August 19 marks the 25 year anniversary of Dubuque's 1994 hailstorm. Hail reached tennis ball to baseball size. Cars, windows, roofs and siding had no chance. I remember all the fly by night companies coming up from Texas to set up shop for the next few months.
The storm itself, accompanied by 80 mph winds, was scary. It was a Friday and I had the day off. I was at my parents house. At about 3:30 I heard a large crack outdoors that sounded like a firecracker. I told Dad that if that was hail hitting the awning we were in trouble. Thank God for insurance.
I, ironically, had just come over from talking to my own insurance agent. He was getting ready for a week of camping and fishing before school started. He was looking forward to it and I told him to have a nice week. It was a couple days before I had the heart to call him back and file the claim on my car.
Insurance is one great form of socialism (not delving into health care here). Of course the insurers get theirs also. But imagine being on your own and trying to save and fund just in case all your shit was destroyed.