A Short Story about Microwave Bypass & the Start of Fixed Wireless Access

It was 1985, and though I was only 24, I felt the world passing me by. Tech startups seemed to spring up everywhere and I wanted nothing more than to start my own business and join the ranks of young entrepreneurs, blazing their own trails. How to do it was the question, having no savings, business or engineering experience. 

 

I was at MCI Communications, selling leased lines to corporate accounts, consistently topping the charts, never actually talking about the service I was selling. The job was great, but the company kept restructuring and rumors were making me anxious. If only I had a good business idea...

 

And then it came, when a guest speaker gave a talk about point-to-point microwave. It had just emerged as a private enterprise solution, more friendly and compact, and it could save businesses tens of thousands a year versus lower quality T1 lines. The fact that it was a higher ticket sale also appealed to me. There had to be more money in that. 

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I thought of some of my larger accounts, like Texas Instruments, Dunkin' Donuts and Cumberland Farms. They all had remote offices in close proximity and by their phone bills, they couldn't have been better prospects for microwave. Not to mention, no one liked AT&T then, because of their stranglehold on the market.

 

My head was exploding. ​Days later, I made a beeline across Boston Common and registered the name "Microwave Bypass Systems, Inc." with the department of corporations. 

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Weeks later, I was drinking with a M/A COM salesperson, Erik Stromstead, at the 99 Restaurant across the road from his office. M/A COM was the leading microwave radio manufacturer at the time. Erik was an old Yankee, a Harvard grad and gentleman farmer with hundreds of acres, close to retirement. He enjoyed his wine as we talked about tapping my prospects.

 

Though I still couldn't buy liquor without an ID, Erik suggested that I become a reseller and we talked about how M/A COM might support my efforts. After a few meetings, I floated the proposition that they should advance me a modest weekly draw, $700, to help me fund a "sales office" and that I'd pay them back against my first orders. All it would take it one, I reasoned. To my surprise, Erik didn't balk and he suggested that I draft a proposal for his boss, Frank. Frank vetted me and I set up a sales call, bringing Erik into one of my accounts. Weeks later, Frank had me pitch my proposal to his boss, Fred, and the deal was done. 

 

And so starting a business was as simple as that. The new enterprise consisted of me, a good logo, a prestigious corporate mailing address (rented mail box) , a competent answering service and a leased IBM typewriter.

I couldn't have been more excited, but my enthusiasm waned as my former MCI customers weren't buying. It didn't make sense. Cost savings were insane. I thought that CFO's were obligated to buy if you showed them a one-year payback. Yet what I learned chilled me to the bone. Telecom managers were wholly dependent on AT&T and were deathly afraid of upsetting them. 

 

Still, someone might go for it, I reasoned. I sent out a 1,500 piece mailer, a few hundred a week, and the response seemed encouraging. Yet, more months passed and I still hadn't come close to making a single sale. By month six, M/A COM was ready to cut me off. 

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Christmas was around the corner and I sat at my kitchen table, dejected. I pulled out my resume and started editing. Days went by, cold and alone in my apartment while my roommates were working actual jobs. It got dark by 4:30 p.m., only fueling my gloom. At last, I resolved that after the New Year, I'd get a job or go crawling back to MCI. 

 

It was then that the phone rang.

 

It was my answering service. There was a customer inquiry, Rick somebody, from Symbols or whatever in Cambridge (the next town over). I wasn't in the mood. Microwave sales cycles were too long and I was at the end of my rope. I ignored the message. 

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The answering service called again the next day. It was Rick again from Symbolics and he's getting irritated that no one's getting back to him. (He's irritated? At least he's got a job!) Again, I ignored the call.

 

Another day passed and with it, another message from Rick. This time he says that if he doesn't see someone from Microwave Bypass by the end of the day, he's tearing up our check. (WHAT CHECK?!) 

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Finally, I respond to Rick's call and he's not happy. He said he received one of our flyers and saw the site survey quote in there ($3,200) and that he'd already cut a check for it, because he needs a "bunch" of microwave connections to a remote campus and its got to happen ASAP. That afternoon I was in his office. Boy Scout and Christmas stuff everywhere. He's racing around and the whole time I'm thinking about that check, doubting its existence.

 

We talk about his application. T1s for voice, broadcast quality video for teleconferencing and something about LAN channels. First time I ever heard the term "LAN". Rick thinks he's going to need at least 6-links. His remote campus is 13-miles away and he says there's a tower we might use as a repeater. That's what I needed to scope out.

 

He tells me to follow him to the reception desk and hands me an envelope. I thank him and tell him I'll get right to work, figuring worse case, I can't put his job together, but it's December 11, Christmas is around the corner and I just bagged $3,200. 

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That was just the start and there was no keeping up with Rick, who also had the first cell phone I ever saw. While I was looking at topographic maps, he was talking with M/A COM engineers. I was doing the same, talking to Frank Miani, an RF tech who put the system configuration together for me, giving me pricing for every component, cable and connector; even licensing and installation. Meanwhile, I still hadn't approached the one and only repeater prospect, a cable TV operator, and I sweat bullets about whether they'd let us on their tower. 

 

A week had passed since Rick handed me his check and then I get another call from the answering service. Again, Rick says he's got a check for us. He can drop it in the mail or I can come pick it up. I don't know what on earth he's talking about, but I call him right back and he tells me that he has to spend some year end money and so he added up the microwave components that he thought he needed and he remembered that our terms included a 1/3 deposit. He said he can't be there, but he's leaving a check and P.O. at the reception desk. 

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I raced to Symbolics, not knowing what I'd find. I saw the receptionist and she handed me an envelope. I thanked her and opened it as I walked back to my car. I went right for the check and it was $27,500! That was just the deposit and I had no clue how Rick came up with it or whether I'd even find line of sight, but I was determined to figure it out and not lose that money. And so I got into my car, drove out of the lot and then at a safe distance, opened my window, and in the chill of winter screamed my head off across the entire span of the Longfellow Bridge. 

 

There were more surprises about the Symbolics job. 

 

First, Symbolics was the hottest AI firm at the time and they registered the world's first internet URL. They had just gone public and had huge communications needs, ultimately involving two-hops and twelve radios. The total exceeded $250,000. The other surprise is that their configuration included a proprietary Token Ring interface. It was the first wireless LAN application and it was notable enough that DataPro Research covered it in this report. 

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