The IRS and Me

October 26, 1975… my official hire date with IRS. What a ride it was. It was with great nostalgia that I prepared to leave, after 33 years, to go on to my new career in elder advocacy. 

     The most serendipitous part of my story is the beginning. I never even applied for a job at the IRS. I graduated from Sacramento State College in 1974 (in 3 years, with honors, I might add!), with a degree in social welfare, and a minor in music. I was planning to be a music therapist, but when I did my fieldwork at Sutter Memorial Hospital, working with autistic children, I found that social work wasn’t for me. I came home dragging, every day. I was even offered a job there after graduation, but I found the whole environment too depressing. 

     I moved back home and took a job as a returns clerk at National Semiconductor.  Being that I was in the semiconductor business, I went back to school at night, taking electronics at West Valley College. A position came open as a Customer Service Representative (“CSR”), and I applied, seeing myself as a candidate with great potential. Well, 1975 wasn’t the time for women in business. There were 35 CSR positions, and only 3 of them were women. I should have seen the handwriting on the wall, but I figured since the job didn’t require a degree, and I had one, I’d be a shoe-in. Hah! I didn’t even get an interview. The job came up again, and the same thing happened. I was so disgusted that I quit, without even having another job. Of course nowadays that’s when one files the lawsuit, but I just quit, in order to be able to seek work full time. I remember my father had a fit, saying, “You NEVER quit a job until you have another one lined up.”  He didn’t buy my argument that it’s impossible to effectively look for a job when you’re working full time.  

     As luck would have it, the IRS called me 10 days after I quit National, and asked if I’d like to be considered for a position as a tax auditor. I had no clue what that was, but I knew my dad was majorly annoyed with me, and I figured I’d better find a job post haste. I had taken a government civil service test after college, called Professional Administrative Career Exam (PACE), and my name was on a list sent over to IRS. When they called me in for an interview, I just assumed it was a formality, that I had the job. Only later did I realize a whole lot depended on that interview. 

     Because there was a hiring freeze coming on, they had to pick us up on a Sunday. And my first paid day on the job was a holiday! I knew right then that I was going to like this job.

     I was actually little prepared for such a job. I had never even paid a utility bill in my life, yet I was to audit small businesses. During my college education, I had never even set foot in the business building. Accounting??? Why would someone take that? Tax return? Hmmm, I think that’s the paper I send in to get my refund, right? One of the interview questions was, “What would you say if you were auditing someone, and found a large error, resulting in additional tax due, but the taxpayer said the preparer put it there?”  

I first asked the panel, “You have to sign a tax return, right?” 

They rolled their eyes and said, “Yesssss”.

“Well then,” says me, “You are responsible for everything on that return.”

Bingo, right answer. I got the job. I was 22 years old.

     My starting salary at IRS was $8,925 annually, which sounds paltry today, but was actually a slight raise from my pay at National. I soon found out that I would have to go back to school yet again, to get 6 units of accounting. Back to West Valley, but imagine this… I loved Accounting 1A and 1B. It all made sense, and was an easy A. Yeah, I’m a sick puppy.

     The best raise I ever got in my entire career was getting my grade 7 in November, 1976. That brought me up to $12,000, the amount I figured I was worth as a college graduate in an entry level job. I actually qualified to be hired at a 7, but they told me “they weren’t hiring at that level”, and take it or leave it. 

     I was hired for the Walnut Creek office, but I never even saw the door. My interview was in San Jose. Training was in San Francisco, and then we worked the Taxpayer Service phones in Oakland during filing season, 1976. By the end of training, I got my transfer to San Jose, where I lived. Because Walnut Creek didn’t qualify for per diem, I had to commute to SF the entire time. I took the 6:13AM train out of San Jose, in order to be at work at 8:00. I did that for 6 months, but I was young then, and survived it just fine. 

     I soon became a favorite of my first manager, Moray Black, because I was willing to take on any case, even the ugliest old dog case that had been reassigned several times. I figured I had to be there 8 hours anyway, so what difference did it make what cases I worked during those 8 hours? They used to laugh that my drawer had barking noises coming out whenever I opened it. I took to my new job as an auditor, enjoying the interview process, and frequently getting closed agreed cases after one appointment. My daily time reports were always turned in on time, always balanced, and I kept my files organized and prepared neatly written, complete workpapers. No wonder my manager appreciated me!

     Looking back, the workload seems mind boggling now, since we were scheduled for 5 interviews a day. And we didn’t have computers. Back then, if we didn’t do a report by hand during the interview, we filled out an input document, and took it to “the NCR machine”, which spit out the audit report, using standard paragraphs. And later we had RGS.  I won’t go there.

     When I went off to college, my mom decided she’d like to give it a go herself, and enrolled in West Valley College as an accounting student. Being married at age 17, she never had that opportunity before. We actually attended summer school together, and she was an A student. She graduated on her 50^th birthday. A year after I hired on to IRS, I became aware of an opening in Taxpayer Service, my mom applied, and she got the job. She worked there for 11 years until she retired, first at the Gish Road office, then later at the “gold building”. My mom taught me to know that we can do anything. From early years when I remember her as a PTA president, band booster mom, costume maker, and healer of all ills, to her final years, when she brightened the space around her with a friendly “Hello” to friends and strangers alike, she was an amazing example of how to make the most of our gifts.

     After 2 years I began getting extra assignments, first as an On-the-Job Instructor, then in 1978 I was selected for classroom instructor training. Basic Instructor Training was the best class I ever attended. I enjoyed it, and enjoyed the teaching gigs I got after that.  My very first class was Unit III, business training for tax auditors. I had only worked such cases for a few months when I found myself teaching it. I made it, but I seriously doubt if I was the best person for the job at that time. I later taught many basic training classes, and always found it interesting and challenging. I scored a long term teaching assignment and moved to San Francisco, where I lived what I thought was a glamorous life as a resident at 2000 Broadway, a very nice Pacific Heights address, with a 1971 silver T-top Corvette, with a personalized plate that said, “RHONDA”. Of course there is no place to park a car in SF, but that’s OK, I just liked having it, and I could look cool on the weekends as I drove out of town. Just to be safe, I also kept my first car, a 1963 Rambler Classic, stored with my parents.

     Around that time I figured out the IRS promotion system, and knew that I was going to need to take more accounting classes if I ever hoped to get ahead. So, off to school again, this time courtesy of the IRS “crossover program”, where tuition at San Jose State was covered so that I could pick up 24 units, qualifying me to become a revenue agent. Meanwhile, a managerial opening came up in San Mateo, and I was selected for the job. With my promotion to grade 11, I was able to buy my first house in San Jose. I sold the Corvette to get the down payment. I still had my old Rambler at the time, and it certainly wasn’t up to a big daily commute, so I had to rely on the train again. The office audit program was expanding at that time, and after a few months I was able to transfer to San Jose, and settled in to a challenging role as a manager. Managing an office audit group was not a walk in the park. The first thing greeting me was an expired statute case that the prior manager had stuffed in a drawer and forgotten. I hated to have my name on an Expired Statute Report my first month on the job, but I hoped my articulate write-up would explain away my part in the ugliness. 

     Business slowed down after I had been a manager just over a year, and one day I received a visit from our Exam Division Chief, asking if I would be interested in becoming a revenue agent. I told him I was just getting into the rhythm of managing a group, and was beginning to enjoy it. Besides, I had a very old car, and didn’t think it would make it if I were to be driving in the field every day. He then, totally inappropriately, asked if I was married. I said, “No”. He asked if I had a boyfriend. I said, “Yes”.  And get this… then he said, “Well tell him to buy you a new car.” For the second time, my career path was being shaped by factors outside my control. My group was being abolished, and they waved a wand and made me a revenue agent. 

     My first experience as a revenue agent was like being on vacation. It was refreshing to be only responsible for myself. I vowed I would never go back into management. My manager at the time was Steve Yurus, a crusty older guy who wasn’t much on paperwork, but knew everything about all the cases open in his group. He said, “Right. I know you. Mark my words, in a little while you’ll be looking around wondering what you can do next.” Prophetic words, indeed.

     Meanwhile, Bill (“the boyfriend”) indeed talked me into buying my first new car, a 5-speed 1982 Honda Accord. I had never driven a 5-speed, but after having a V8 automatic, the new small automatic vehicles just didn’t have enough pickup for me. I killed it trying to drive out of the dealership. But like anything, I soon learned how to handle it, and went about my business as a revenue agent. “The boyfriend” soon became “the husband”, and we figured out we would need a larger house, so bought the house where we now live in August, 1982, and we welcomed our first child, Eddy, in September.  

     My best friend at work was a young woman named Carol Thrift. When we were single, we traveled together and always enjoyed each other’s company. She was so bright, a shining personality with a degree in rhetoric from UC Berkeley. We both became Office Audit managers, and she married and had a little boy just before my first son. We were on parallel life paths. But one day she went home with a headache, and that night went into a coma. Her son Timmy was 7 months old. Knowing that people in a coma can often hear what’s going on around them, I went to sit at her bedside to tell IRS tales so she wouldn’t miss us too much. Her mother Evelyn and sister Susan were also there, so the three of us sat there together. I didn’t know them before. Susan and I were both pregnant, so we were quite a sight. For whatever reason, Carol chose that moment to pass away. I always said that Carol left me her mother. After Carol’s death, I was fast friends with Evelyn for many years until her death. I used to send flowers to Evelyn every year on Carol’s birthday, and later donated flowers to my church on that day every year in their memories. Some 25 years later, Susan wrote a letter of recommendation that helped my youngest son get into Bellarmine College Prep. 

     Meanwhile, things were going really well for me at work. I identified 15 abusive partnerships, and began a project to audit all of the partners. Steve even assigned me another revenue agent to be my assistant. The work was energizing. Throughout all my auditing, my personal motivation was fairness. I paid my taxes, and I felt that everyone else should, too. Around that time, San Jose District was formed. I became the W-4 Coordinator, and ended up working in Mel Steiner’s fraud group. The sky was the limit. I was empowered to manage the program any way I saw fit. I received tremendous support and resources to pull it off. I felt that visibility and news coverage was the key to compliance in that area, so I put together teams from Exam, Collection, and Criminal Investigation to go to job sites to call in non-filers who had filed exempt W-4’s, help them see the light about proper withholding, levy paychecks, and secure delinquent returns. I wrote press releases and ended up seeing the local IRS office have an increase in walk-in traffic of people who wanted to come clean. 

     On the laurels from the W-4 program, I became a field group manager, detailed as all new managers were at the time, to a unit where I managed a group of agents on detail cranking out audit reports for partners in tax shelters. That was actually OK for me, as I was busy having my second child, Austin, at that time. In 1986, as I was in the late stages of pregnancy, Mel convinced me that if I didn’t sit for the CPA exam then, “with all those little kids running around”, I’d never do it. So I signed up for the Lambers review course, and took the test in 1986. The CPA exam went from Wed-Fri, and I delivered that baby on Monday after the test. I was at work, and thought I might be in labor, but was trying desperately to finish up a case before I went on maternity leave. I worked until 2:30, drove myself to Kaiser, had the baby, and was on the phone back to the office before 4:30, letting them know it was over, and baby Austin had arrived. They were floored. In retrospect, I never should have driven myself to the hospital, and I was VERY uncomfortable driving around looking for a parking place. Imagine if I had gotten stuck in traffic on 280! It all happened so fast that Bill missed it. I called him from Kaiser, not sure when the blessed event would occur, and he left work right away, but missed it by 10 minutes. But I got the case closed! 

     I did well on the CPA exam, even in my awkward condition. I scored an 88 in practice, the double section, and a 75 would have been enough to pass. Again, lucky circumstances came my way. For the first time ever, one of the problems on the exam was to reconcile book and tax income, something I had been doing on the job every day as a revenue agent. After qualifying experience, I became a CPA in 1988. I also had my third son, Brian, in Dec, 1988. I only made it to the hospital 5 minutes before that delivery, so it’s a good thing I didn’t have a fourth child :) 

     With the formation of the San Jose District, numerous opportunities arose in many areas. I decided to ask for the excise tax group, since it was open, and nobody else wanted it. I saw it as an opportunity to learn something entirely new, and to be independent and different from the rest of the field managers. Initially the group consisted of general program, excise, and employment agents. Gradually the excise program grew to be a full group, and I settled into my niche as an excise group manager, figuring I was forever to be part of “the excise family”. I always liked excise tax because we don’t have NOL’s (net operating losses)… whatever adjustments we make have a real effect, NOW. 

     After working 25 years at IRS under the name “Rhonda Janes”, what a shock one day to find out I was going to have to change my name to “Bump”. People looking for me in the directory figure I must have retired already, since that Janes person is no longer there. You see, after 9/11, the government started matching all the databases, and the DMV refused to renew my license because there was a mismatch. Once in frustration at being hassled over trying to cash my husband’s paycheck, I used his name, Bump. The DMV insisted that I either go change my name at Social Security, or produce a divorce decree restoring my maiden name. Being that we’re still married, that didn’t seem reasonable. I liked the name Janes, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort to fight it, so I became Rhonda Janes Bump.

     I had several opportunities for developmental assignments during my tenure as excise manager. We had excess managers at one point, so when I came back from my last maternity leave, I volunteered for an assignment to large case. I learned a lot, but found it to move too slowly for my taste. I guess I did OK, though, because I found a $5m error in a spreadsheet when I was working research credit. I had a temporary promotion to a case manager position, and worked through a couple case openings during that time. I was glad to come back to excise, though, and the manager position eventually became a grade 14. 

     As excise manager, I was involved in the rollout of the dyed diesel program, working on the initial training for fuel inspectors for IRS and the states of CA and WA. I loved working out in the field with the fuel program, and quickly became a resident expert on the ExFON system used to record the inspections. I negotiated the first contract with the California Highway Patrol, allowing our fuel inspectors to work at weigh stations and mobile inspection sites. We worked closely with the CA Air Resources Board, and our efforts resulted in penalties for misuse of dyed diesel fuel, and later increased compliance. Eventually the fuel compliance program was split off from the regular excise groups, and I had to give up my involvement and supervision of the fuel compliance officers. I didn’t want to give up any of my employees, but there was no choice.

     Another interesting assignment was in 2003 when the estate tax manager had to be off for open heart surgery. I managed the estate tax attorneys for a couple months, and managed to learn just enough about estate and gift tax to be dangerous. My many years of management experience came in handy when dealing with that crew. Coming from an exam background, I was quick to see that the group needed some serious inventory management guidance. Although it required a great deal of technical knowledge, I set about trying to learn it, starting with self-study MicroMash crash courses. By the end of the assignment, I had cleared out the closure cabinets, and the manager came back to a fresh start. 

     In 2005 I was assigned to a task group to roll out a national quality program for Specialty Tax. I went to the group representing Excise, but ended up becoming the National Quality Review Manager, the job I dubbed “my sunset job”. I owe my selection to this fantastic position to Dick Hammond. I figured I’m probably the only manager who has experience managing groups from all three specialties: excise, employment, and E&G. So when I suggested that I be allowed to start up the program, by lateral transfer from excise group manager to NQRS group manager, Dick supported me, and the boss liked the idea. I was again energized by a new challenge. This was my dream job, working with all grade 13 examiners who were the best in their field. I was so fortunate to have great employees throughout this assignment. But I knew my time would be limited, since a retirement plan was formulating. In 2006 I began working as a volunteer ombudsman (advocate) for the elderly in long term care. This is a Federal and state-funded program, mandated by law, designed to protect the rights of the elderly in nursing homes and assisted living facilities. I used annual leave to attend the 40-hour training course, and for the last 8 years I have been visiting these homes every week.  I investigate complaints and try to achieve resolution through appropriate action such as mediation, education, or referral to a regulatory agency, and I witness advance health care directives. My post-retirement plan was to specialize in investigation of financial abuse of elders. With my investigative background, and professional credibility as a CPA, I believe I can make a difference in the lives of people who are at risk for abuse. I was inspired to become an ombudsman by an experience I had with my mom in a nursing home. She had broken her back, and was in a great deal of pain. The staff was neglectful and didn’t seem to care that she was suffering. She needed me there to be her advocate. I began wondering how other patients got by if they didn’t have any family or friends to advocate for them. When I saw an announcement soliciting volunteers in my church bulletin, I jumped at the opportunity.    

     Now for a bit of life philosophy… For  5 years I wore a blue wrist band that says, “NEVER EVER GIVE UP.” It represents a fundraiser by JW Knapen, a boy at my son’s high school, who when diagnosed with terminal brain cancer, decided to focus on how he might help others with medical struggles of their own. He set about fulfilling his vision of the JW House, a place where families can stay close together outside Kaiser Hospital in Santa Clara, CA, when their loved ones experience long hospitalizations. His efforts were heroic, and the JW House has been built. I purchased wrist bands to give to all the girls in the church young women’s group that I led. I wanted them to know that no matter what your circumstances, anything is possible. My wrist band is purple now, in support of the Alzheimer's Assn, but I still support the JW House.

     I keep myself pretty busy, doing all sorts of things that just seem right to me.  Once I was at an IRS meeting when the facilitator asked us to fill out a name card, and write what they might say about us at our funeral, or if that was too morbid, at our retirement. I kept that name card, and still have it displayed on the shelf in my office. It has a heart with “Mom  3” in the middle, representing the most important thing in my life, my 3 sons, and it says, “Rhonda… Always tried to do the right thing”, with a butterfly sticker to help me know when to let it go. I take with me my Aunt MariLynn’s philosophy, and spread it wherever I go. (See the prior blog, and always remember not to spend $50 worth of emotion on a $5 problem. Just let it fly away like a butterfly.) It serves as a physical reminder to make sure you have your life’s priorities in order. Go enjoy your life, but make it meaningful. Find “the right thing” to do, and just do it.