In recent weeks, we’ve talked and written extensively about property tax valuations in Gage County. What began as general concern over sharp increases and vague explanations has grown into something more: a shared investigation into the integrity of the underlying data.
As many of us began researching our own valuations, we discovered something troubling. During the protected statutory protest period, key data in the official property records changed. Dwelling components like porches, decks, and fireplaces disappeared or were replaced with “N/A.”
That discovery changed the conversation. We were no longer just questioning fairness—we were confronting a breakdown in the legal and procedural safeguards meant to protect taxpayers.
In response, on Monday, June 16, I filed a formal complaint with the Nebraska Property Tax Administrator. A courtesy copy was also delivered to the Tax Equalization and Review Commission (TERC) to ensure full awareness. Independently and together, these offices oversee the rules, procedures, and outcomes that govern the property tax system. This followed a letter sent to Senator Myron Dorn’s office earlier last week.
We know, through first-hand accounts, that the Assessor’s Office acknowledged complaints of missing or altered data during the protest period—and confirmed to at least one property owner that they were working with MIPS to correct the issue. That person reported multiple conversations and was told when the fix was underway. Within 24 hours, some of the missing data began to reappear.
I take these accounts in good faith. If accurate, they reflect transparency. Whatever broader concerns remain, that degree of responsiveness from the Assessor’s Office warrants recognition.
And if we accept them as accurate, we must also accept the underlying admission—and the consequences that followed—as fact. The only alternative is to believe that private citizens embellished details they had no way of knowing. I find that far less plausible.
The “Vortex House” appears to have been the first publicly observed case of disappearing data. We know the owners came forward to several people shortly after the article was published—just before changes to their property record became visible online. Within days, similar anomalies began appearing across the county.
These changes did not originate from gWorks.com, the vendor that hosts public access to the county’s records—commonly known as the front end or user interface. A display-layer error would have affected all properties simultaneously. Instead, the nature and timing point to a backend data issue—specifically, changes made to the underlying property records themselves.
Taken together, these accounts strongly suggest the data instability was not isolated. Anomalies appeared across unrelated properties as early as June 6 and continued through at least June 16. Given that sequence—and how the software operates—I believe the initial alteration to the Vortex House record could have triggered a cascading effect, one that modified multiple, and possibly all, property records during the statutory protest window.
This was the first year Gage County deployed a completely new software system—one designed to apply valuation templates and record changes uniformly across similarly flagged parcels. If fields like “porch,” “deck,” or “Dwelling Data” were globally suppressed or relabeled “N/A,” those changes likely propagated through batch processes running silently in the background.
Between June 5 and June 16, I heard from dozens of property owners who reported that their data had also changed to “N/A.” My own property record changed on June 10. While researching comparable parcels during that same period, I found similar anomalies across nearly 40 properties in my neighborhood, Belvedere—before I stopped looking.
One record brought to my attention had even been upgraded from “Badly Worn” to “Fair” on June 6, shortly after the owner visited the courthouse to request a protest form—and before her Dwelling Data changed to “N/A.” That condition change has remained active for more than two weeks of the protest window—and still has not been corrected.
Meanwhile, agricultural property owners in the northern half of the county—an area the County had previously said was already complete for 2025 valuations—reported seeing data collectors on their land as recently as May. This raises further questions about whether assessments were finalized in time, and whether this year’s valuations rest on a stable, complete, or consistent foundation.
At this moment, I have deployed every countermeasure available. We’ve documented, submitted, and formally challenged the procedural breakdowns that, in our view, have undermined both equity and legality in Gage County’s 2025 assessments.
With those actions in motion, my focus now turns to a core personal and statutory right: protesting my own property valuation. That process has only just begun, and I’m told I will be contacted for a meeting with a ‘referee.’ As I understand it, this person is an independent reviewer contracted by the County to examine protest findings and relay them to the Board of Equalization, which ultimately makes the final determination.
Everything I’ve heard about this part of the process has been encouraging. Property owners have described their meetings with the referee as respectful, productive, and well-organized. That’s worth acknowledging. For all the frustrations that led us here, this piece of the system appears to be working as intended.
Before I close this update, I want to thank the many people who’ve stepped forward throughout this process. I’ve already had the chance to thank several in person, and I look forward to meeting the rest. Each day for more than two weeks, I’ve received thoughtful, detailed research—often not just about their own parcels, but about others across the county. Many shared findings, flagged anomalies, or recounted their experiences navigating the protest system. Without their insight and generosity, we’d all know far less about this part of our lives that quietly returns each year.
We can’t lose sight of this issue heading into the upcoming elections—we need to begin pressing now for legislative reform to address the root of these systemic problems. The patterns we’ve seen, particularly within Gage County, suggest that what’s happening now is just the beginning.
If the same modeling logic holds, the city of Beatrice should prepare for dwelling value increases of 25 to 30 percent this time next year.
The increase that’s coming next year is already visible. Homes in towns and villages like Wymore, Odell, Clatonia, Barneston, Filley and more now show a striking alignment between their current county valuations and the figures shown on popular real estate platforms.
If you live in Beatrice and want a preview of where your assessed value might land next year, visit zillow.com and check your Zestimate.
Yes, that Zestimate. It’s not an appraisal. It’s not even a competitive market analysis (CMA). It’s a marketing-driven estimate powered by an algorithm that blends recent sales with active listing prices, then distributes those elevated assumptions across nearby “comparable” homes—even if they haven’t sold. Once one home sells, the model acts as if the whole neighborhood just went up with it. It’s intentionally lofty—designed to make your home feel more valuable, to keep you watching, and maybe even thinking about listing.
It also increases what’s known in digital marketing as dwell time—how long you stay on a page or platform. The longer you linger, the more ads are seen, the more listings are promoted, and the more revenue that activity generates. The Zestimate isn’t just informative—it’s engineered for engagement.
But in towns where new valuations have already landed, that lofty estimate isn’t far off. In many cases, it matches county assessments almost exactly. One property in Wymore I’ve been tracking, for example, now shows just a 0.45% difference between its Zillow Zestimate and the official county valuation completed less than six weeks ago. That level of alignment is tighter than the counties budget compared to the Consumer Price Index.
That alignment signals something important: we may be moving from condition-based valuation to algorithm-based projection. And if that projection is built to overestimate, homeowners in Beatrice should expect a similar jump—one based not on real sales or real changes, but on modeled assumptions and upward momentum.
However you try to square the alignment—whether Zillow is updating using the County’s number or the other way around—this fact remains: both entities are incentivized to produce a number that only goes up. They’re unattached from the relationship in every other way but as beneficiaries.
Renters, this matters for you too. When property taxes jump 25 to 30 percent—and insurance costs rise alongside them, as they often do—landlords may not be able to absorb the difference. If they escrow, a mismatch between last year’s valuation and the new one can trigger an abrupt spike in their monthly payments. Even if nothing about the property has changed, your rent could rise just to cover that shock.
Now is the time to prepare, to ask questions, and to understand how valuation shifts can cascade into your lease. You and your landlord might both benefit from keeping a closer eye—so neither of you gets caught off guard.
And when valuations rise within Beatrice and its higher-density neighborhoods, the effect doesn’t stay contained—it ripples outward, raising the baseline for surrounding towns and rural areas all over again. The cycle repeats. This system consistently outpaces the real market because it’s designed to. Individual downward corrections barely register, while even modest market improvements get amplified—pushing valuations higher countywide, regardless of local condition or actual sales activity.
It’s self-fulfilling: once enough records reflect a higher value, that number becomes the new floor. Not a ceiling to reach—just the baseline to clear.
Every time.
This can’t be contained.
It should be stopped.
— Max
Looking ahead, I want to share one other note—a teaser, if you will:
I’ve been quietly working on a separate investigative thread since late 2024—one that hasn’t yet been made public. Some of you may already be affected by it. Many more likely will be. The findings are, frankly, more staggering than anything we’ve discussed so far. And the implications go well beyond individual cases—they raise deeper, institutional questions.
The Hollowman Files.
I’ll be back with more on that in 30 to 60 days.