I’d accepted the Epic job! Now, the “adulting” stage of my life would begin. The first panic wasn’t about moving my stuff. Moving I’d perfected over the last 4 years of college: stuff absolutely everything I could into my car and on-my-way! This would be a bit more “permanent” ideally and would involve a few more trips to get things that I hadn’t normally taken to college with me (like a bed!). Thankfully, the trip from my childhood home to Madison was shorter too, so the move wasn’t a U-Haul like experience yet.

No, the first real panic was: “where was I going to live!?”

On Moving to Madison

I’d either lived at home or in a college dormitory since birth. I’d never needed to navigate any self-arranged rental housing. As with the job hunt, back in 1993, there was no Internet with dozens of ways to look for apartments. I had to … well, I wasn’t exactly sure. There were some apartments listed in the back of the same newspapers I’d found Epic’s job advertisement in, but the majority were people renting rooms. That wasn’t at all something this small town boy wanted to do. I’d had enough of sharing space with hundreds of other people in the dorms and didn’t want anything like that for the forseeable future. Those that were multi-units that seemed like possibilities I plotted on a PAPER MAP. What this young first-time-renter, first full-time-employment guy needed was a bit of help.

Need Help!

I’m confident that I’m one of the ONLY people to ever have done this after getting a job at Epic as it relates to finding housing:

I called Judy to ask advice.

Yes, I called Judy asking if she or anyone else at Epic knew of apartments or even areas of Madison they’d recommend. Seriously. I called her. She never acted like it was a problem (as I don’t think it was), but if you recall from my previous post, I didn’t know she was also the President and Owner of Epic. I called a few times about several topics, but I no longer remember what the others were. I hadn’t been introduced to my mentor yet, that call was much too late for things like this. I’m not even sure if my team assignment had been completed yet.

I don’t honestly know if she followed up with my request for help or not as I didn’t hear anything back (but I left it in such a way that I didn’t expect a “no answers” call). I’ll talk later about Epic’s early internal communication system. Just a hint — there was no “e-mail” or Microsoft Teams like you know today when I started.

Eventually, I drove up to Madison around areas I was interested in one day and stopped in at some of the larger apartment complexes that had availability, looked decent, and were easy drives to Epic. I looked at least 4 or 5 (it was time consuming!). I narrowed it to 2 and then selected a place called “Harbor House” which wasn’t the best choice in hindsight. Apparently, Harbor House also wasn’t a good business model for the owners, as they eventually owed bags of money in back-taxes to the city of Madison and later sold the complex off as condos.

Next up is Day 1 at Epic.

I don’t know if Epic started to provide any general listings to new hires of apartment complexes that had treated employees well (maybe with some discounts?). I know eventually there were some Epic discounts available around town.

If you haven’t read parts 1 and 2, start there instead.

An Interview with Jake

Shortly after my second interview with Epic, I received a phone call from State Farm Insurance, at the time headquartered in Bloomington, Illinois. Having attended my university in that same city, I knew where their corporate campus was and the influence they had on the local community. They had a lot of employees — doing whatever insurance companies do (heck, I know generally, but I don’t know why they have so many employees).

The position was in Data Processing. They didn’t call it software development for Legacy Corporate Executive Decision Reasons. I hated the name, but again, it was a job. I didn’t really want to work there or live in Bloomington. I wasn’t getting job offers left and right, the choice was made.

It was a three and a half hour drive one way. Unlike Epic which encouraged even then a business casual dress code for interviewees, State Farm was a Suit and Tie Wearing Culture. Ugh. Suit culture added to the list of reasons I didn’t want this job. But, as my mother said, I wouldn’t need to work there forever. I could look for other jobs. Sure. That was Mom-speak: “Just try something honey.”

I remember only one interview. I imagine there must have been more, but one struck me and haunts me to this day.

Don’t Interview Like State Farm and Don’t Interview “Corporate-Style”

Someone from State Farm (his name could have been Jake, I don’t remember) explained to me across from their glorious giant wooden desk in a characterless office with a required arrangement of potted plants and photo of a potentially stock-photo family:

“Data Processing is a wonderfully planned career option at State Farm. Blah Blah. You start at Level One and in 5 years, you may be promoted to Level Two, Blah Blah.”

He might have said 3 years, but he may have as well said 20 years. The forced waiting period to be able to advance a career based on time served rather than skill and achievements sent a chill down my spine that I can still feel today. The lack of career growth wasn’t enough though:

“Tell me 5 things that you’re not good at.”

I had mentally prepared for these stupid questions.

The Career Center at my university had nearly covered it. I had only prepared 3! No one had asked for more than 3 before. Here’s the State Farm interviewer, needing 5 to prove that I would be worthy of being a State Farm Data Processor.

I expect that you’re thinking I would be super honest.

I was. I said I didn’t have more, but I didn’t add what I wanted to say: “you gotta freaking be kidding me. How is this providing any value to you?!” I recall stumbling my way through a fourth on the fly, but didn’t make it to his five.

If I hadn’t heard in my head my mother saying, “don’t give up,” I would have walked out of the interview right there and then. The rest of the interview process took place in that room. No helpful tours, nothing. There may have been some sort of test that I took, but I’ve blocked it all but this one key incident.

I imagined what it would be like: a sea of endless cubicles, stretched as far as the horizon, everyone wearing dark suits while quietly pecking away at corporate issued keyboards staring at glowing green-screen terminals. An occasional festive necktie, probably celebrating they’d decided to quit. It was like a movie scene from a secret government storage facility, with endless rows of crates stacked …, but in this case, with cubicles with bright fluorescent lighting that was thoroughly bright yet extraordinarily exhausting at the same time.

I didn’t meet a manager that day to find out what torture I would have endured experienced day to day. I think I may have met a few Data Processors but I don’t remember any specifics. They certainly didn’t provide a lasting impression. I knew I didn’t want a job, and they weren’t offering any meaningful interaction that could have served as “interview practice.” I’m sure they thought I was quiet; I’d already mentally put in my resignation papers. Sincerely, I didn’t care. I might have looked for hints that they were telling me to RUN RUN RUN.

I could not work there.

I also knew that day that I never ever ever wanted to interview someone else using that technique in the future. If a company I worked for asked me to do that, I wouldn’t.

If I had been asked about projects in college and how I’d handled adversity and overcome programming challenges, not only would the interviewer likely gotten less canned responses, but I would have left feeling far better about the interview and State Farm. (Except it still wasn’t a job that I would have wanted).

I drove home with a healthy mixture of anger, relief, and disappointment. It was an absolute waste of a day after driving 7 hours, but my mother and father were happy that I’d tried.

The Epic Call

That night, I’d guess around 8pm, I received a call from a woman at Epic that I hadn’t met during my interviews. She gave me her name, but not her role at Epic. She said her name was Judy and she wanted to offer me a job!

She told me the salary and me, oversharing honest Aaron, said I was very excited, and that I was also disappointed because I’d just driven 7 hours for a job interview that day. I’m sure she thought it was odd I mentioned that, but, that is me. I accepted the offer on the phone (which in hindsight wasn’t an effective negotiation tactic for a small salary increase). At the time, I assumed she was in HR. (In fact, she was in many ways, as Epic had no formal HR department for a few more years.)

So, good timing: one day earlier and I wouldn’t have had the experience of learning how to not interview a candidate.

Don’t Give Up, Keep Practicing

I wasn’t in a position to give up. I know when to stop working on something (plenty of stories about that to come and how to weigh those decisions). Getting my first job was a necessary step.

But, what I did do was keep learning and tinkering while looking for a job. While I didn’t have access to the Internet to explore new technology and such, I did have access to my trusty Borland C/C++ compiler (legally obtained thank-you very much education discount), so I kept coding. Nothing groundbreaking or patent worthy by any means, but I kept my skills active and practiced, in spite of not having a particular target. I knew software development was my future, so I had to keep doing it as often as possible.

I know that some readers are actively looking for a job. Maybe because you were let go, maybe because you’re itching to try something new, or maybe because you’re looking to get your first job (or many other reasons). To you I say, keep at it. You don’t need to spend 8 hours a day pounding at a keyboard to keep sharp. I strongly recommend not doing that unless you have a specific tangible goal in mind. Instead of aimlessly coding, try to broaden your knowledge. Read about technology, business, history, stories of success, failures, interviews with creators, and anything else. Keep your mind active. Get away from the glowing screen for a while, play a board game, go for a walk, talk with your kids, your friends, or even your pets, whatever!

There’s an opportunity out there for you. It just may take some time for them to realize you’re the one.

Questions

If you were job-hunting before the internet, how did you find your first employment?

If you got a job at Epic before they had an Internet presence, how did you hear about them?

If you haven’t read part 1, start there instead.

An Interview with Epic

It was about a week later that I spotted a job in a Madison, Wisconsin newspaper from a company: EPIC SYSTEMS CORPORATION.

The advertisement was very Epic like and left out a lot of details, but they were searching for software developers. Given this was the pre-Internet-answers-all-your-questions days, I couldn’t find anything meaningful about them at my local library (yes, I tried!). But, it was a software development job so I sent my resume in. The job advertisement wasn’t so bad that the opportunity sounded terrible in any way, it just lacked detail.

I got a call about a week later from an Epic employee and went through some basic phone-screening type questions (I honestly don’t remember who phone screened me which I feel bad about!). That phone screen proceeded into an in-person interview (I think there was a follow-up call for this). I was told that my interview afternoon would be a mix of in-person and some test taking. Nervous, but job-needy, I agreed on a time and date.

Anyone who’s worked at Epic or who has applied to Epic knows the drill. While the specifics have changed over the years, the core hasn’t. You’re paraded around, meet some people who mostly just talk about their day and what they do, you’re asked some questions (full well knowing that you’ve only been to college, so the questions aren’t very deep), and then you TAKE A TEST (or two or three).

As I mentioned, the specific tests have of course changed many times but the spirit hasn’t. Back then, the first test was basically a programming language comprehension test for what seemed like it must be a made up programming language; this programming language had some peculiar traits and definitely wasn’t familiar.

It wasn’t till I was hired and started learning the programming language MUMPS (also known as M, AKA Caché Object Script, etc.) that it was clear that one of the tests covered a “must be a made-up programming language” was in fact heavily inspired by MUMPS (and a spiritual predecessor MIIS that Epic had used). The second test was more traditional, presenting a series of questions that needed to be hand-coded in a programming language of my choice. I know I chose C as it was something I was familiar with at the time. The other programming languages I knew at the time would have hardly impressed the Epic test-graders.

One often-forgotten aspect regarding the Epic programming tests is that there’s a mix of speed and accuracy that plays into the final evaluation. Fast and highly accurate is most desirable of course. They don’t tell you this and even if you know it, how it affects your behavior may not change. Being fast with poor code isn’t a great way to land a job generally speaking.

I know that I spent an extraordinary amount of time reviewing my code since I was told I had something like 3 hours to complete the work. I’m sure on pass number three through my code that it wasn’t time well spent. But, I didn’t know that I was being measured on time as well. In hindsight, I should have considered it and only made one or two passes.

A week later, a second call! I’d done OK on the tests. They’d like me to come back in and do another round of interviews with some team leaders and managers. I was excited. As my schedule was wide open, I scheduled it for as soon as they could make it work.

Upon arriving at the then HQ of Epic on Medical Circle Drive in Madison, I was told that it was customary to do an interview with the founder of Epic, but she was traveling on a sales trip that day. I can’t say that I was disappointed by that as the very idea had made me nervous.

I met with 5 team leaders from around Epic on that second interview day. They only had about 8 at the time, so I met most of them that were in R&D. Everyone was pleasant and didn’t ask any tough questions.

Except for one.

She’d gotten her playbook straight from the interviewing books I think. (You’ll find out more about her later and why this became funnier over the years).

“Why do you want this job?”

I’m usually open and direct with others. I suppose I could have come up with a line of crap. But, that’s not me. I’d rather be honest. I took a risk.

Be Thoughtfully Honest

I just want a job.

Aaron, July 1993

That was honest. My internal warning systems flashed for a moment, but dimmed. But, it was the truth. Through all the interviews and testing, I really didn’t have a good picture of what I’d be doing at Epic if I got the job and it wasn’t clear what software they needed help with. All these years later and I still remember sitting there in the small Rosewood conference room saying that.

Epic commonly places employees on teams after interviewing successfully unless a specific request for a team or work is approved. I’m not faulting them for not telling me, but the actual things that they were doing didn’t make much sense to me as I’d had zero experience with “healthcare software.” I couldn’t get excited about a particular application or piece of functionality.

“My gosh, insurance billing software challenges sounds like keen fun.”

That’s just not something you’d hear me say without a giggle. (While there are definitely some technical and algorithmic challenges dealing with mass amounts of data in a timely fashion—billing software is just not my normal cup of tea).

Now, I’m generally “fast on my feet” and added something jokingly about how my parents wanted me to start working soon anyplace, and yadda yadda. I did think to add “I don’t care as long as it’s a programming job–that’s what I’m interested in.”

She wrote down my response. I could tell that she wasn’t prepared for my honesty by her reaction. My final interview was with the TL of the Resolute billing team. The interview was fine, but again, she failed to convey what the team needed and was doing to this recent college graduate. (Again, I don’t fault any of them for failing to do this well, the products are complex and difficult to discuss with an outsider in 30 minutes and have time for back and forth questions). Remember, these were green-screen style terminal applications that Epic was selling at the time, so showing working software wasn’t particularly compelling either.

Sometimes Dumb Timing Happens

Shortly after my second interview with Epic, I received a phone call from State Farm Insurance, at the time headquartered in Bloomington, Illinois. Having attended my university in that same city, I knew where their corporate campus was and the influence they had on the local community. They had a lot of employees — doing whatever insurance companies do (heck, I know generally, but I don’t know why they have so many employees).

I’ll talk more about this in my next post.

Question

If you took an Epic programming test, what programming language did you use? Was it hand-written or online? Did you ever learn your score?

Finding Employment

The summer after I graduated from my university I was struggling to find jobs that would fit my set of skills:

• University degree: Bachelor of Arts in Natural Science (there’s a non-Epic story there!)
• Limited summer employment experience: A database admin/internal tool development at a local truss and home building manufacturer which is no longer in business (shout out to dBase for being a wonderfully OK thing at the time)
• National Science Foundation paid summer program with room, board, and and access to an extremely expensive true parallel processor (admittedly, my 3 year old iPhone is far more amazing tech — but the parallel processor was quite revolutionary at the time)
• A lot of side hacking in my ample free time

Admittedly, that wasn’t much. While I would have liked to add: “unlimited potential,” that didn’t seem to be appropriate to include.

Discovering job opportunities before the Internet had taken off was an extraordinary experience. The great explorers Indiana Jones and Lara Croft had it easy in comparison finding previously lost and hidden treasures.

The Official Search™ process consisted of buying local newspapers and checking want-ads. My parents received a daily local newspaper and we’d buy one or two Sunday giant editions to get broader coverage every week. Occasionally, I’d get my hands on the giant newspaper that was Chicago Tribune back in the 1990s. Forests shook at the amount of paper used in each edition.

There wasn’t much to find. Back in the early 1990s there weren’t many software development or software engineering roles. There wasn’t a spicy-hot SaaS startup on every street corner like today. Recruiters weren’t banging on my door begging me to interview. It was surprising if the day’s want-ads had a single relevant job that matched my extensive credentials and the types of jobs I was vaguely interested in.

Weeks passed since graduation. I sincerely wanted to get a job. I bought my first 10-speed bicycle and helmet, but that wasn’t a marketable talent. My parents were starting to hint that maybe a temporary job at a local business would be great in the interim. It was never very serious though as there weren’t any local — the drive back and forth and gas costs and insurance cost increases would have nearly meant that I’d volunteered my time essentially. So, I kept looking. (My parents had done the math too, they knew it wasn’t really an option, but it was a game we were playing to get me out of the house.)

I did send in my resume to any reasonable match (I likely included a chillingly generic cover letter as well but have long since blocked that out of my memories). The experience of a job hunt hasn’t changed much. Often nothing. No calls, not a rejection letter.

However I did hear back from a software company called Parsons Software in Cedar Rapids, Iowa that isn’t in business anymore AFAIK (OK, an update, turns out the then owner of the company later went on to found GoDaddy). After a few phone screens, I was invited to an in-person interview. I’d never driven to the city or that part of Iowa. For those including myself who are dependent on GPS today: all I had was an old-school Rand McNally map and some handwritten instructions for the last part of the drive.

I hadn’t by any means oversold my expertise in the phone conversations. I said what I’d done in school and what I’d done outside of school.

To my shock however, during the interview, they made it clear that there was another person interviewing for the position that had better experience and credentials. Spectacular. Why tell me that? It was like a warning shot. A pointless clarification. I expected that other candidates had applied for the job and that they were interviewing others. But telling me I wasn’t at the top of the list was demoralizing and pointless. Thanks for wasting my time and yours.

Taunting is Terrible

I expect that the culture of this company (that no longer exists I’m sure in no part to their brilliant hiring techniques) wasn’t actually a friendly place. Taunting a candidate with: “you’re not as good as the other candidate” is awful and disrespectful. It helped me understand the culture of the company far better than nearly anything else that happened that day.

The remainder of the interviews weren’t, as far as I recall, particularly interesting. We went out for lunch (which was awkward for uncomfortable reasons I won’t share here) and I remember distinctly trying to find the least messy and least likely foods on the menu that might get stuck in a front tooth. As a future interviewer that did lunches with candidates routinely, I know how these meals aren’t the best for many candidate personalities.

I’m surprised they didn’t make me pick my second choice for food at lunch.

I remember taking my senior project with me on a floppy disk and the code to show them as a demonstration of skills. It was a DOS-based app with “windows” that could pop up, be moved, and a basic data entry app. It was an impressive app and went way beyond what other students had done for the same assignment. I know the professor at the time didn’t even fully grasp how I’d built the app. Shrug. That was and still is how I operate.

Good news! I apparently matched their lowered expectations adequately. I received no job offer. I didn’t want to work there, but I had no other options, so I was a bit disappointed that I couldn’t turn the offer down. While I was anything but “business-savvy” at the time, I was keenly aware that the software they were building was very niche and unlikely to have many customers knocking down their doors for new versions.

It was about a week later that I spotted a job in a Madison, Wisconsin newspaper from a company: EPIC SYSTEMS CORPORATION.

Questions

What was your worst interviewer experience?

No More Epic: February 5, 2021

Three years ago, I walked the halls of Epic as an employee one last time. I’d spent 25 years plus a few days at Epic. During the days of a COVID-19 mandated work-from-home policy there were no in-person farewells on my last day.

There were no interviews with HR. Not even a largely ceremonial turning-in of my keycard. I’d been at Epic on weekends and this felt quieter. There were a few staff on campus, but those that were there had their doors closed as they were “sheltered in place.” Normally busy occupancy sensors had no employees to keep a watchful eye over. The hallways were dark.

I’ll spend a few posts talking about my reason for departure later.

But this is also the beginning of something new that I’ve been cooking for too long. It’s my story at Epic and life lessons I learned along the way. You can read about the basics here if you want to get a bit more background.

(Oh, and I haven’t been back to the Epic campus for any other reason since my last day.)

Goodbye Epic. Hello next adventures and I’m glad you’re you’re here for the journey!

Your Journey

If you worked at Epic and left on your own to find a new adventure at a new job, why did you leave? Did your change match your expectations?

Or are you thinking about leaving? What is it you’re looking to change?