A Closer Look: Eileen Wixted

Principal, Wixted & Co.

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Public relations professional Eileen Wixted is marking her 25th anniversary of helping to craft messaging for nuclear plants, agricultural organizations and hospitals. 

Sometimes she gets the call for help after a crisis. Increasingly, she’s also asked to help companies calmly plan how to handle, say, the top six issues or events that could draw media attention or public criticism.

She runs Wixted & Co., the latest incarnation of a second career that began when she ended her run as an anchor and reporter at WHO-TV Channel 13 and set up a public relations shop with former colleague Alison Gregory Pope. 

The media landscape has changed sharply in the past several decades. Today, continuous reporting via social media and website reports present challenges that weren’t there when the daily newspaper and twice-a-night TV reports were the main alternatives to radio. 

Public relations has changed, too, with much more emphasis on good management practices and getting ahead of the story, and far less room for a “no comment” and a run for the hills when a reporter calls, Wixted said.

Wixted likes to tell her often nervous and fearful clients that transparency is a far better tactic in media relations than attempting to avoid a controversy through vague statements. 

She’s a colorful, thoughtful professional who, to her benefit, hasn’t forgotten what it was like to be a reporter. Her personality, she says, derives from her Brooklyn, N.Y., upbringing. She jokes that as she trained to be a journalist, she learned the importance of being able to drop the f-bomb as a noun, verb or adjective. 

We sat down with one of Des Moines’ longtime media figures to talk about how her career, and the media, have evolved. 

I don’t see any anniversary cake here in your West Des Moines office, but I do see quite a few colleagues. How many employees do you have now?
Twelve.

Who do you represent? 
We represent 500 hospitals, two-thirds of the nation’s nuclear plants, and companies in finance, insurance and agribusiness. They are under government regulations and public scrutiny.

What kinds of issues do they have?
If tritium is high in a water supply near a nuclear plant, that is a problem. If a medical helicopter is involved in a fatal crash, that is a problem. When bad things happen, people pay attention. We talk about messaging. But I’m also there to help them with best management practices and to develop a disaster plan before the trouble arrives.

It seems like a big part of your job is convincing people who don’t want to share information with the public that it’s in their best interests to do so. How do you do that?
I ask clients, ‘Would you want to eat a cold, slimy toad?’ Either you allow me to cook that and you eat a leg, or you are going to be force-fed that cold, ugly, distasteful thing. They say, ‘What are the odds (of someone finding out about bad news)?’ I say, ‘I don’t know, but if you are pre-emptive and take the ‘gotcha’ card out of the hand and get out of defense, you are better off.

Do you usually win the debate? 
It takes a while to persuade them. You have to be a realist. Our clients really appreciate that I am direct. I care deeply about their success both professionally and personally. Twenty-five years ago, people were so afraid of the media. People had to do the 6 and 10 news. Now, we are a nation of hunters and gatherers of information. It’s not just about communicating to the media. Now we have websites, and shareholders, and employees with their own blogs and Twitter accounts. You used to have a press conference. Now, we get the statement on the website. People talk about our firm as a media training and crisis firm. My goal is to be two or three steps ahead of the crisis with a strategy. Many industries have four to six issues that are going to bubble up that are going to bring a certain amount of risk. 

Can you give some examples?
We work with health care providers on how to deliver the message that workers shouldn’t have to pay dues to work. Or maybe the hospital CEO makes $3.5 million and people want to know how a nonprofit employee can make that much, and we help defend it.  The Form 990s will eventually tell people what the CEO makes, but why not put the statement of defense on the hospital website, with the CEO’s mug shot and the salary? I tell them to be transparent. If you have to bank on the public trust, you need to be transparent.

Do you practice internationally? 
I used to. I was flying all over. But I wanted to see my children. 

Why do you focus on cases across the country?
You aren’t a prophet in your own land. I decided to focus on key categories of businesses, ones that are accountable to the public, regulated and recession-proof.

Do you have any professional habits? 
I tend to draw a lot. (Walks to write pad. Draws.)

Your transition from Channel 13 to running a public relations company with your onetime TV colleague, Alison Gregory Pope, was part of a saga that made the news. What happened?
I got married. Part of my wedding was on TV. I got a new news director. He was my fourth news director in a year and half. I came back from my honeymoon, and I covered a story that the Des Moines Register then covered. Back then, that was the ultimate compliment. The news director called me into his office, and I assumed he would say, ‘Great job.’ Instead, he said, ‘We’re done.’ I was let go.

How did you handle that?
I was a street fighter. I freelanced for KIOA radio, Meredith and CMF&Z. A year and a day later, I was rehired. The news director who fired me was fired himself. I went back to Channel 13 for two years.

Did that episode change you?
I realized that not everyone watches me. My world was very small and I was self-absorbed, as much of the media world is. I was so much better when I went back. After two years, I realized there was another world out there. That world valued my insights. Getting fired really teaches you the ability to be resilient.

You ended up working for years with Alison, but you parted ways. What happened?
We decided (in 2005) that our goals and objectives didn’t mesh. We decided we’d go another way.

What’s a typical work week now? 
Sixty to 65 hours.

Your son, Carter, just graduated from Dowling Catholic High School. You were highly involved in all the school activities with your four children. Does this transition leave you misty, apprehensive, lost?
People said, ‘You are going to be teary-eyed.’ I am really happy. It’s all about the next chapter and living fully.

How will you do that?
I am going to try to enjoy the stillness. We tend to live in the chaotic environment where we just check off the box. I might volunteer for the heart association. I am going to have time, and it’s going to be something besides the bleachers (at Dowling). I enjoy tennis, and I might get back into it. While I was at Channel 13, I took ballet lessons. I’m sure as s–t not going to get back into ballet. (Laughs.) My husband likes to travel for vacation, but I want to stay home. I travel for work. I want to write a book related to executive and crisis communications, take my children to Europe, and work with women in prison.

 

School days by the numbers 

Wixted’s youngest son graduated from Dowling Catholic High School in West Des Moines this year, ending her children’s school years. For his graduation, Wixted compiled this look at the family’s school years:
•  52 years of Catholic school tuition.
•  272 pairs of khaki pants.
•  24 choir concerts.
•  728 signed and addressed valentines.
•  9 instances of Justice Under God. (“That’s what the Catholics call detention.”)
•  46 wrestling meets.
•  76 football games on cheerleader duty.
•  22 football games played.
•  40 swim meets.
•  8 years of cheerleader tryouts.
•  32 all-day wrestling meets.