Highly Skilled And Out Of Work

Caroline Dixon of Southeast Washington had a $65,000-a-year job at a foundation in the District. She quit in April and has been unable to find steady work since. "I need a safety net under my safety net," she says. (By Dayna Smith For The Washington Post)

Dixon said she and her friends and family grow more anxious the longer she is out of work. For nearly all of her life, having a job was a given: Her late father had worked 35 years for Washington Gas; her mother retired from her last job after more than 15 years. After graduating from college in 1989, Dixon worked for 16 years at the American Forest Foundation before moving to the Spina Bifida Association in the District.

These days, her mother, who lives in Capitol Heights, often sends Dixon encouraging notes with Safeway gift cards tucked inside. "I'm sure she's concerned," Dixon said. "She's always asking, 'So, how's the job hunt going?' I tell her, 'If I had a job, you'd be one of the first people I'd tell.' "

Dixon has managed to stay afloat by occasionally working as a substitute teacher at the Washington Middle School for Girls, using a small profit she earns from a rental property and tapping into her savings. She said she considers herself lucky to get free health insurance through a D.C. program that provides coverage for the unemployed.

Still, things are getting tight for Dixon, who is single and has no children. "I need a safety net under my safety net," she said.

Officials who work with the jobless said they are seeing more people like Dixon-- educated, with stable work histories -- having a hard time finding a job.

"It seems like for the skilled worker who has experience and credentials, finding a job that matches their skill and experience is like reaching for the brass ring on the carousel," said Howard H. Marshall, manager of the Baltimore County Workforce Development Center in Hunt Valley. "A lot of people are grabbing for it, and only few will get it."

Jan W. Saurbaugh, 57, a former computer specialist who lives in Timonium, Md., started working at 14, when he got a paper route. By 19, he had joined the Marines. For most of his life, he has worked steadily, shifting with life's circumstances and the economic currents.

After leaving the military, he trained and worked as a welder. When neck injuries from an auto accident left him unable to do that, he went to community college to learn computer-assisted drafting, which led to seven years of work with the Coast Guard in Baltimore. Saurbaugh, who exudes an old-school formality with his ramrod straight posture, tightly knotted necktie and neatly pressed corduroys, said he made the mistake of his career when he left his drafting job for a computer-related Coast Guard job in Washington. The position was officially designated as temporary but offered an immediate $12,000-a-year increase over his $38,000 salary and the promise of more raises.

"One guy told me, 'I've been on temporary status with the federal government 13 years, and I've always had a job,' " Saurbaugh said, which put his misgivings to rest. But then Saurbaugh faced what he called a "bad turn of events."

Scrambling to complete his bachelor's degree, Saurbaugh found himself getting little sleep and struggling with the commute to Washington. He developed a sleep disorder that caused him to miss significant time at work. Nine months after taking the job, he resigned under pressure. A sheaf of commendations and awards he had accumulated with the Coast Guard could not save his job.

"I was devastated that I didn't have work," Saurbaugh said. "But I figured I was just a couple of months away from my degree. I figured once I had it, somebody would pick me up."

That was more than two years ago. In between, he has worked only three months -- at a car dealership where a childhood friend is a manager. "I sold eight cars a month for three months. That wasn't cutting it. I am just not a car salesman," he said.

Saurbaugh, whose wife is partially disabled, has sold his camper and drained his retirement accounts and is now dependent on family for survival. His elderly in-laws took a home-equity loan to pay the mortgage on his three-bedroom Cape Cod, and his brother-in-law pays for the couple's health insurance. "I thought by this time in my life, I'd be the one peeling off a few bills for someone," he said. "I hate asking people for money."

He said that if he doesn't find work soon, he will have to sell his house. Saurbaugh said he has looked for jobs everywhere, even applying at electronics stores and bulk-office-supply businesses. But, so far, nothing.

"I keep telling my wife: 'Things are going to work out. They'll work out," he said, shaking his head. "But they haven't."