Company
3 min read
The founding obsession that turned into CurbPage

By Jacob Evans
Founder & CEO

It started with an inspector's name I couldn't find.
I was buying a home last year, not our first, but this one would've been a real fixer-upper. My wife and I had already been through two transactions, one a starter home and an off-market find our agent brought to us like a gift. That second one made her a hero to us. So when we started looking again, I wanted the same inspector who'd taken care of us before. I just needed his name.
Twenty-five minutes later, I gave up. I'd scrolled through months of email threads, half-remembered subject lines, attachments with no names I recognized. The information existed. It just didn't live anywhere I could find it.
That's a small thing to get stuck on. But it stuck with me.
The conversation that changed everything
That night, I was at my kitchen table with a friend who owns a high-end brokerage — someone who cares about client experience as much as anyone I know in the business. I told her about the inspector, expecting a laugh. Instead, she told me the same problem existed on her side of the table, just facing the other direction.
Her hardest moment wasn't during the transaction. It was after. The close happens, the champagne gets popped, and then — nothing. No natural reason to stay in touch, no system holding the relationship together, just an email thread that both of you eventually stop opening. She called it the shadow days: the quiet stretch between one transaction and whatever comes next, where a client's trust either compounds or quietly evaporates.
I was living the client side of that gap. She was living the agent side. Neither of us had a name for it until we said it out loud to each other. The visibility gap was identified.

What we actually found
I didn't take that conversation and build something. I took it and started asking harder questions. I spoke to 225 agents across the country over three months — taking what I'd learned as a student at the McMillon Innovation Studio — before a single line of code got written.
The pattern was everywhere. The tools agents already use are built for compliance, for documents, for finding the next lead. Every one of them stops paying attention exactly where it matters most: the relationship happening in real time, between contract and close, where an agent is quietly fighting a hundred small battles a client never sees.
That invisible work is the whole game. A client who sees what their agent did for them becomes a client for life — and tells everyone they know. A client who doesn't just closes and disappears. The difference between those two outcomes isn't the agent's effort. It's whether the effort was ever visible.
Why CurbPage exists
We built CurbPage to close that gap from both sides at once — to give clients a home for their homes, one place that holds the whole relationship instead of scattering it across inboxes and closed deals. And to give agents a way to make their work visible without adding one more piece of software to manage. The name isn't an accident. It's the homepage a transaction never had.
We launched beta in May 2026, right here in Northwest Arkansas — a market we chose deliberately, dense with agents who work the way we believe the whole industry should. What we're hearing back matches what those 225 conversations told us before we ever built anything: agents don't just want this. They feel its absence every day they go without it.
The bet underneath the product
I'm not asking anyone to believe in a feature. I'm asking them to believe in something simpler: the best agents in this country are underserved by every tool built for them, and the ones who win the next decade will be the ones whose clients can actually feel the difference.
That belief started the day I couldn't find an inspector's name. It hasn't let go of me since.