The NECA Years – The Interview Process

The classified pages of The Washington Post offered up a tantalizing listing in the spring of 1975: Managing Editor at the National Electrical Contractors Association (NECA). If I could land that job and work on Electrical Contractor magazine, it would be like getting called up from the minors to play for the Yankees.

At the time, I was Manager of Communications for the National Builders Hardware Association, a much smaller trade group. Besides working on Doors & Hardware magazine, I also drafted speeches for the executive director, shot videos for chapter meetings, and wrote press releases. At NECA, I would be the number-two person on a six-person staff, focusing solely on magazine writing and editing. And Electrical Contractor was a major revenue source for the association, successfully competing for ad dollars against construction industry magazines from McGraw-Hill and other for-profit publishers.

So off went my resume, and soon I got a call to come to NECA’s headquarters to interview with Larry Osius, the editor and publisher. NECA’s offices occupied the entire top floor of the Air Rights Building in Bethesda–the 13th floor. That struck me as odd; in most office buildings, it’s customary to pretend there is no 13th floor. The elevator buttons skip straight from 12 to 14. The day of my interview, I chose not to see this as a bad omen, punched number 13, and was soon ushered in to see my prospective boss.

Larry Osius (OH-see-us) sported a crew cut and came across as a pleasant but no-nonsense fellow. He chain-smoked as he asked rapid-fire questions. Why did I want to leave NBHA? (So I could focus on magazine writing and editing, not speeches and press releases.) Had I ever done paste-up (part of the production process)? A former Associated Press reporter and editor, Osius had a newspaper man’s interviewing style. Soon, his questions veered into the personal.

“Family?”

“Yes, a wife and two kids.”

“I see you live in Falls Church.”

“Yes, we own a townhouse there off Route 7.”

“How does a 25-year-old with a wife and two kids afford a townhouse in Falls Church, Virginia?”

“My parents helped us with the down payment.”

Evidently satisfied, Osius showed me around the magazine staff’s offices, then sent me on my way. He said I’d be hearing from them.

Within a week, I got a call informing me that I’d be meeting with NECA’s executive director, Bob Higgins. Soon, I was back on the 13th floor, sitting across the desk from a gruff man who wore a sour expression as he scanned my resume. I don’t recall much of the conversation, except that Higgins quizzed me about drinking.

“Which has more alcohol? A beer, a glass of wine, or a shot of liquor?” he asked.

“I think they all have the same amount.”

“Hmmm,” he said suspiciously, one Irishman sizing up another.

Afterward, I learned that Higgins had okayed me, but there was one more hurdle to clear before NECA would offer me the job–an evaluation by an industrial psychologist. Evidently, NECA put all of its candidates for management positions through the process to insure a good fit.

“Was I a well-adjusted person who would work hard and play well with others, or a borderline psychotic?”

On the appointed day, I reported to the psychologist’s office on Wisconsin Avenue, close to the D.C. line. His assistant gave me a battery of personality tests designed to reveal whether I was a well-adjusted person who would work hard and play well with others, or a borderline psychotic. Next came a personal interview with Dr. Whomever who asked lots of personal questions about my upbringing, my marriage, and my career ambitions. A less eager person might have bristled at this invasive inquisition, but I actually enjoyed the conversation, cheerfully helping him figure out what made me tick.

Apparently, my results put me on the right side of the well-adjusted-to-psychotic scale, and I got the job. So it was goodbye Doors & Hardware, hello Electrical Contractor!