I never thought much about life insurance. As a healthy, single 27-year-old with a mountain of student loan and credit card debt, it always seemed like a low priority. My focus was on paying off those debts, covering my rent, and enjoying the simple pleasures in life. Then, my apartment building had a disaster that changed everything.
The Fire and the Flood
It started with a fire. On an unseasonably warm Wednesday night in March, a stove fire in the unit four floors above my Washington, D.C., apartment building forced residents to evacuate. Thankfully, no one was hurt, but when I went back to my apartment, I knew something was wrong. Water was gushing from the air vent in the bathroom, running down the walls, and bubbling the paint. I quickly put a bucket under the leak and ran downstairs for help. A firefighter explained that once the fire hose is full, it has to be emptied completely—and in the process of putting out the fire, they used the whole hose. The water leaked down to every unit below.
Suffice it to say, it was a sleepless night. I couldn’t stay in my apartment after that. The walls were soaked. Water had seeped under the floorboards, and the electricity had to be shut off. I needed all-new ventilation and ceiling lights. The floorboards would have to be ripped up so the floor could dry, which would mean the water heater/laundry closet was also affected, and the water heater fell off the wall onto my washer/dryer.
The leasing office said my renter’s insurance should cover the damage and temporary housing. The next morning, I went to check my policy, but I couldn’t find the updated document. I had moved in a few months earlier and had renewed a policy that was originally for another apartment. When I called the insurance agency, they also couldn’t find my policy.
That seemed odd. I’m fairly organized and keep records, but there was no sign of the updated policy. Then I checked my bank statements and realized I hadn’t paid for insurance in months. I was terrified.
After some back and forth with the insurance agency, I found a record of a call in which I’d authorized my agent to renew the policy. The agent never followed up. Also, I had to find a place to live temporarily, not knowing if I’d be able to claim the expense. The building’s parent company promised to move fast on the repairs, but a one-week estimate turned into two, and two turned into a full month of displacement. To make things worse, at the time, I was on the job hunt, mostly freelancing, with no vision or dental insurance. I only had the bare minimum healthcare to comply with the Affordable Care Act. The lack of a steady income, along with the ever-present debt, provided constant anxiety. And then this.
Building a Safety Net
The flood really shook me. I had a breakdown on my friend’s living room floor over a Chick-fil-A order. I knew this was a low point, and I vowed to build a safety net. First was insurance. After two weeks of hounding customer service, the agency finally admitted I was covered. They just hadn’t finished processing my policy. Finally, five months later they would process it.
Luckily, my possessions were mostly spared any significant water damage, so I didn’t have much to claim. As for my living situation, I was fortunate to have generous friends who took me in for various amounts of time over the month I was without a home. I got a new renter’s insurance provider that offered a fair rate ($295 per year) and an easy process. By the time I was back in my apartment, I had received a full-time offer from my temp job, and I felt like I could breathe again.
Why I Changed My Mind About Life Insurance
After nights of talking about the renter’s insurance nightmare, someone brought up life insurance. Maybe it was time to rethink it. I invested in a solid renter’s insurance policy to protect myself from another apartment disaster. It made sense to also cover myself from other disaster scenarios, why wouldn’t I add life insurance as well?
That led me to invest in a 20-year term life insurance policy valued at $800,000. I locked in a low rate ($308 a year) while I’m healthy and without any dependents. The process wasn’t difficult, and given how I’d become an insurance evangelist, this was the final piece of the puzzle.
