Windows of opportunity: an alcoholic-turned-window-cleaner gives new meaning to the phrase "clean and sober."

Entrepreneur, Sept, 1998 by Elaine W. Teague

Window Man, the residential window-cleaning business Light started in 1989, is expected to ring up $250,000 in sales this year, and its reputation for excellence has been lauded by local media. Window Man's client list of 2,000 crisscrosses California's Silicon Valley, leaving sparkling panes on the multimillion-dollar estates of some of the high-tech capital's richest and most famous residents.

When you talk to Light, 51, his enthusiasm threatens to overflow with every syllable. This is a man who definitely ate his Wheaties this morning. You sense that accounts of his accomplishments are not exaggerated. Yet how he revived the flagging business that flourishes today is nothing short of miraculous.

The place he occupies these days is a comfortable one, but it's not Light's first rendezvous with financial success. His circuitous route to the top began in the Air Force, where he served in Southeast Asia and gained a background in airborne electronics.

Upon leaving the military in 1970, he earned a degree in electronics and, for the next decade, worked around the world as a technical and logistical services advisor for an engineering contractor to NASA's Ames Research Center.

Surrounded by opportunities in the burgeoning technology industry of the early 1980s, Light made an easy transition from electronics engineering to electronics sales. Affable and people-oriented, Light was soon pulling in a six-figure income.

"When you're hot, you're hot," says Light of those glory days. But his enjoyment of the sales game was short-lived. "I could go out and book a million-dollar order, [and the response was] 'what are you going to do next?'" he says. "I was making a lot of money, but after a while there was no satisfaction."

Zooming down the management fast lane as a regional and then national sales manager, a vicious cycle began. Increasing disenchantment with his career led to increased attention to his inner party animal; Light turned up his drinking a notch and added cocaine to the mix.

His judgment was becoming cloudier, and his career decisions showed it. In 1988, Light's sales career began a downward spiral, as he bounced from company to company. "On a typical day," Light recalls, "I'd go to lunch, drink brandy and a couple glasses of wine, come back, sit in the office comatose, and head home at 3:30 - and then stop off and have drinks on the way home."

TRADING PLACES

Summoning all his energy to make the break into another field, Light put the word out that he was using his sales experience to create a food distributorship, and W.J. Light Foods was born.

The fledgling enterprise brought new challenges. As Light's substance abuse intensified, he began relying on credit cards to finance everything from cars and mortgage payments to other credit cards, and the company's runaway debt reached $80,000. Light's foray into the food business lasted less than a year; in October 1989, he let his staff go and declared bankruptcy.

Down and out with nowhere to go but up, Light took a friend's advice and began cleaning windows to make some fast cash. He made a minimal investment in equipment and began posting fliers for his service. Receiving four calls that first day, he was off on another adventure.

Light started attending 12-step recovery meetings in 1989 but could never stay sober for more than 30 days. He knew he needed an inhouse recovery program, but he couldn't find one that would take him. "People kept [turning me down] because I had no medical insurance," says Light. "I realize now that because I am a veteran, I could have gone to a VA hospital."

Two years into the window-cleaning business, Light lost hope. "I finally just said, 'I give up. Alcohol, you win. I don't care.' [For the next six months,] it was almost like I had a death wish. I had to drink to stabilize the shakes. As the day wore on, I would keep drinking 'til I'd black out."

THE FAT LADY SINGS - ALMOST

As with many a cautionary tale, Light's final date with destiny is unforgettable. Rock bottom came on December 5, 1991, the day he nearly died. After one of his routine afternoon bar stops, during which he drank a fifth of vodka, Light secured 3 1/2 grams of cocaine and then drove home, stopping on the way to pick up a bottle of rum. He drank the entire bottle, swallowed all the cocaine, and blacked out.

Amazingly, Light woke up the next day. But the picture wasn't a pretty one. He awoke in the fetal position with a pillow stuffed in his mouth to keep his teeth from breaking as they chattered and his body shook. His condition improved over the next few days, and, humbler but wiser, he made a beeline for a 12-step meeting. "[This time,] I finally sat down and listened," he says.

With Light on the mend - permanently, this time - could Window Man recover as well? "Because of the drinking, only a few customers were still around," he says. "Going out [to a job] with my breath smelling of alcohol hadn't enhanced my customer base."

He knew that on his good days, his window-cleaning methods had been meticulous, something he took pride in. With newfound sobriety and an increasingly clear outlook on life, Light was ready to try again.