Chris Adolph v. State Farm Fire and Casualty Company
What's This Case About?
Let’s get one thing straight: State Farm, the folks in the red bowtie who promise to be “like a good neighbor,” are now being sued for allegedly acting like the worst neighbor—dragging their feet, lowballing a claim, and forcing a couple to hire a lawyer just to get their roof fixed after a hailstorm. And not just any roof. We’re talking about a full-on, total roof replacement that State Farm eventually admitted was necessary—a year after the storm, and only after the homeowners’ contractor called them out for missing basically the entire problem. That’s like showing up to a fire with a squirt gun, then pretending you didn’t see the flames until someone hands you a fire extinguisher and says, “Dude, look up.”
Meet Chris and Mariia Adolph—a married couple living in Tulsa, Oklahoma, where hailstorms hit like nature’s own personal vendetta. They own a home at 9932 S. 78th E. Ave., pay their insurance premiums like responsible adults, and—get this—actually read their policy. Shocking, we know. Their insurer? None other than State Farm Fire and Casualty Company, the insurance giant that spends millions telling us they’ve got our backs. And for a while, everything was fine. Premiums paid, policy active, life humming along. Then, on May 21, 2024, Oklahoma did what Oklahoma does: it unleashed a furious wind and hailstorm that turned roofs into Swiss cheese. The Adolphs’ home was hit. Shingles damaged. Gutters mangled. Metal valleys bent. The whole shebang. So, like any reasonable person with insurance, they called State Farm. They filed a claim—claim number 36-78X9-89B, if you’re taking notes—and waited for the cavalry to arrive.
But instead of a knight in shining armor, they got an adjuster who apparently believed in minimalism. On January 15, 2025—nearly eight months after the storm—State Farm finally sent someone to inspect the property. And what did this inspector see? According to the lawsuit, he spotted exactly six turtle vents, 215.25 feet of valley metal, and 345 feet of gutters needing work. That’s it. No mention of the shingles. No acknowledgment that the roof was basically held together by hope and duct tape. State Farm then cut the Adolphs a check for $673.02—after the deductible. Let’s be clear: that’s not enough to fix a roof. That’s enough to buy a decent lawnmower. Or, more realistically, pay for one-third of a roofing contractor’s diagnostic visit.
Unsurprisingly, the Adolphs hired a contractor of their own. And surprise, surprise—this guy actually looked at the roof. What he found was, well, a disaster. Missing shingles. Widespread damage. Structural concerns. The kind of stuff that, if left unattended, turns a roof repair into a full-house renovation when the next rainstorm decides to move in permanently. The contractor estimated the real cost of repairs: a complete roof replacement. He even did the polite thing and asked State Farm to come back and take a second look. State Farm said no. So the Adolphs did what any sane person would do when a multi-billion-dollar corporation treats your home like a game of “Spot the Damage”: they called a lawyer.
Enter Ashley Leavitt of Holbrook Leavitt & Associates, PLLC, who filed this petition with the kind of surgical precision that suggests she’s seen this movie before. On December 5, 2025—over a year after the storm—the Adolphs submitted a partial proof of loss based on their contractor’s estimate. And finally, finally, State Farm blinked. They agreed to a second inspection. January 6, 2026. Adjuster returns. Takes a real look. And what do you know? Suddenly, the roof does need to be replaced. The very same damage that was “invisible” in January 2025 was now “obviously catastrophic” in January 2026. And get this—State Farm admitted the damage had been there since the original storm. So either the roof magically deteriorated over a year of being ignored, or State Farm just didn’t bother doing their job the first time.
So why are we in court? Two reasons, spelled out in legalese but simple in spirit. First, breach of contract—which, in plain English, means: “You took our money. You promised to fix our roof if it got damaged. It got damaged. You didn’t fix it. Now pay up.” The Adolphs aren’t asking for a vacation home in the Bahamas. They’re asking for $69,531.56—the actual cost to repair what the storm broke. That’s not an outrageous sum for a full roof replacement, especially with labor, materials, and the fact that Oklahoma roofing contractors aren’t exactly working for exposure. For context, that’s less than the average cost of a new car. Less than a luxury wedding. And yet, State Farm made them sue for it.
The second claim is juicier: bad faith. This isn’t just about failing to pay—it’s about how they failed to pay. In insurance law, companies have a legal duty to treat their customers fairly. They can’t ignore evidence. They can’t delay forever. They can’t send an adjuster who only sees the shiny parts and call it a day. The Adolphs allege State Farm did all of that—and worse. They claim the insurer knew the damage was there, chose to underpay, refused a second inspection for months, and only acted when legal pressure mounted. That’s not just stingy. That’s a pattern. And in Oklahoma, when an insurer acts in bad faith, you can sue for punitive damages—meaning, “Hey, you made a ton of money by screwing us over. Now give some of it back as a lesson.”
And that’s exactly what the Adolphs want: not just their $69,531.56, but more than $75,000 in punitive damages. Plus attorney fees. Plus interest. Plus a jury trial, because they’re not about to let some insurance bean counter decide their fate behind closed doors. Is $69k a lot? For a roof, sure. But for a company that made $8 billion in profit last year? It’s a rounding error. The real cost is reputational. Because cases like this don’t just expose one bad claim—they expose a system where insurers know most people won’t fight back. They bank on frustration. On fatigue. On the fact that you’d rather live with a leaky roof than spend a year in court.
And that’s the most absurd part. The Adolphs didn’t want drama. They didn’t want a lawsuit. They wanted a roof that doesn’t leak when it rains. They played by the rules. Paid their premiums. Reported the damage. Waited. Asked nicely. Gave State Farm two whole years to do the right thing. And only when that failed—only when they were forced to hire a lawyer just to get an inspection—did the company finally admit what should’ve been obvious in 2024. This isn’t just about money. It’s about power. And we’re rooting for the homeowners, because if a couple can’t trust their insurance company after a storm, what’s the point of the bowtie?
Case Overview
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Chris Adolph
individual
Rep: Ashley Leavitt, OBA #32818
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Mariia Adolph
individual
Rep: Ashley Leavitt, OBA #32818
- State Farm Fire and Casualty Company business
| # | Cause of Action | Description |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | Breach of Contract | Plaintiffs allege that State Farm failed to pay for storm damages under their insurance policy. |
| 2 | Bad Faith | Plaintiffs allege that State Farm acted in bad faith by underpaying and delaying their claim. |