I can't believe Bill Bailey is gone. In my 28 years covering the insurance business, I don't recall anyone with more energy, enthusiasm and good humor (often bitingly self-deprecating) when it came to defending all the good this industry does for society--particularly when clients have their lives devastated by natural disasters. Yet gone Bill is, having passed away at 68 after a bout with cancer. This "master of disaster," as I used to teasingly greet him, will certainly be missed by an industry that needs all the warriors it can find to defend its beleaguered reputation.
Bill was literally on the front lines during the worst catastrophes to hit this country--and this industry--over the past two decades.
He was the first director of the Hurricane Insurance Information Center, working out of Miami, in August 1992 following Hurricane Andrew--a post he held for 18 difficult months as insurers helped clients rebuild their homes, businesses and lives.
He reactivated the Center in August 2004, spending the next two years helping the industry and its policyholders rebound from Hurricanes Charley, Frances, Jeanne, Ivan, Rita, Wilma--and, of course, Katrina.
But wind wasn't his only disaster experience. He served as co-director of the Disaster Insurance Information Office in New York City in 2001, following the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks that brought down the World Trade Center--just blocks from the headquarters of the Insurance Information Institute, with which Bill was affiliated for 23 years.
Bill also broadcast his positive message about the industry in his long-time radio and Internet program, "It's Your Money!"--for which he won the Golden Torch Award as Communicator of the Year in 1998.
I had the privilege of not only being a guest on Bill's show a few times, but of co-producing one of his programs--a fun two-hours featuring specialty brokers sharing some of my favorite war stories about wacky risks they'd placed or claims they'd handled for the sports and entertainment industry.
Wherever he worked, Bill was tirelessly upbeat in pointing out how insurance literally saved people from ruin, and sometimes even death. His contribution to keeping the public informed about the positive role the industry plays in our economy and personal lives was priceless.
He was also a fun man to be around. Decades after leaving the U.S. Marine Corp., he still walked with rapid strides and a stiff but dignified gait as he approached you across a crowded ballroom at some industry function, hand extended for a strong but never bone-crushing shake. And while not a large person, his barrel chest was always thrust forward, making him seem bigger and more formidable than anyone else in the room.
Actually, it was his larger-than-life personality that made Bill Bailey truly stand out in a crowd. A lawyer by training, and a polished Harvard grad to boot, Bill never put on airs, but always spoke in blunt terms about the reality of any situation.
Bill knew his job in educating the public about how valuable insurance really is in a crisis could often be a thankless one, as people are unfailingly quick to think the worst of his beloved industry. But his spirit never wavered, and neither did his faith in those within this business doing such fine and important work.
Bill Bailey, in some sense, might have lived in the shadow of his far more famous brother, the prominent trial attorney F. Lee Bailey--a fact which he often joked about.
But Bill was a giant within the insurance industry. Anyone who tries to replace him has some mighty big shoes to fill.
My condolences go out to his family--most especially his beloved wife, Irene--as well as to all those hundreds (probably thousands) of people within the industry who knew and worked with him on his quest to show the industry in its best light.
A memorial service will be held on Saturday, Sept. 26, at 11 a.m. at Trinity Church, 730 Main Street in Waltham, Mass.
In lieu of flowers, the family requested that a donation be made to the Scholarship Fund at Belmont Hill School, 350 Prospect Street, in Belmont, Mass. 02478-2662, in memory of Bill Bailey, Class of 1958.
May Bill rest in peace.
