“I’ve learned that I’m stronger than people often expect.”
I got my first job during the summer between seventh and eighth grades at a tiny restaurant on East Sprague called Joaquin’s. In the mornings Joaquin served the best donuts you’d ever taste, and by lunchtime he was cooking authentic Mexican food while I handled just about everything else: the hostess stand and register, waiting tables, and washing dishes. I worked there for two or three summers.
In high school I began helping my mom, who had taken a second job with a custodial service cleaning a bank. Before long it was mostly me—even though I wasn’t officially the one employed. Somehow fifteen-year-old Dotty, who still rode her bike to work, ended up holding the keys to a bank.
Then I got married. At seventeen. Which means I spent my entire senior year as a married woman. We even went to prom as husband and wife. By then I was expecting our first child. Today, if one of my granddaughters came to me with that same plan, I might be tempted to quietly lock the door and suggest we revisit the conversation in a few years. But at the time, we truly believed we were stepping responsibly into adulthood.
A year later my husband was working in Alaska, I was home with our ten-month-old baby, and I wanted to work. I walked into a staffing agency and said—with all the confidence of a nineteen-year-old—“I need a job.” They gave me a typing test and reviewed my résumé. About a week later they sent me to the Spokane branch of a national law firm on the twentieth floor of the Seafirst Building.
I interviewed with the office manager, who told me she had already selected her two finalists. But a couple of days later I was called back and hired on the spot by corporate HR. After three years there, I told the managing partner, “I can do more than be a receptionist. I’d like the opportunity to do more.” He told me the front desk was where they needed me. I realized it was time to move on.
In total I spent about twelve years working for various law firms around town. I earned my paralegal certification by attending night classes at Gonzaga, wrote prospectuses to sell stocks, and worked with the former U.S. Attorney for Eastern Washington. But by 1996 I was divorced, raising two amazing sons, and ready for a change.
I found an ad for a project secretary through another employment agency. They scheduled an interview at Bouten for 8:00 on a Monday morning, but I didn’t know where to go. I knew nothing about the company—or construction, for that matter. So that weekend I grabbed a map and drove to the office. I pulled into the parking lot, circled the building once, and left. When I arrived Monday morning to meet Bill, he looked at me and asked, “Did you drive through here over the weekend?” He had been there, of course, in his office. “Yes,” I said. “I didn’t know where I was going, and I wanted to make sure I was here on time.”
I think that impressed him (along with the fact that I showed up with a pencil and paper). Three decades later, I’m still here—and there’s a reason for that: I’m proud of the values the Bouten family has instilled in us. And I’m proud of the way those values have not only contributed to what we’ve built and achieved as a company, but also how they continue to shape our culture—and how they’ve helped me to grow both personally and professionally.
