A Model of Customer Service

When I started as a Pricing Analyst at Enservio back in September, my colleagues kept telling me about “The Moment.” They told me The Moment is what makes working at Enservio more than just a typical job, that it offers an apple-falling-from-the-tree-and-striking-you-in-the-head sense of clarity and purpose. I thought this sounded corny and I was skeptical. It turns out, I was also wrong.

As Pricing Analysts, it is our job to inspect, review, and modify completed claims, calculate recoverable depreciation, and anything else we can do to help the carrier close the claim. Day in and day out we deal in the details of people’s lives as we help them recover after a loss. We examine blurry photographs, sort through yellowed receipts, and try to decipher handwritten inventories that more closely resemble hieroglyphics than characters in the English alphabet. We do everything we can to make sure we are producing a complete inventory and supplying accurate appraisals, but it is too easy to get bogged down in the details and forget about the person behind the claim. I speak with insureds on a daily basis, but until I worked on Mr. Stevenson’s claim I had yet to really develop a personal connection.

Mr. Stevenson is an elderly man with a deep, gravelly voice, and when I first spoke with him he was audibly upset and more than a bit skeptical of my motivations. A model train enthusiast, most of his 40 year old collection was stolen during a break-in. He had sent his adjuster a long, handwritten inventory that was unfortunately light on details.. My job was to collect more information on the train sets in order to accurately appraise hundreds of them to the satisfaction of both Mr. Stevenson and his adjuster.

At first, Mr. Stevenson was a tad reluctant to answer my questions. He felt that I was trying to shortchange him and price his items lower than their actual value. I explained that the more detail I had, the more accurate my appraisals would be, and slowly but surely Mr. Stevenson began to open up. Over the next few weeks I spoke with Mr. Stevenson on several occasions and together we worked through his entire inventory. After three weeks I had heard all about his ex-wife, his son¹s baseball career, and I’d even scored an invitation to drink an MGD 64 and play a round of golf out in Nevada (unfortunately I don’t think finance will approve this expense). Most importantly, I was able to return our revised report to Mr. Stevenson’s adjuster and they were able to close the contents portion of the claim to his satisfaction.

What my Moment taught me, besides more than I ever wanted to know about model trains, is that we really do help people get their stuff back. Day to day we may be preoccupied with the price of a sofa or an antique phonograph, but it is important that we never forget the person behind the claim. When I tell new hires my story about solving Mr. Stevenson’s claim they may be skeptical, and I can’t blame them.

But once they have their own they will understand: The Moment is what makes Enservio a special place to work.