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Joseph E. (Jeb) Burnside |
"Life insurance." These are two words
almost guaranteed to glaze the eyes of even the most attentive pilot and cause
many others to look for a way — any way — to quickly change the subject to
something more stimulating — like wall paint or 8-track tape players. They
conjure up, in my mind anyway, images of middle-aged men wearing leisure suits
and spouting unfamiliar terms like "actuarial tables" and
"annuity." For years, I was content to allow the impenetrable
mysteries of life insurance to remain hidden and out of sight, like the
conflicting traffic I just can't find on a hazy summer afternoon.
Yet,
an appropriate life-insurance policy should be something to which the serious
pilot gives equally serious consideration. We pilots, as a rule, are
detail-oriented individuals with a strong desire to make certain that
everything is as it should be. We have to be detail-oriented: Our safety
depends on proper maintenance, proper training and proper operation to help
ensure that the number of landings equals our takeoffs. Indeed, I now consider
an appropriate life-insurance policy, one that provides adequate coverage in
the event I don't survive my next landing, just as important as are current
charts or fuel in my tanks. It didn't used to be that way.
A Pair Of Policies
I had given the subject only passing thought in recent years, purchasing
two policies. One, which I originally bought from Prudential in the early
1980s, explicitly exempted any coverage if I died while serving as a
crewmember aboard non-scheduled aircraft. That policy was good for only
$50,000, a wildly optimistic estimation of my net worth back then, when my
career was just starting. Later, I bought another policy through AOPA and
underwritten by Minnesota Mutual Life which covered me for the same $50,000
but also omitted any exclusion if I died while piloting a general aviation
aircraft. Interestingly, the premiums for these two policies seemed a bit out
of alignment: I've paid around $50 each month for the Prudential policy, but
only some $30 for the one obtained via AOPA. Nevertheless, I've kept both
policies current and still religiously send off my checks each time I'm asked.
Given
my predilection against peeling any more layers of the "life insurance
onion," it was with some measure of amusement that I approached the Pilot
Insurance Company (PIC Life) booth at last year's AOPA
convention in Long Beach, Calif. PIC Life has long been an AVweb
sponsor and I had come to know the company's president, Bill Fanning, to be a
well-informed and well-prepared businessman who flies his own F33A Bonanza and
knew his stuff. I had never seen him in a leisure suit and had heard him utter
the word "annuity" only once. I had also watched from afar as his
business developed and sometimes wondered about their products, their service
and whether the ad copy that frequently appeared in AVflash really told the
tale.
Soon after I had introduced myself to the men and women staffing PIC Life's
booth at AOPA, I was in a surprisingly serious (to me, anyway) conversation
about the various options they offer and what the policy premiums were for
someone of my age and aviation experience. What I heard was interesting and
presented Surprise Number One: I could purchase a policy that omitted any
exclusion while flying just about any GA aircraft but which included
substantially greater coverage than I had — even when combining the policies
from Prudential and Minnesota Mutual — for a sum that wasn't even close to
being commensurate with its increased value. I grabbed some brochures and
agreed to fill out and return an application before I wandered off to look at
ways to spend my hard-earned money on avionics.
Applying
Safely nestled back into my office a few weeks later and sifting through
all the materials I managed to stuff into my Debonair for the flight home, I
came across the PIC Life application. I put it in the appropriate stack for
later action and, surprisingly, found it again a week or so later, right where
I had left it. Since it was bill-paying time, and I don't like to pay bills, I
immediately grabbed a pen and began filling it out. Not long afterward, I had
completed the application, including a brief summary of my flying time over
the past 25-plus years, and had faxed it back to PIC Life at the supplied
number.
"That's the last I'll hear of that," I thought to myself.
"They'll (choose one): Lose the application, decline to write a policy
based on my aviation experience or generally let it fall through the
cracks."
It wasn't a week later when the phone at my desk rang; it was Doug, calling
from PIC Life, with a couple of quick questions about my application. That was
Surprise Number Two — Doug's approach was professional, low-key and, before
we got off the phone, we had even managed to talk flying, if only briefly. I
supplied the answers he needed and then heard him say something to the effect
that I was pre-approved, pending a health exam, and that my premium for the
$250,000 of coverage I had chosen would be in line with the figure I had been
quoted at AOPA. He said he'd be sending along some more forms, one of which
was related to scheduling the health exam.
Turn Your Head And...
"Health
exam?" I thought. Oh, goody — between turning my head and coughing or
watching someone I didn't know pop a rubber glove over their index finger and
smile, it was not something to which I looked forward. Despite my general
aversion to health exams, by this time I was committed to going ahead with
this — I am flying more than ever and the increased coverage was clearly
necessary. Sure enough, the requisite paperwork arrived a couple of days later
— via Priority Mail. I filled out a very simple health questionnaire and
returned it to PIC Life a few days later with my check for the first period's
premium (I opted to pay my premium semi-annually — PIC Life also offers
monthly, quarterly and annual payment plans, with appropriate discounts for
paying in advance).
It wasn't a week later that I discovered a voicemail to me from someone
attempting to schedule the exam. Prepared to make all kinds of excuses for my
intolerable inability to find a mutually convenient time for me to make the
trek to their office, I returned the call. I was shocked to learn that the
health care professional would come to my home — I wouldn't have to bother
with navigating myself to an unfamiliar location in rush-hour traffic — and
that the exam would only take about 15 minutes. And, no, there wouldn't be any
digital poking or prodding. That was Surprise Number Three.
After
some well-coordinated schedule changes — mine and theirs — the day finally
arrived for my health "exam." A very professional and well-prepared
young woman arrived and we sat down at the dining room table. It wasn't really
an exam, after all. After a quick height measurement, a step onto the scale
she brought, and my responses to a few more questions, I moved into the nearby
bathroom to provide a urine sample and then sat back down for the hard part —
providing a blood sample. While I generally try to avoid letting people I've
just met poke needles into my arm, this was about as easy as it gets — the
young lady clearly had done this before and before I knew what was going on,
she had taped a cotton ball onto my arm and began packing up her stuff.
"That's it?" I was forced to ask. "That's all," she
replied.
Th-Th-That's All
And that was all there was to it. A few days after the exam, I received
another envelope from PIC Life — again via Priority Mail — which included
the complete policy and associated materials comprising my coverage. One sheet
of paper was a well-written letter from Bill Fanning, thanking me for choosing
PIC Life and imploring me to contact him or his staff with any questions.
Surprise
Number Four is somewhat less tangible than the other surprises I've come to
appreciate through my experiences with PIC Life (other than being content in
the knowledge that I'm well-covered in the event I don't return from my next
flight, that is): I haven't heard a peep from PIC Life since receiving the
final policy paperwork. Unlike my experiences with other insurance companies
— life or otherwise — I haven't been contacted to buy anything else, I
haven't received any more spam emails than normal, my junk mail content has
not explosively increased and telemarketers aren't wearing out my telephones.
Having what I consider a more appropriate level of life-insurance coverage
(I still believe my life is worth a lot more than the coverage I chose, of
course) hasn't changed the way I fly, hasn't smoothed out the turbulence or
melted ice from my wings and hasn't cleared the traffic pattern each time I
want to land. Having better coverage has, however, removed one of life's
nagging little voices from the back of my head — you know, the one saying,
"If you're gonna do as much flying as you're doing, you really need to
make sure your life-insurance coverage is up to par."
Would I do it again? Absolutely. Dealing with PIC Life was a pleasure:
There was no pressure; Bill, Doug and the others with whom I dealt were
completely honest and professional at all times. I received excellent value
for what I bought and, all things considered, probably could not get the same
level of coverage for the same premium with another carrier. I certainly
couldn't have done it in as painless a fashion. I call that a pretty good
deal.
And I have yet to see the first leisure suit.
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Author's Note:
The Pilot Insurance Center (PIC Life)
is a longtime AVweb sponsor. The author neither sought nor
received any consideration from PIC Life in applying for or obtaining
life-insurance coverage and this article was conceived only after the
insurance was obtained.
To learn more about PIC Life or to
obtain a free, no-obligation quote, be sure to visit the company's
web site. |