One payment life insurance policy I dream of Genie , Jeanne’s bottle

Jeanne grew up in a small Pennsylvania mining town, where life was as rugged as the coal dust that settled on everything. It was a place where hard work wasn’t just respected—it was expected. The hills surrounding her were filled with coal, steel, and enough grit to make you forget about modern luxuries like, say, a steady paycheck. One week you’d be flush, and the next, you’d be wondering if the coffee budget could stretch to the end of the month. But people didn’t complain; they made do. Complaining was for other towns, the ones without steel-toed boots and work-worn hands.

Now, Jeanne wasn’t about extravagance. Holiday gifts were usually handmade, and a store-bought gift for the kids only came if the year had been unusually productive, like when Cousin Earl struck that one good coal seam. Jeanne had a rainy day fund—nothing fancy, just a few bucks here and there, enough to cover emergencies or the occasional treat.

Her rainy day fund was stashed in a special bottle, a gift from her husband, KC. It wasn’t just any bottle, mind you. It was a replica of the one from I Dream of Jeannie, the old TV show. You know the one, where an astronaut named Tony Nelson rubs a bottle and—poof—out pops a beautiful, mischievous genie. Well, Jeanne and KC would joke about their bottle being magic too. Whenever they needed a little extra cash, KC would give it a rub and say, “Okay, Jeannie, how about dinner out with the gang tonight?” Sometimes, miraculously, the funds would appear. Coincidence? Maybe. But they always got a kick out of pretending it was real magic.

After KC passed at 75—an impressive age for a coal miner—Jeanne found herself dipping into that same bottle, this time for his funeral. A full service, of course. The man was a legend in the community. She managed to pay for everything but watched as her emergency fund dwindled to $50,000. Not bad, but she knew it wouldn’t last forever, especially with grandkids who seemed to have emergencies as often as they had birthdays.

Jeanne was practical, though. She wasn’t about to let the rest of her hard-earned savings trickle away. That’s when she remembered something she’d heard about a Single Premium Life (SPL) insurance policy. “Perfect!” she thought. “I’ll make one payment now, and the policy will grow over time. Plus, if I live to be 90, like most of the whiskey-loving women in my family, I won’t have to worry about payments down the road.”

Enter Tony Nelson. Well, sort of. Jeanne figured if an astronaut could manage a genie, she could handle an insurance policy. So, she visited EstateChecklist.com, filled out a form, and—just like magic—Christopher called her right at the time and date she requested. The process was easy. One payment, policy issued. No more monthly worries. Jeanne had peace of mind and knew that when the time came, her three kids would have their copy of the policy without needing to dive into her magical bottle.

And who knows? Maybe next time she rubs that bottle, Tony Nelson himself will pop out and offer her a ride in a spaceship. In the meantime, if you’re feeling like Jeanne and want to make some magic happen with your own SPL policy, visit EstateChecklist.com. May all your wishes come true—genie or not!