HOW NOT TO HANDLE A PERSONNEL MATTER: In Nomad News No. 92, I mentioned three things that got my Irish up. The third one was an incident at Al Paul Lefton Advertising. To place things in perspective, I am going back to the end of WW2. When I returned to the Philadelphia Record, a couple of my friends there had been working to have me placed in a better position. The production manager in the Sales Promotion department was Mrs. Virginia Wilton. I learned later on that she was reluctant to take me; fearing that I would not take orders from a woman after being in the army for five years. We didn't have minute one of a problem. I knew nothing. She knew everything. I wanted to learn. She was willing to teach. We got along wonderfully.
After about a year, Mrs. Wilton called me in one day and asked if I would like to work for an advertising agency. Her husband worked at Al Paul Lefton Advertising and they were going to take on a production trainee under the Veterans GI Bill. She told me I would advance quicker there than I would in my current position at the Record. There was only one answer I could give: Yes. My supervisor at Al Paul was Ralph Powell, a chubby jovial character. Fun was written all over him and that is what we had. The boss of the department was Miss Harbison, a dour spinster. Five words was a long-winded conversation with her. She had the reputation of being the best production person in the business in Philadelphia. Her personality stopped at that point. All the production men had secretaries. With me, I was secretary/trainee for Ralph. Ralph was a great teacher and spent a lot of time with me.
After a little over a year, one of the secretaries asked for a $2.00 a week raise and was refused. She quit. That left the production man without a secretary. Ralph was out of the office that day when one of the secretaries, Nancy Sprout, came to my desk with a handful of bills to be typed. She said Miss Harbison told her to give them to me. I got the pick because I could type faster and better than any of the secretaries. I told Nancy I had plenty of my own work to complete and when I finished, I had plans to visit one of the engraving firms, which was part of my training program. Nancy left and was back in a couple of minutes with the bills still in her hand, with this comment: "Miss Harbison said you had to do them, whether you liked it or not." Wrong words. I took the wad of bills, placed them on a corner of my desk, placed a piece of paper in my typewriter and typed out my resignation, two weeks hence. I took the resignation to Miss Harbison, handed it to her. She placed the paper on her desk without comment. I typed the bills. When Ralph returned, I explained what had transpired. His words: "You did the proper thing, although I will miss you."
A week went by and no word from anyone. Then I got a call to come to Vice-President Henry Locheim's office. He had a piece of paper, face down, on his desk and proceeded to tell me how
impressed they were with my progress and were ready to turn over some accounts that I would control personally. The training was over and I would be on my own. He turned the paper over and read off five or six clients I would control. One was a division of Pennsylvania Railroad, one of their largest clients. I thanked him and told him how much I appreciated working for the firm and giving me an opportunity to move upward, but, No Thanks. We shook hands and I walked back to my office desk. A week later I left with not so much as a glance from Miss Harbison in her glass enclosed cubicle.
This is how it should have been handled: All Miss Harbison had to do was, call me into her office; explain that they were in a present jam and would appreciate it if I would help get them over the hump until they hired a new secretary. There was no way I could have refused and gotten my Irish up. What kind of respect would I have had if I had accepted an executive's order from a secretary? Nothing against the secretary, having been one, but you just don't do business in that manner.
I got a job working at Charlie Williamson"s Texaco station, while looking for another position. I was out of work for five weeks and was hired at Food Fair the day before I would receive my first unemployment check. (Copyright 2014 - Andrew M. Dolan)
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