Adjuster’s Life—don’t do it for the money
It’s not for everybody
That’s true
Staying up late
Getting up early
One eye on the weather channel
One hand on the suitcase handle
Always ready to go
Cuz you never know
When or
Where
Or for how long
You just know, you gotta go
Like a cowboys call to a rodeo
Or a Fireman’s call to smoke
You don’t do it for the money…
Well, some do.
But a real adjuster knows
It’s really more than that.
It’s being there when the smoke clears to offer a ray of hope
Shaking hands
Hugging necks
Saying prayers
With and for
Those who survived
Hurricanes
Floods
Fires
Tornadoes
And all the things they call natural disasters…even though there’s nothing natural about a person’s world being turned upside down.
The unseen destruction above every policy limit, is the stress and worry and fear that blows stronger than any storm that ever blew them in.
It’s more than a paycheck—more than just a job.
It’s a rescue mission.
It’s a people business.
It’s saving the message
From the man who called
Months after the storm—so long you’d all but forgotten.
How you stood in his ram-shackled kitchen
His heart broken beyond what writing an estimate could repair.
Surrounded by color crayon pictures his daughter had drawn
His quivering voice echoed off walls once filled with laughter, back before the storm, back when that broken down house was a home…back before dark clouds settled and sent mother and child running from it all.
You remember how he walked down the hall and tenderly touched the pictures of his wife and daughter.
How he told of spending every Christmas together, in that house.
How he didn’t think he could handle spending one alone.
He said, thanks, when you told him everything would be okay.
He wiped his eyes and couldn’t speak when you told him you’d pray.
And then, months after it all
He called.
He’d saved your number. Remembered your name. The money was spent. The repairs were made.
But that wasn’t the reason for his call.
His voice held that same quiver, but this time it wasn’t sad. He laughed as he said his wife and daughter were back home and he just wanted to say thanks, because after that day in the kitchen when you offered a kind word, and told him everything would be okay. It changed his life, his heart, gave him hope.
Because, it could’ve been different.
It wasn’t what he’d planned.
The revolver was loaded and sat in the drawer of the night stand. But you offered more than just help with the restoration of a house—you offered hope for the restoration of a home.
So now, every now and then, when the days get long and the nights get short, and it seems every person in the world has turned to greed. You click through the messages and find the one you need. The smile in your heart returns, and you remember the reason why you do what you do, when you hear that shaky voice say,
“I just want to say thanks Mr. Doug…it’s gonna be a great Christmas after all.”