A Chance To Get Into The Room

Days later, the two men joked that whenever they fight, they end up getting a contract. "We have to fight more often," Ford said.

Ford and his No. 2, Rogers, often handle confrontations differently. Rogers, 40, is more patient, more pragmatic than Ford. When he deals with employees, he gives them specific, detailed instructions so there is no confusion. More introverted than Ford, Rogers was teased for being a bookworm while growing up in New York. He is happy to let Ford take center stage.

Ford was meeting recently with one of his advisers, a George C. Scott look-alike named Joseph Libby, when Rogers walked in. Libby took one look at Rogers's black suit and joked that it matched his dark skin. Rogers just laughed. "You'll never change," he told Libby, who runs a Fairfax insurance firm. Ford dropped his head, clearly irritated. As much as he treasures Libby's counsel, his gruff jokes are difficult to accept.

Embracing diversity can be as tricky at black-owned companies as anywhere else. Ford and Rogers are vocal Christians in a workplace that includes Jews and Muslims. Ford says he tries to ensure that all employees' faiths are respected. During Ramadan, he joined his Muslim workers in a sunrise-to-sunset fast. More recently, Ford opened a senior staff meeting with a prayer, asking God to "give us the guidance and wisdom to make the right decisions," which was followed by Rogers's, "thanking you, Lord, for the opportunity to worship."

"One of the perks of owning your own business is you don't have to deny who you are," said Ford. Though some people see spirituality as a sign of weakness, he says, he believes the opposite.

"We will be humble before God but bold before man."

* * *

Source of the Drive

Ford is driving his 2005 Porsche Carrera toward Saratoga and Montana avenues in Northeast. Growing up, he spent many days in this neighborhood hanging out with friends. It's 2 p.m., and Ford notices a dozen black men his age and younger standing in front of an apartment building. Some are holding wads of cash, others are shooting dice. Cruising by, Ford feels uneasy. He jokes that in his designer suit, he is dressed like "a victim," an attractive robbery target.

His family had a house near Hechinger Mall when he was a child. After school, Ford and his sister spent evenings at the J&K Upholstery shop their parents owned on H Street NE. John and Katherine Ford put their children through Catholic schools by exchanging tuition for upholstering chairs and sofas. Ford grew up hearing Jim Crow stories from his parents, who migrated to Washington from the segregated rural areas of North Carolina and South Carolina in the 1950s. Katherine Ford taught her children that the best way to overcome racism was through hard work and professionalism. "I wanted them to be the best at what they do," she said. "No matter what it was, be the best. No one can stop you if you're the best at what you do."

But trying to be the best can exact a toll. Now four months into his second marriage, Ford admits that his first marriage fell victim to the 18 to 20 hours a day he routinely put in starting Enlightened. Time management still isn't easy. His first son, 8-year-old Antwanye Eric II, was diagnosed with leukemia when he was 3. The disease is in remission, but watching young Antwanye endure years of chemotherapy and steroid treatments inspired Ford to give more to social causes. Every Enlightened employee is required to participate in at least two volunteer efforts a year. Through his wife, Tanya, Ford is stepfather to Jahleel, 10, who talks of opening his own dog-walking business.

Driving past his old haunts, Ford reflects on the economic progress that has rejuvenated some District neighborhoods while skipping others. Most of his childhood buddies are either dead or in prison, he says, victims of the 1980s crack epidemic. Though his heart tells him he can still hang out here because he is a local homeboy, his mind whispers that he no longer belongs here.

"It's just something I think about at times," he says.

* * *

Resolution

Ford wasted no time dealing with the headache that caused him to hurl his water bottle across the room. If the District was dissatisfied with Enlightened's work on the $400,000 D.C. inventory project, so was Ford.

He discovered that most of his employees were having the same problem: They would show up to count copying machines or fire trucks and be told that the work had already been done. Unknown to Enlightened's employees, another contractor had a similar assignment. The employees never reported this to their supervisors, and the supervisors never asked.

Immediately, Ford decided that more aggressive supervision was needed and moved one of his senior managers, Colleen Moses, off the project. He shifted two other managers from another assignment to take over. Moses was distraught. She had been in charge of the inventory project for nearly two years; Ford's quick decision stunned her. She sat alone in the conference room, tears streaming down her face. "I just hate that I disappointed him," she said. "I just wish I had the opportunity to fix it."

But her opportunity had passed. "The customer wanted it fixed now," Ford said. "Period."

Within days, Daniels, the D.C. official who hired Enlightened for the inventory project, called to say that everything was back on track. He had heard no further complaints. In appreciation, Ford gave his project workers $25 Chipotle restaurant gift cards.

Soon afterward, Ford received even better news: Enlightened was among four companies chosen for that multimillion-dollar contract updating the computer system used by the Court Services and Offender Supervision Agency. A guaranteed four-year stream of income. Ford gathered everyone for cake to celebrate.

Finally, Ford thought, he was in the room. The relentless hours and tough choices had paid off -- for now. Enlightened could indeed compete with the big boys. Not that Ford would stop worrying about the company's image -- or his own. Worrying, he says, keeps him hungry.

"We have to fight for every job we get," Ford says. "Once you start sitting back, relaxing, you lose the edge."

Staff researchers Meg Smith and Rena Kirsch contributed to this report.