The state publishes 4,433 economic development agreements as scanned PDFs and structures none of them. I read the executed documents and record what each one actually commits a company to — the build-by date, the repayment remedy, the page it's on.
Celestica's agreement contains all three. Press coverage used the largest. It sits in a whereas
clause, which commits no one to anything. The enforceable figure is in section 4.1, and it is $75 million smaller.
Taylor. A 366,000 sq ft plant with 900 committed jobs appears as two $50M agreements — one for the property owner, one for the lessee. Added up, one building reads as $100M.
Waco. The city and McLennan County each filed for the same facility, both citing 149 jobs and the same completion date. Summed, it overstates by $3.7M.
Neither filing is wrong. They are only wrong when you add them — which is what every summary of this data does.
For a Hopkins County brief covering five agreements, I took each generation project to ERCOT's interconnection records. Four were already operating — the deadline had passed and the registry still showed nothing. The fifth appeared nowhere.
Texas records what was promised. It never records what happened. That gap is the whole reason this exists.
Each row carries the sentence that creates the obligation, the page it appears on, and the repayment clause if the contract states one.
Every value is quoted from the document and cited to a page. Nothing is inferred, averaged or reconciled. Where a contract is silent, the field stays empty rather than being filled with a guess.
A recital is not a covenant. A state summary field is not a contract term. Errors get corrected within a day, because the citation is there to settle it.
Email me a Texas county and I'll send back every agreement in it with a deadline in the next eighteen months — quoted, page-cited, and checked. If there's nothing there, I'll tell you that instead.
[email protected]