Each budget was adopted with growth driven largely by rising personnel costs, expanded public safety staffing, capital maintenance demands and inflation-adjusted operating expenses rather than major new service lines.

Much of that growth has been incremental, rather than abrupt. The general fund increased to $88.1 million in 2023-24 and $93.8 million in 2024-25 before crossing the $100 million threshold in 2025-26, with annual increases ranging from about 4% to 6%. Throughout that period, commissioners repeatedly funded across-the-board step increases and cost-of-living adjustments for county employees, committing more than $1 million per year to compensation alone in recent budgets to retain staff amid regional labor shortages.

Capital planning has also remained a consistent pressure point. Approved budgets show recurring capital and capital improvement needs ranging from about $4.1 million to $5.8 million annually, covering vehicles, equipment and deferred maintenance at county facilities, jails, recreation complexes and libraries.

Commissioners have generally relied on pay-as-you-go funding, capital reserve transfers and targeted fund balance expenditures to address those needs, keeping non-education debt as a relatively small share of overall expenditures.

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Taken together, the budgets reflect a county that has grown more expensive to operate but has so far avoided sharp fiscal shocks — until last year.

During the county’s previous property revaluation, which took effect for the 2021-22 fiscal year, commissioners opted not to go with a revenue-neutral rate amid rising property valuations; the revenue-neutral rate was 34.47 cents per $100 in assessed value, but commissioners settled on a 36-cent rate. For the next three years, that rate increased to and remained at 38 cents. For the latest revaluation, which was reflected in the current budget, the revenue-neutral rate was 26.89 cents per $100; however, commissioners went with 31 cents.

Although the current rate is far lower than the previous 38 cents, the 31-cent rate actually represents a whopping tax increase, as property values have skyrocketed since the last revaluation. Before the 2025 revaluation, the total value of taxable property in Jackson County was roughly $11.45 billion. After the revaluation, the total value increased by almost $7 billion, or about 60%.

Canopy MLS said last December that the median sales price of homes in Jackson County jumped 7% year-over year to $395,000, with the average sales price climbing 64.6% to more than $745,000 — among the highest in the region.

Further expansion of county government seems imminent, as commissioners voted 4-1 to leave the decades-old Fontana Regional Library system over LGBTQ content. That means that as of July 1, county government will, for the first time ever, be getting into the library business by operating Jackson County’s two existing libraries.

The vote to withdraw from the FRL was fueled by falsehoods, slander and spin by agitators from outside Jackson County and was made over the overwhelming opposition of people who spoke at multiple public comment sessions against withdrawal. The Smoky Mountain News and the Sylva Herald were recently threatened by an anonymous email from supporters of the withdrawal for reporting on the issue.

Initially, the county projected a $500,000 increase in operational costs attributable to the library. On Jan. 20, commissioners voted 4-1 to put the rubber on the road, transferring $350,000 from fund balance to pay for some of the equipment that will be needed to operate the library.

Commission Chair Mark Letson was the only commissioner to vote against the library withdrawal and was the only commissioner to vote against spending the $350,000.

The real cost of separation won’t become fully apparent until the formal separation takes place this summer — or until commissioners start working on the 2026-27 budget later this winter — however, Letson recently told SMN that he expects the true cost could be triple the initial $500,000 estimate.

But the library issue isn’t the first issue where most commissioners failed to heed the will of the people.

Jackson County’s handling of its Confederate monument sparked intense debate and questions about transparency in government when, in April 2025, county employees removed plaques that had been added as a compromise in 2021 to cover the Confederate flag and the words “Our Heroes of the Confederacy” on the statue known locally as “Sylva Sam” — without a vote or public discussion by the commissioners.

An attorney for the North Carolina Press Association told The Smoky Mountain News that commissioners had “without question” violated the public policy of the state of North Carolina. Andy Jackson, director of the conservative Civitas Center for Public Integrity — a brand within the broader John Locke Foundation — said the move “likely violated North Carolina’s open meetings law.”

Beyond budgets, commissioners have also been forced to confront how cultural and governance controversies intersect with Jackson County’s economy and civic reputation.

Tourism remains one of the county’s most significant economic drivers. According to business owners and tourism stakeholders, fights over LGBTQ inclusion and the handling of the Confederate monument risk undermining Jackson County’s appeal to visitors, second-home owners and potential employers by producing measurable downstream effects on lodging, hospitality employment and long-term investment in the county.

Governance itself has also emerged as an issue. Chronic meeting absences by commissioners Jenny Hooper and John Smith over the past two years — plus Smith’s violation of state law by skipping state-mandated ethics training — prompted questions about accountability and whether candidates view attendance as a baseline responsibility of the job.

Education, infrastructure and quality-of-life issues also surfaced during the interview process, though less prominently than fiscal and cultural disputes.

Some candidates raised concerns about school funding priorities and the county’s working relationship with the Jackson County school board, while others pointed to the importance of maintaining constructive relations with the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians given the tribe’s economic and cultural ties to the county.

Broadband access in rural areas, persistent shortages of affordable housing and childcare and ongoing development pressures affecting the Tuckasegee River were likewise cited by some candidates as issues that merit greater attention from county government — even if they have not dominated recent board debates.

District 1

Unlike some counties in North Carolina, Jackson elects its county commissioners by district. Currently, District 1 is represented by Todd Bryson, who has decided not to run again.

Four Democrats have filed for Bryson’s seat — John Herrera, Julie Painter, Casey Walawender and another who did not respond to a request for an interview — suggesting that Democrats sense an opportunity to reclaim the seat.

Herrera’s path to the District 1 race runs through poverty, incarceration and recovery before arriving at professional legal work, a trajectory he said gives him a grounded view of how county decisions affect people with the least margin for error.

John Herrera. File photo

Born in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas, Herrera grew up traveling for agricultural work with his parents, who were undocumented at the time but have since rectified their status. His childhood involved frequent moves across Southern states, including extended periods working tobacco in Madison County. Stability was rare, and exposure to addiction, domestic violence and economic insecurity was common. Herrera has described that environment as one where chaos was normalized early, shaping how he learned to survive rather than plan.

As a young adult, Herrera struggled with substance abuse and was incarcerated on drug-related charges, serving roughly 16 months in “gladiator school” at what used to be called Polk Correctional Institution in Butner.

After his release, he experienced a period of instability that included about a year of homelessness in Asheville. During that time, he relied on public spaces, libraries and informal networks while attempting to rebuild his life and re-enter school and the workforce. Herrera has said those experiences forced him to confront both personal responsibility and the ways institutional failures compound one another.

That period became a turning point rather than an endpoint. Herrera has now worked for more than a decade as a paralegal specializing in civil litigation. He holds two degrees from Southwestern Community College, including one in paralegal technology — graduating magna cum laude. His professional work centers on statutory compliance, deadlines and procedural correctness, disciplines he argues are essential in public office.

“Procedure is everything,” Herrera said.

That belief drives his criticism of how county commissioners handled the removal of interpretive plaques from “Sylva Sam.” While Herrera has said he personally opposes honoring Confederate soldiers, he argues that commissioners acted improperly by removing the plaques without a public vote or discussion, exposing the county to legal risk and eroding trust regardless of intent. He thinks the plaques should be replaced.

“If they violated any sunshine laws,” Herrera said, “then I could just hold my hands up and say, ‘Hey, I didn’t do it. Y’all did it. I’m just fixing it.’”

The same process-first lens shapes his opposition to the county’s withdrawal from the Fontana Regional Library system. Herrera has said the decision saddled the county with long-term financial obligations while dismantling a regional structure that previously distributed costs and professional expertise. More than the cultural arguments surrounding the issue, he has focused on what he views as a failure to follow established norms in governance.

Looking ahead, Herrera has said that rejoining the FRL system must be approached realistically, especially in light of a now-dysfunctional FRL board.

Any attempt to reverse course, he argues, must be grounded in vote counts and timing rather than campaign rhetoric, and should focus on minimizing further financial exposure in the interim.

Beyond those controversies, Herrera has repeatedly mentioned accountability as a baseline expectation rather than a partisan issue. He has been sharply critical of Hooper and Smith, who failed to attend meetings and/or complete required ethics training.

“You’re getting paid to do a job,” Herrera said. “You’ve got to show up.”

Herrera has also tied recent governance disputes to economic risk, particularly in a county dependent on tourism, higher education and in-migration. Symbolic politics and procedural shortcuts, he argues, send signals that can deter visitors and prospective residents alike.

Voters should choose him in a crowded Democratic primary, Herrera said, because Jackson County does not need more symbolic victories or improvised decisions, but leaders who follow the law and understand that small procedural failures often produce the largest public consequences.

Painter enters the District 1 race from a markedly different starting point but with a similar insistence that county government must slow down, follow process and rebuild trust. 

Julie Painter. File photo

Born and raised on the Qualla Boundary in Jackson County, Painter is an enrolled member of the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians and a graduate of Cherokee High School. If she’s successful in the Primary and General elections, she’ll join the small-but-growing ranks of Indigenous peoples winning leadership roles outside the Boundary.

Spending two decades running a small cosmetology business in the county, Painter describes her work as both entrepreneurial and deeply social. In 2018, she earned a bachelor’s degree in business administration with a concentration in entrepreneurship from Western Carolina University, then completed a master’s degree in business administration from Florida State University in 2022.

Painter has said that her professional life — balancing payroll, overhead and customer relationships — shapes how she views public finance. She owns multiple properties in Jackson County and said she felt the impact of the recent property tax increase personally, both as a homeowner and as a business owner fielding questions from clients.

“I think it would have been better received if people were able to see the impact of that tax increase,” Painter said. “They need to be able to see that tax increase benefiting their everyday life.”

Rather than framing budgeting as an exercise in cuts or slogans, Painter has emphasized deliberation and data. She has said that rushing financial decisions increases the risk of overshooting or undershooting actual needs, particularly for a county juggling competing priorities.

“I don’t think that for anyone coming into public office, especially if it’s their first time in public office, making rash decisions is prudent,” Painter said. “I believe you need to take a consistent, steady approach to leadership, and you have to consider the data.”

That philosophy informs her opposition to Jackson County’s withdrawal from the FRL system.

“I do not believe that it is socially or financially responsible at this point in time to withdraw from the regional library system,” Painter said. “It’s going to cost us more to run the library by ourselves, and it is a shared community resource.”

Looking ahead, Painter has said that if the withdrawal proceeds, her priority would be damage control rather than entrenchment. She has framed rejoining the system — if possible — as preferable to doubling down on a mistake.

“I do not believe there is value in committing oneself to a mistake, even if you spend a lot of money and time making it,” Painter said.

Questions of transparency also shape Painter’s views on “Sylva Sam.” While she stopped short of making legal judgments, she has criticized the decision to remove interpretive plaques without public input, arguing that secrecy undermines legitimacy regardless of outcome.

“I think anytime you do something under the cloak of darkness and without public input, you are hiding that for a reason,” Painter said.

Painter has also linked cultural disputes to economic consequences in a county heavily dependent on tourism. She has said that controversies surrounding LGBTQ inclusion and Confederate symbolism risk making visitors feel unwelcome.

“I think one of the best parts about being a tourist town is being welcoming to everyone,” Painter said.

Beyond headline issues, Painter has focused on governance basics, including attendance and reliability. Drawing from her experience running a business for 20 years, she has emphasized consistency as a non-negotiable trait for elected officials.

“I built my business over the last 20 years by being consistent in showing up,” Painter said. “If something is on my schedule, that is what I do.”

She has identified affordable housing and childcare as intertwined challenges for working families, arguing that infrastructure decisions must support moderate-density housing not geared exclusively toward students and that the county must expand early childhood educational options that serve working families.

“A lot of government has forgotten that we need to lead from a place of service,” she said.

That argument about whether county government serves the public or entrenched interests carries directly into the candidacy of Casey Walawender, whose run for the District 1 seat reflects years of civic engagement rather than a sudden turn toward politics. 

Walawender grew up moving frequently as part of a military family, before settling in Charlotte and attending Western Carolina University, where she earned a degree in philosophy with a minor in social work and later completed a master’s degree in social work focused on rural communities.

Casey Walawender. File photo

Her professional background includes managing a group home for teenage boys in Cullowhee and working in nonprofit and public health settings — experience she has described as giving her a practical understanding of how county government, schools and informal support networks intersect. Previously, she worked for Jackson County Public Schools in a county-funded position created after students successfully lobbied commissioners for expanded mental health services.

“They used their voices,” she said. “They were heard.”

Walawender’s public engagement expanded during the FRL controversy, even before she was labeled an “extremist” in a threatening anonymous email and harassed on the street by Jackson County GOP Chair Keith Blaine.

At a recent FRL board meeting, Macon County Republican Jim Gaston left Walawender and her children feeling unsafe, an episode she has cited as underscoring the real-world risks of civic participation in the county and placing her family at the center of a broader campaign of intimidation.

Walawender characterized the FRL withdrawal less as a cultural dispute than as a failure of governance. She has criticized commissioners for moving forward without sharing information, dismissing public opposition and committing money before fully accounting for the consequences.

“Our current commissioners aren’t being fully transparent about what they know or don’t know,” Walawender said. “And so now they’re spending $350,000 that didn’t need to be spent.” 

Her critique of process extends to the county’s handling of “Sylva Sam.” Walawender has questioned the removal of interpretive plaques added as part of a 2021 compromise, noting that the action occurred without a public vote or discussion by commissioners. Regardless of personal views on the monument, she has argued that bypassing lawful procedure undermines public trust.

Rather than withdrawing from public life, Walawender has said the experience clarified the stakes of civic participation. She has argued that fear thrives when people disengage and that public officials have a responsibility to reject intimidation, regardless of who employs it.

Beyond the library and monument disputes, Walawender has tied recent governance decisions to broader economic and civic consequences in a county dependent on tourism, higher education and immigration. She has warned that symbolic conflict and rushed policymaking risk making Jackson County appear unstable to visitors and prospective residents who encounter those controversies without local context.

Fiscal issues also figure prominently in her critique. Walawender has said the recent tax increase highlighted a breakdown in communication between commissioners and the public, arguing that residents deserve a clearer explanation of how additional revenue will be used and whether spending decisions meaningfully improve daily life for working families.

She has also emphasized accountability as a baseline obligation of public office, criticizing lapses in attendance, ethics training and engagement with advisory boards. In her view, transparency begins with showing up, being prepared and answering questions publicly.

Concerns about voting access, housing and childcare round out her platform. Walawender has questioned whether cost-saving arguments justify changes that could discourage participation by students and working voters, and she has argued that long-term growth cannot be sustained without addressing workforce housing and early childhood support.

Taken together, Walawender has framed these issues as symptoms of a governing culture that moves too quickly, listens too little and underestimates the downstream effects of its decisions — a culture she has said must change if public trust is to be rebuilt.

Two Republicans are competing for the right to face the Democratic nominee and save Bryson’s District 1 seat for the Republicans. Only Steven Sutton responded to SMN’s request for an interview. 

Sutton’s candidacy is anchored in a long career in law enforcement and a self-described commitment to fiscal restraint rather than ideological battles. His background includes military service and local policing experience which he said shapes how he evaluates county priorities and spending.

Born in Gaston County in 1972, Sutton moved to Jackson County as a child, with family roots in both Jackson and Haywood counties. He attended Smoky Mountain High School and graduated in 1990 before enlisting in the U.S. Army, where he served about five years.

After returning home, Sutton worked with the Jackson County Sheriff’s Office for roughly four years before joining the State Highway Patrol, from which he retired in October 2019. He currently works security at the local hospital.

Sutton said the recent property tax increase was unwelcome but not entirely surprising, framing it as an unfortunate reality rather than a political betrayal.

Steven Sutton. File photo

“Well, I’m like most people, I wasn’t crazy about it, but at some point, taxes are going to go up,” Sutton said. “I thought it was a little excessive, but that’s just my opinion on it.”

Looking ahead to future budgets, Sutton said his focus would be less on reversing taxes already imposed and more on how the county manages the additional revenue. He repeatedly emphasized restraint and the importance of not treating new revenue as money that must immediately be spent.

Sutton described himself as fiscally conservative but not rigid, acknowledging that emergencies arise while arguing that departments should be expected to stay close to their approved budgets. He said county government sometimes moves too quickly from one capital project to the next without adequate pause or prioritization.

On the FRL issue, Sutton expressed uncertainty rather than a firm ideological stance. He said he does not have a problem with the regional system itself but expects accountability when county leaders make requests of outside partners.

“I don’t have a problem with Fontana Regional Library,” Sutton said. “But I do think if you’re going to pay them as much as they’re getting paid, if you ask them to do something, they should do it.”

The FRL is an independent board governed by its own bylaws that serve as guardrails against legal exposure.

Asked about the removal of interpretive plaques from Sylva Sam, Sutton said he supports keeping the statue and was initially unaware that the action may have violated state law. Once informed that the plaques were removed without a public vote or discussion, he said the lack of process concerned him more than the outcome. Sutton stopped short of calling for the plaques to be reinstalled, saying he would need to learn more before taking a definitive position. He described himself as open to discussion rather than entrenched, particularly on issues that have generated prolonged controversy.

Questions about whether cultural flashpoints like the library dispute and Confederate monument affect Jackson County’s tourism economy drew a skeptical response. Sutton said he does not personally feel unwelcome in the county and does not view those issues as central to how residents or visitors experience the area.

Concerns about commissioner attendance and accountability produced one of Sutton’s clearest responses. He said showing up and doing the job is a basic obligation of public service, citing his own work history as an example.

“In almost 30 years, I’ve never used a sick day,” Sutton said. “If you’re going to take on a job, you need to do it.”

Sutton identified growth, infrastructure and affordability as longer-term challenges, expressing concern about rapid development and the pace of county construction projects. He also acknowledged the severity of the affordable housing and childcare crises but said solutions are limited and often driven by market forces rather than county action.

“I’m a big fan of the market,” Sutton said. “But sure, help out where you can.”

District 2

Republican Commissioner John Smith has come under scrutiny, like Hooper, for failing to attend meetings of at least one advisory board he was appointed to — the Jackson County Public Library board. He also violated state law by failing to complete state-mandated ethics training within the statutory 12-month period after his election.

Regardless, he’ll advance uncontested to the November General Election, where he’ll face one of two Democrats who have filed for the seat. Between the elections for chair, District 1 and District 2, Democrats could flip the board’s 5-0 Republican majority into a 3-2 Dem majority and start calling the shots.

Only Sean Bridgers responded to an SMN interview request. For dedicated television viewers and film buffs, his is a familiar name.

Bridgers was born in Chapel Hill and moved to Jackson County when he was three, growing up in Sylva after his father accepted a job there. He spent most of his childhood in Jackson County’s public schools, with a brief detour to a small Episcopal boarding school in Tennessee, an experience he has said reshaped how he understood education and classroom scale.

Sean Bridgers. File photo

After a short, unfocused year in Atlanta, he enrolled at WCU with plans to transfer elsewhere but stayed, earning a Bachelor of Fine Arts with a minor in English.

While still in college, Bridgers began working professionally as an actor, an opportunity he has said demystified the industry and convinced him he could make a living in it. His career took him to California in the late 1990s and early 2000s, including work on major television productions such as Deadwood, where he starred for 36 episodes as Johnny Burns, an impulsive dimwit who served as both enforcer and comedic foil.

Between jobs, Bridgers maintained Jackson County as his base. In 2012, he moved back full time after his father Ben, formerly the tribal attorney for the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians, fell ill.

That pattern of leaving for work and returning by choice underpins Bridgers’ case for local roots.

But those local roots bore a bitter fruit; Bridgers described the county’s recent property tax increase as jarring. Rather than calling for cuts without context, he emphasized the need to understand where new revenue is going and whether spending decisions clearly benefit county residents, particularly those facing economic strain.

“We need to be very, very clear and specific on what we’re spending tax dollars for,” Bridgers said. “First and foremost, it needs to go to help the people of Jackson County. Some of them are struggling a lot. I don’t see that getting better. I actually worry that we’re heading into tougher times.”

On the county’s withdrawal from the FRL system, Bridgers was unequivocal. He opposed the decision on fiscal grounds and criticized both its cost and the way it was carried out.

“Fiscally it’s foolish,” Bridgers said. “That dispute is the reason I’m here. I heard about it, and I went to a few meetings and was surprised with the decision, based on the overwhelming support from the community for that library for months and the fact that the commissioners went ahead and made the decision they made.”

Bridgers also addressed the cultural dimensions of the library dispute, particularly concerns raised by LGBTQ residents. Drawing on personal relationships and professional experience, he rejected arguments that portray LGBTQ representation as harmful and criticized what he called the political use of fear.

His comments extended to the removal of interpretive plaques from Sylva Sam, an issue he has engaged with publicly since 2020, including in a documentary called “A Monumental Project.”

Bridgers supported the earlier compromise that added historical context to the monument and expressed concern that removing the plaques without a public process prioritized symbolism over practical governance.

“Governing needs to be kind of boring and practical,” he said.

Questions about availability and attendance drew a direct response to scrutiny faced by other commissioners. Bridgers acknowledged that acting work could require travel but said he has already begun preparing to manage the role responsibly, emphasizing preparation, communication and accountability over physical presence alone.

On voting access, Bridgers criticized the decision to close the early voting site at WCU, calling the cost argument disingenuous in light of the county’s overall budget and recent spending decisions.

Bridgers’ most expansive commentary came when discussing North Carolina’s film industry incentives, an area where he brings direct professional experience. He said the state’s former tax credits played a decisive role in launching his career — he was an extra in “Last of the Mohicans,” filmed in Western North Carolina — and argued that eliminating them ceded economic opportunity to competitors like Georgia.

Although county commissioners do not control state film subsidies, Bridgers argued that such policies represent an influx of outside money and that he would use his platform to advocate for renewed incentives and to promote Western North Carolina as a filming destination.

“I have this career that sends me all over the place where I meet all kinds of people, and I can tell you this,” Bridgers said. “I bring Jackson County wherever I go.”