Someday, I should make a proper list. Maybe even make an actual doomsday file.
The thought came up a few years ago, in connection with a small business which was organized as a C corporation but run as a one-man shop with occasional added staff; when the one man died, no one (including his family) had the information needed to get at the business records, bank accounts, or any of those other things needed either to keep the business going or to wind it down in an orderly fashion.
So, a doomsday file: everyone with responsibilities should have one. Think sealed envelope, maybe in a locked desk drawer or moderate-security safe, containing account numbers, passwords, contact information for important people (including the lawyer who has a copy of your will), combination to the vault, override codes for the destruct sequence, and anything else your heirs and successors might need in a hurry if you unexpectedly step in front of a bus. Make sure they know where it is, and in general terms what's in it and why. Also, make sure at least one of them - who doesn't travel with you - has signature authority as appropriate.
And, in case you (or your ex's family) may associate with a questionable crowd, here's another suggestion: a draft suicide note. Make sure you chose the means of your self-inflicted demise, and describe it in sufficient detail that a "suicide" arranged by someone who hasn't seen the note will be very unlikely to match the description. Also, make it clear that it's strictly a draft, but that the method is firmly chosen. Your family and a detective may yet end up thanking you, albeit posthumously.
Yes, this is brought on by the tinfoil-hat political material that's making the rounds again. It's highly unlikely that anyone would bump me off, let alone be all clever about it. For a lot of semi-public figures, though, having something like this squirreled away might just be a good idea.
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