics.
Again demonstrating a principle nobody wanted to admit.
Life continued whether predictions succeeded or failed.
Homes remained homes.
Neighbors remained neighbors.
The building still wasn’t there.
Yet people had already spent months living inside imagined versions of it.
Some imagined prosperity.
Some imagined decline.
Some imagined both.
The future remained stubbornly unavailable.
And no amount of arguing could make it arrive early.
Act IX – The Building That Still Wasn’t There
Epilogue – The Value of the Conversation
Weeks later, Boot Barnes sat on his porch with Daisy sleeping nearby.
The evening air drifted through town.
Across the valley, lights flickered on one by one.
Clovis arrived carrying another notebook.
“Got a new theory.”
Boot laughed.
“Of course you do.”
Clovis sat down.
“You know what I figured out?”
“What?”
“The argument wasn’t really about property values.”
Boot nodded.
He had reached the same conclusion.
“It wasn’t?”
“Nope.”
“What was it about?”
Epilogue – The Value of the Conversation
Clovis looked toward town.
“People trying to decide what kind of future they want.”
Boot smiled.
“That’s probably right.”
Below them, the diner glowed.
Town Hall lights shined.
The church steeple stood against the darkening sky.
The sheriff’s office remained lit.
Life continued.
The development remained uncertain.
The future remained unwritten.
But Sequatchie Crossing had once again transformed a complicated issue into months of discussion, friendship, disagreement, rumor, coffee, paperwork, porch meetings, church conversations, and accidental wisdom from a goat.
Which, in its own peculiar way, was one of the town’s most valuable traditions.
Not because anybody won.
Not because anybody lost.
But because the conversation itself reminded people that communities are built long before buildings are.
And sometimes predictions become facts in people’s minds long before facts have a chance to become facts.
The goat, meanwhile, continued valuing shade.
And so far, nobody had produced a chart capable of changing its opinion.
Epilogue – The Value of the Conversation
Disclaimer
This story is a work of fiction set in the fictional town of Sequatchie Crossing. All characters, events, businesses, organizations, and incidents depicted are fictional and created for entertainment, satire, and storytelling purposes. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, real businesses, government entities, or real events is purely coincidental.
The story explores community discussions surrounding growth, development, property values, and public opinion through fictional characters representing a variety of viewpoints. No position expressed by any character should be interpreted as factual analysis, investment advice, legal advice, real estate guidance, or an endorsement of any actual project or development.
As with many Sequatchie Crossing Dispatch stories, the events are intended to use humor, small-town observations, and fictional situations to examine how communities react to uncertainty, change, rumors, expectations, and competing predictions. The goat’s opinions, while occasionally persuasive, should not be considered professional economic forecasting.
Disclaimer – The House Worth Less Before It Was Built
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:
- Home Town Inn Soddy-Daisy
- Circle K
- Big Dog Development
- SRM Concrete
- King Of It Construction
- Watershed Public Theatre
- The Butter Dish
- Fain Farm
- Way of the Cross Baptist Church
- JM Lawncare
- Dunlap Dental Center
- Chris Albright
- Dunlap Church of Christ
- Greer’s Family Dentistry
- American Roofing Company
- C.F Cleaning Services
- The Chef’s Restaurant
- Kat’s Naturals
- John Pauls Cycle Shop
- Martins Mold Remediation
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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