"So if Garrett rear-ends a new pickup and puts somebody in the hospital, what happens after the twenty-five thousand runs out?" Tina asked me that at supper, the week after Garrett's first drive down Frederick Avenue. I didn't have an answer, which is why I called our agent the next morning on my lunch break.
Back in March, when our spring renewal went up $186, I found out our liability limits were at Missouri's minimum. I had been meaning to ask about it. Tina's question moved it to the top of the list.
What 25/50/25 actually means
Liability coverage pays for damage you cause to other people, not to your own car. The numbers are in thousands of dollars.
- The first 25 is $25,000 for injuries to any one person in a crash you cause.
- The 50 is $50,000 total for injuries to everyone in that crash.
- The last 25 is $25,000 for damage to other people's property, which usually means their vehicle.
Missouri requires at least that much, plus uninsured motorist coverage. It is legal. It is also not very much once you look at what things cost. A new crew cab pickup on the lot in Kansas City runs well over $25,000. Two nights in a hospital can use up the per-person limit before anyone talks about lost wages. If a crash costs more than the policy pays, the other party can come after the difference, and our agent was plain about it: that difference can come out of savings, and in a bad case, future paychecks.
I spend my workday thinking about what happens when a truck has a bad day on the interstate. I had somehow never applied that to my own driveway.
What 100/300/100 cost us
Our agent quoted a few levels. We settled on 100/300/100: $100,000 per person, $300,000 per accident, $100,000 for property. I braced for a number that would undo the whole year's oil-change savings.
The increase was $54 every six months. Our premium went from $1,254 to $1,308. That works out to $9 a month, or about thirty cents a day, to multiply our protection by four.
I asked why it was so cheap compared to the $186 jump we had just eaten. The explanation made sense once I heard it. Most claims are small. A parking lot bump or a cracked taillight costs the same to the insurer whether your limit is $25,000 or $100,000. The higher limits only matter on the rare, serious crash, and because those are rare, the extra coverage is priced lower than you would guess. The first dollars of coverage are the expensive ones. The later dollars are cheaper.
Why we did it now
Three reasons, in order of how much they kept me up at night.
First, we have a fifteen-year-old with a learner's permit, and within a year he will be driving on his own. New drivers make mistakes, and I want the policy to be ready before he is, not after.
Second, I commute 22 miles a day on US-36 and the Belt Highway in a full-size truck. If I misjudge a merge, the other car is going to lose that argument. I would rather the policy carried the weight than our savings account.
Third, the math. Nine dollars a month is less than what I spent on the code reader this spring, and I use that every few weeks. This is a cost I hope never to use at all, which is the best kind.
I am not telling anyone what limits to carry. Every family's situation is different, and our agent asked about our house, savings and work before suggesting anything. Higher limits might mean more for someone with more to lose, and some people carry an umbrella policy on top. I am only saying that I had never asked the question, and asking took twenty minutes.
When I told Tina the number, she said, "That's it? I spend more than that on coffee at the shop." I'm going to choose not to fact-check that. I brought the new insurance cards home that afternoon and put one in each glovebox, which is the one part of insurance I have always done right.