olbigjim

(Who Would Like It Known That Certain Events Were Not Covered)

I was assigned to Pecos Bill’s territory in the spring of 1883.

By the time autumn wandered in, I no longer believed weather was a naturally occurring phenomenon.

The Assignment

At the time, I was considered one of the company’s more promising adjusters.

Detail-oriented.

Reliable.

Capable of distinguishin’ between flood damage and wind damage.

This was before I learned there existed a third category.

The First Claim

The first claim arrived in April.

A farmer reported the loss of a barn.

Cause of damage:

“Cowboy.”

Naturally, I assumed the man was drunk.

I denied the claim.

Three days later I visited the property.

The barn was gone.

Not damaged.

Gone.

The farmer pointed toward the horizon.

I looked.

The barn was approximately two counties away.

An Explanation Is Offered

I asked what happened.

The farmer sighed.

The way a man sighs when explainin’ the obvious.

Then he said:

“Bill was practicin’.”

Now you’ll notice that this statement explains absolutely nothin’.

Yet everybody present appeared satisfied.

The Tornado Matter

The next incident involved weather.

Or what I believed was weather.

Several witnesses reported observin’ Mr. Bill ridin’ a tornado.

At speed.

Using a saddle.

Now company policy contains extensive language concernin’:

• hail
• lightning
• floods
• fire

There is surprisingly little guidance regardin’ recreational cyclone usage.

The Committee Meeting

Back at headquarters I filed my report.

The claims committee read it.

Silently.

Then the chairman asked:

“Are you serious?”

I replied:

“I used to be serious, but that was before I entered Pecos Bill’s territory.

Now I’m merely reportin’.”

Claim #47

Cause of Loss:
Atmospheric relocation of cattle.

The policyholder alleged that a tornado carrying Mr. Bill had inadvertently transferred thirty-two head of livestock into Oklahoma.

Investigation confirmed the cattle.

Investigation also confirmed Oklahoma.

Claim #63

Cause of Loss:
Excessive rope deployment.

Now this one was unusual even by local standards.

Apparently, Mr. Bill had attempted to rope a thundercloud.

Why?

The witnesses disagreed.

One claimed he was conductin’ research.

Another said he was just bored.

Frankly, given what I’ve learned recently, both explanations seemed equally plausible.

The River Incident

I arrived at a ranch to inspect flood damage.

Only to discover there was no river.

The rancher informed me there had once been a river.

A very good river.

Dependable.

Predictable.

Then Bill had gotten involved.

The river now occupied an entirely different valley.

When asked why, the rancher shrugged and said:

“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

I did not inquire whose idea.

I already knew.

A Professional Breakdown

By July I had developed a system.

Every new claim was placed into one of three categories:

Category A

Normal weather.

Category B

Livestock.

Category C

Pecos Bill.

Category C soon required its own filing cabinet.

The Final Straw

The event that ended my career occurred in late August.

A ranch owner submitted a claim for damages caused by what he described as:

“Experimental weather cowboyin’.”

Now there comes a point in every man’s life when his faith is tested.

Mine arrived in triplicate.

The Investigation

I traveled to the site.

Interviewed witnesses.

Reviewed evidence.

Measured impact areas.

And after three days of work, I reached the only conclusion available.

The claim was accurate.

Every word of it.

My Resignation

Upon returning to headquarters, I submitted a letter.

It read:

Dear Sirs,

I have devoted fourteen years to the insurance profession.

During that time, I have successfully evaluated floods, fires, storms, and acts of God.

I am no longer qualified to evaluate acts of Pecos Bill.

Respectfully,

Hiram T. Wainwright

Closing Observation

Now people often ask whether the stories about Pecos Bill are true.

To which I reply:

I certainly hope not.

Because if even half of them happened…

The laws of nature are nothing more than suggestions.

Final Note

I still receive correspondence from former clients.

Every now and then a letter arrives describin’ some impossible event.

A mountain moved.

A cloud behaved suspiciously.

A creek developed opinions.

And at the bottom of the page, without fail, are the same three words:

“Bill was involved.”

And that, as near as I can determine from the surviving records, is how I became the only insurance adjuster in American history to classify a natural disaster as a repeat customer.