You would think that I hate insurance companies and while they're not high on my list of favorite things, I don't. Well, amend that to omit the one with the reptile. We hate them, no matter how cute or clever the commercials are.
While this accident thing has not turned out in ANY WAY the way we had hoped, it has given me a little faith in humanity.
Because insurance companies are a business, their job is to spend the least amount of money they have to. I get that. Here's where the system is broken and needs addressed:
Insurance companies will pay market value for your vehicle. If you have a new car, it will be fixed. If you have an older car, they will replace it. Will they pay for total replacement? that would be a big NO. Will they pay the complete cost of repair? Also no. (this is in addition to your deductible) So plan accordingly if you have older vehicles and make sure your policy has everything you need. (personal injury protection, replacement value vs. market value coverage. #thankyouforcomingtomytedtalk)
The insurance company is paying to fix our truck. They are not paying the full amount of repair. We knew this going in. While CAPITAL F frustrating, we knew this was going to happen. Then they are going after the reptile company to recoup their cost and our deductible.
This is where I say the insurance company that Jake works at, has been professional and sympathetic. Our actual agent has been helpful and sympathetic. That being said, the system is broken and they know it.
The fix for when this is said and done is an appraisal. We will get both the little truck and the big truck appraised then insured for that value instead of market value. Then we are insured for the next time a plow truck parks in the middle of a snowy road and we dare to leave our house.
This brings us to the repair shop. The repair shop is owned by a family who also owns our mechanic shop. This family helped raised Kevin as a small boy. Kevin's dad was on the road and absent a big part of his life, from birth to teens. This family became his surrogate family. Five boys, all within seven-ish years of each other, became his best friends and brothers.
Here's a story, Kevin would murder me twice for telling, but he doesn't read this.
When Kevin was young - early grade-schooler - he went to church with this family. There were so many of them, they took up an entire row. For some reason that day, everyone was to stand and state their name. One by one, everyone stood and stated their name. When it came to Kevin's turn, far down that row, he accidentally/Freudian slipped and used the family's surname and not his own. "I'm Kevin Andrews" not "I'm Kevin Thomas"
I can only imagine the parents reaction. I am certain they were pleased and honored.
Back to my point.
In the middle of negotiating through this mess, I asked Kevin - who was in mid-spin-out - "Just call David. Call him and ask him for help. Then call James and do the same thing. They will help you."
And they did. They stepped up, as family tends to do. Kevin phoned me, relieved, that they were helping. "This is why I asked you to call your "brothers". They want to help you." He paused for a few beats, letting that sink in. "Yeah, they did." he answered quietly.
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