William “Bill” James is a distinguished figure in the realm of public service, renowned for his remarkable ascent from a GS-1 clerk to a senior executive leader in the federal government. His memoir, The Accidental Executive, chronicles this extraordinary journey, offering a compelling narrative of dedication, innovation, and leadership.
Throughout his illustrious career, Bill has been instrumental in transforming IT infrastructures, advancing digital mapping technologies, and enhancing healthcare services for veterans. His strategic contributions were pivotal during Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm, showcasing his commitment to national service and innovation.
Bill’s exceptional contributions have been recognized with numerous awards, including the esteemed Fed100 award, underscoring his impact and leadership in public service. His memoir not only shares his professional achievements but also serves as a beacon of inspiration for those aspiring to make a difference through civil service.
Beyond his professional endeavors, Bill is passionate about technology, genealogy, and vintage car restoration. He cherishes family time in Vienna, Virginia, where he continues to advocate for the values of public service and community engagement.
When I wrote “The Accidental Executive”, my goal was to share a story about discovering purpose and making an impact through public service. While memoirs about civil service may speak to a niche audience, this audience holds deep significance for me. Seeing the book...
“The year was 1974, and the world outside the windows was abuzz with change and upheaval in the Cold War, post–Vietnam War era. The sign above the door read DEFENSE COMMUNICATIONS AGENCY. A white sign with black lettering next to the door read Defense Commercial Communications Office, or DECCO. Crossing the threshold of this drab building, I stepped out of the steam of the Southern Illinois summer and into the soup of US government civil service, where mission met bureaucracy. Walking through the door and down the hall, plodding across the waxed and worn linoleum tile floor, I noticed a faint squeaking noise coming from my recently shined shoes. When I finally found the correct office number, I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and stepped into this strange new world, ready to face the challenges that lay ahead. The squeaking sound of my shoes stopped, replaced by a whisper of uncertainty.”
My father often joked that every inanimate object was home to mischievous gremlins, whose sole mission was to annoy us in any way possible. If an engine bolt fell out of my hands and landed in a clearly visible but very hot and inaccessible location, it was those darn little tricksters at work. When a tool broke, it was just the gremlins having fun. By blaming these annoyances on our invisible foes, he taught me to see setbacks as chances for perspective, not frustration. My father also taught me that these gremlins can always be defeated with patience and perseverance. Just keep trying, and sooner or later, they’ll give up.