by Susan Karlin - April 08, 1999
Twenty years ago, Gerald Chamales was homeless and unemployable, stumbling
around Los Angeles' Venice Beach in a drug- and alcohol-induced fog.
Today, at 47, he's the president and CEO of Omni Computer Products, a
$30 million computer parts enterprise in Carson, Calif., just outside Los
Angeles.
That he crawled out of hell is a testament to his sheer will
power and entrepreneurial vision. But even more remarkable is how he uses his
business to pull others out of despair. A third of his 304 employees are former
homeless people, felons and drug addicts--most of whom credit their second
chance at life to Chamales. Along the way, the company has grown an average of
20 percent a year and expects to hit $30 million in net sales in 1999, proving
that good will and fiscal success are not mutually exclusive.
Under its
Rhinotek label, Omni manufactures new and recycled computer consumables such as
laser and ink-jet printer cartridges, as well as supplies like diskettes and
paper. Rhinotek's clients include Disney, Delta Airlines, Citicorp, MCI WorldCom
and the White House. The Rhinotek name was chosen because the rhino connotes
resilience and toughness. Coincidentally, the label fits the company's pet
charity--saving African wildlife. Omni donates about $25,000 a year to a Kenyan
preserve.
In addition to its two Carson factories, Omni will soon open
another telemarketing branch in nearby Rancho Dominguez. It also will sell
products on its Web site (www.rhinotek.com), as well as through grocery and
office supply stores like Ralph's Supermarkets and Staples. Chamales, who owns
the entire company, will be weighing several growth options over the next two
years--everything from buying smaller companies, merging with another company or
going public to raise funds to buy several competitors and strengthen his share
of the potential $25 billion worldwide market. If Chamales decides to take Omni
public, he will be giving stock options to employees.
Chamales was born
with a creative and entrepreneurial mind (his father wrote a novel, Never So
Few, that was made into a movie starring Frank Sinatra). But his parents split
when he was 2, and Chamales spent his early childhood in a foster home. He began
drinking and taking drugs as a teenager, and by his mid-20s had drifted through
several colleges, survived six months in a psychiatric hospital and lived in the
streets of Santa Monica and Venice, Calif. Then one day, his mind just snapped.
"I always felt guilty for wasting my life," he says. He plunged into a
diet of substance abuse programs, self-help books and self-imposed behavioral
modification. He landed a job selling computer printer ribbons in the late '70s,
and in 1980 he set up his own shop in a ramshackle walk-up apartment in Venice.
My first customers were stunned," he says, laughing. "They said, 'We must have
the wrong address.' I started out knowing nothing about business. I made so many
mistakes, it was a joke. But I would answer, 'It's not where you start, but
where you finish.' "
Chamales believes his success has more to do with
his company philosophy of "high-quality products, fair pricing and fanatical
customer service" than it does with timing. "We got in at the beginning and rode
the wave. But it's not an easy industry to break into--even back then. We were
still required to work to stay in the game and change products as the
marketplace dictated," Chamales says. "The company I started out with, Pacific
Computer Products, is no longer in business because [it] forgot core values."
Because of his background, Chamales looks for future employees through
referrals from recovery programs, halfway houses, veterans' hospitals and the
criminal justice system. Although he's had death and bomb threats from
disgruntled ex-employees, he believes the system he uses to filter potential
employees doesn't create a higher-risk work pool than usual. Applicants are put
through interviews, psychological testing and intensive training with a mentor
who teaches everything from job skills to business dress and etiquette.
There's also a greater acceptance of maverick personalities at Omni than
corporate America might allow. Chamales likes to manage by wandering around
(what he calls his "MBWA" strategy), sizing up situations and encouraging
people. He maintains an open-door policy so lower-level employees can speak with
him directly.
"We try to recognize the intrinsic value of every
employee," he says. "Being on the street teaches you survival techniques and
entrepreneurial skills--how to size up situations and jockey for position. A guy
who's had to go out and procure cocaine can figure out how to call a customer
and doesn't easily take no for an answer. Once [people have] made a decision to
get sober, they work harder, as if to make up for the five or 10 years that they
lost.