The tail end of hurricane season — and more
specifically the disastrous flooding of Hurricane Florence — brings to
mind my last serious brush with nature’s fury.
It was 2011, and we had just dropped our youngest off for his first
semester of college in North Carolina, stopped off long enough in
Washington, DC to check in with our daughters (both in college there at
the time), and then sped home up the east coast to Connecticut with
reports of Hurricane Irene’s potential destruction and probable
landfall(s) close behind. We arrived home, unloaded in record time, and
rushed straight to the local hardware store to stock up for the coming
storm.
We weren’t the only ones to do so, of course. And what we had most
hoped to acquire (a generator) was not to be found — there, or at that
moment, apparently anywhere in the state.
What made that situation all the more infuriating was that, while the
prospect of a hurricane landfall near our Connecticut home was
relatively rare, we’d already had one narrow miss with an earlier
hurricane and had then, as on several prior occasions, been without
power, and for extended periods. After each I had told myself that we
really needed to invest in a generator — but, as we know, inertia is a
powerful force, and reasoning that I had plenty of time to do so when it
was more convenient, I simply (and repeatedly) postponed taking action.
Thankfully my dear wife wasn’t inclined to remind me of that at the
time, but the regrets loomed large in my mind.
Retirement Ratings?
People often talk about the retirement crisis in this country, but
like a tropical storm still well out to sea, there are widely varying
assessments as to just how big it is, and — to borrow some hurricane
terminology — when it will make “landfall,” and with what force. Most of
the predictions are dire, of course — and while they often rely on
arguably unreliable measures like uninformed levels of confidence (or
lack thereof), self-reported financials and savings averages — it’s hard
to escape a pervasive sense that as a nation we’re in for some rough
weather, particularly in view of the objective data we do have — things
like coverage statistics and retirement readiness projections based on
actual participant data.
Life is full of uncertainty, and events and circumstances, as often
as not, happen with little if any warning. Even though hurricanes are
something you can see coming a long way off, there’s always the chance
that they will peter out sooner than expected, that landfall will result
in a dramatic shift in course and/or intensity, or that, as with some
(like Florence) — the most devastating impact is what happens afterward.
In theory, at least, that provides time to prepare — but, as I was
reminded when Irene struck, sometimes you don’t have as much time as you
think you have.
Doubtless, a lot of retirement plan participants are going to look
back at their working lives as they near the threshold of retirement,
the same way I thought about that generator. They’ll likely remember the
admonitions about (and their good intentions to) saving sooner, saving
more, and the importance of regular, prudent reallocations of investment
portfolios. Thankfully — and surely because of the hard work of
advisors and plan sponsors — many will have heeded those warnings in
time. But others, surely — and particularly those without access to a
retirement plan at work — may find those post-retirement years (if
indeed they can retire) to be a time of regret.
As retirement advisors are well aware, the end of our working lives
inevitably hits different people at different times, and in different
states of readiness. But we all know that it’s a “landfall” for which we
need to prepare while we still can.
- Nevin E. Adams, JD
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