The University Employees Representative Association is a curiously amorphous group of janitors, maids, bakers, printers, and book-binders united only by the common goal of getting a square deal from the University. The glue that holds this diverse group together has always been one strong man. For twelve years, this man was Daniel G. Mulvihill, the president. But the men who removed him last April preferred to step into the background, elect weak officers, and run the union from off-stage.

The incubation period is now over for one of these men. Last week, Francis J. McNamara was elected president of the union by an overwhelming majority. The janitor of Weld Hall, McNamara is calm, cautious, close-mouthed. He is a smart man and a strong man. But his strength seems a different kind than that of Mulvihill.

Mulvihill was an enigma. During his long term as president be had absolute power. Many in the H.U.E.R.A. felt his methods were high-handed and that he lacked sincere interest in the union. Last fall, a group breaded by McNamara and Malinckrodt watchman Kenneth Slocum started to investigate the financial records, which Mulvihill always kept to himself. They made no statements or accusations, merely decided that Mulvihill had to go.

The group didn't ask Mulvihill to resign, but forced the union's board of directors to call an election for the presidency. Instead of running for the job themselves, they put up Burr Hall janitor Elwyn Wyman for the top position and Mrs. Helen Maynard, a maid in Eliot House, for the vice-presidency. Mulvihill suddenly withdrew from the race, and Wyman was elected. But the pace proved too tough, and Wyman resigned after only a month in office. No one knew exactly why.

Ordinarily, when a vice-president moves up, he must name one of the board members to fill his old position. But Slocum and McNamara told Mrs. Maynard not to fill the vacancy with anyone so an election could be held if she resigned. McNamara was secretary of the union at the time, and quietly dictated to the president the policy that beat off an attempt to incorporate the H.U.E.R.A. into the A.F.L. Although new himself to organized labor, he had the advice of two old pros. Slocum has been in union work since 1919, and Robert Green, another leader in the anti-Mulvihill faction, has had almost as much experience. Under this tutelage, McNamara quickly picked up the tricks of the trade.

Early in October, Mrs. Maynard resigned, the second president to go in less than six months, claiming she had been pressured out of the job by anonymous phone calls which were ruining her health. When McNamara was elected president last week, he had little to say about the past. "Just tell them that I have no intention of quitting," he said. "I'll sweat out whatever is thrown at me."

Few people will ever make a fool of McNamara. H.U.E.R.A. members say that in spite of his lack of experience, he is one of the shrewdest labor men around. He has never been known to show anger when dealing with the University, yet he usually gets what he wants. He will back anyone's grievance to the limit, providing the employee with the complaint will follow him into the offices of the administration.

Union men think that McNamara will effectively boost the H.U.E.R.A. after the disastrous Mulvihill rule, in which many subsidiary groups, such as the police and the maintenance men, split off and formed separate unions. It is highly possible that they will come back into the H.U.E.R.A. now that McNamara is president. The quiet man hesitates to make predictions about the future, but his optimism is supported by the record vote that backed him. In McNamara, the employees feel they have someone whom they can trust. And he can't be fooled by anyone.