This post was originally written for a private Facebook group in early June 2025. It’s one part of a three-part series that began as a personal reflection on property tax frustration—and evolved into something broader. We’ve reproduced the content here to make it easier to access, share, and follow across the full arc of the conversation. Minor edits have been made for clarity and formatting. The tone and substance remain true to the original.
To follow the series in order, start here with Part I: The Letter → then move to Part II: The Vortex House → and finally, Part III: Facing a Hydra.
I got a letter from the county today. You may get one too. I doubt it’s going to make you happy or seem justified.
Across Gage County, assessments have gone up. That happens. Taxes go up sometimes. But they’re supposed to go up for a reason—based on facts we can understand and apply fairly. And they need to consider whether citizens can reasonably withstand those increases.
Since receiving our NOTICE OF VALUATION CHANGE, I reviewed a small, random sample of homes. I looked at four properties each in five different areas of town. The neighborhoods varied. So did the age and condition of the homes.
Still, the results were nearly identical.
Most homes had their assessed value go up between 7.9% and 9.3% this year.
Some had improvements. Others didn’t. One had a new addition. Another hadn’t been touched in ten years. They all went up just about the same.
And in nearly every case, the land value stayed flat. The increases came only from the “improvement” side—the home itself.
My own improvement value has gone up 51.8% over four years. My land value hasn’t changed at all.
This doesn’t appear to reflect actual market behavior. It doesn’t track with wages or building trends. It looks like a model—one that’s not being fed current realities.
So how are these values being determined? Why are they rising so uniformly? With what inputs, and by whose review?
Are these assessments truly individual, as they are supposed to be? Or are they being applied by default?
Let’s be clear:
- These valuation changes directly affect our property taxes.
- That means real money—whether or not your income has gone up.
- And if they keep rising at this pace, they’ll double every 7 years.
This isn’t an attack on a person, a role, or a group. It’s just cold, hard math.
Wages in Gage County haven’t doubled. Our job market hasn’t exploded. Grocery bills are high. Nationally, we’re facing a surplus of 500,000 homes, and interest rates now sit at 7.5%—two and a half times what they were just 4 years ago. Most of us aren’t living larger—we’re just hanging on.
That’s not what healthy growth looks like. That’s not fairness. That’s not good governance.
There’s been no major economic development here—no new factory, no boom in housing demand, no sudden surge in population. And we’re an aging community, not one being gentrified or rejuvenated by a wave of new families or young professionals the way urban centers or growing suburbs often are.
In fact, our population is so stagnant you could just about count the net change on two hands, based on the most recent five-year data.
So if these rising valuations are supposed to reflect a “hot market,” it’s hard to see where that’s actually happening.
If anything, it looks like these increases are being driven by something more abstract—like the declining value of the dollar itself. But if that’s the case, that’s not a local economic success. That’s just inflation. And regular homeowners can’t hedge against that.
We don’t get to “mark up” our wages. We don’t raise our incomes with a model.
And unlike the government, we don’t get to impose the costs of inflation on someone else.
So if these property tax increases are really about inflation, not value, then we’re owed something simple: a clear explanation, and a more transparent process.
Because local government doesn’t just serve the budget—it serves the people who fund it.
Let’s Talk Dollars and Cents
To make things easier to follow, I’ve rounded the numbers below to the nearest thousand. This is for clarity, not precision—your actual statement will vary slightly.
In 2021, our assessed value was $198,000 and our property tax bill was $3,752. Four years later, in 2025, our assessed value is $300,000.
If the effective tax rate holds around 1.8%, that means:
$300,000 × 0.018 = $5,400
That’s a projected increase of $1,648 per year compared to 2021—before any changes to services or the home itself.
Monthly Impact $1,648 ÷ 12 = $137.33 per month
Not for new services. Not for home upgrades. Just a paper increase—backed by a model, not by wages, income, or market reality.
Here’s the Brass Tacks
We’re not the only ones facing pressure. But like many of you, we’re seeing what this means in real life—and it’s hitting hard, no matter your income, background, or neighborhood.
We bought in a market that favored sellers—sure, at a lightly inflated price. But the interest rates seemed to justify it, and we were lucky to lock one in. I truly feel for anyone facing this now under less favorable conditions.
When we moved into this house, our mortgage was about $1,400 a month. That felt manageable. Normal. But now, just four years later, between increased property taxes and rising insurance costs, we’re looking at a monthly payment closer to $2,200.
That’s a $800 monthly increase for the same house, without a single new improvement.
Insurance, by the way, deserves its own conversation. If you’re frustrated by what the County thinks your home is worth, go ask your insurer what they think it’s worth.
We did.
Our home would likely sell at or just below what we paid. But our insurer requires us to carry coverage based on a replacement factor of around 1.65—and their number can be based in part on County assessments and construction benchmarks. So while the insurer is responsible for their own models, these taxes drive the data. We are insuring a home that assessed 4 years ago at less than $200,000, now being taxed at $300,000, and insured as if it’s worth nearly $600,000. This assessment alone stands to raise our insurance rates by another 15% to 16%—not because of real value added, but because these models feed each other.
We don’t control that number. We don’t agree with it. But we have to pay for it. And the gap between “what it’s worth” and “what we’re billed for” just keeps growing.
It’s worth asking: if this feels unfair to me—and I’m just one person—how many others feel the same, but haven’t said anything yet?
It’s Not Just Homeowners. Renters Feel This Too.
And let’s be clear: this isn’t just a homeowner problem.
If you’re a renter, you’re not protected from these increases. You’re downstream from them.
When a landlord raises the rent without updating the appliances, without repainting the walls, or without adding a square foot—yes, that can feel frustrating. And it’s a fair question to ask: Why does rent go up if nothing’s changed?
But that is the argument.
Nothing has changed—and yet the cost still rises. That’s what property owners are facing too.
Taxes go up. Insurance premiums go up more. Escrow accounts fall short. And when that happens, landlords often pass along those rising costs just to break even.
And because the system often bills us late—by catching up on what we ‘owe’ from months earlier—the increase doesn’t feel gradual. It lands hard.
So when your landlord raises rent by 15%, and you feel like you’re being taken advantage of—just remember:
- Their taxes might have gone up by 9%, and
- Their insurance will have gone up even more,
- Causing the escrow account to be short, so their mortgage payment might jump 15% to 20% overnight—just like your rent.
We’re all in this chain. No one escapes it.
What We’re Facing, Together
That $800. That’s a 57% increase in housing costs in four years.
And it didn’t come from building an addition, upgrading a kitchen, or buying a bigger home. It came from:
- Steady tax hikes, and
- Insurance companies assigning values we can’t contest.
It’s hard enough to make peace with a system you understand. But when the rules are unclear, when the numbers feel detached from reality—and when nearly every year, over and over, they rise again, no matter what—something has to give.
We can’t fix what we don’t talk about. And I say that as someone still figuring this all out. I’m still new in town—haven’t even nailed down a proper mowing pattern in my yard yet.
So I’m not pretending to have all the answers. I’m just hopeful that people more seasoned, more civic-minded than I am might take notice too. Because if we don’t start asking questions now, we might not like the answers we get later.
If this raised questions for you, you’re not alone. Many did. That’s what led to the next post: an unexpected case study that gave this conversation a focal point. Read on if you’re curious.
3 thoughts on “The Letter”