About Us

For a small business to survive two decades, someone must be doing something right. Phyllis Farenga, President of Pest-Techs in Marana, has a 5-point formula for success; always be enthusiastic about the venture, get a good education in your chosen field, present credentials for customer trust, be willing to work doubly hard as your employees, and serve the community as an advocate. Phyllis, at Pest-Techs, established all five requirements from the beginning. She studied under eminent experts on pests and pest eradication at the State University of New York and diligently worked to receive her "very rare" Class A license. She's fearless and is not concerned about applying toxic insecticides, "The new chemicals we use today are not at all like those used a few years ago. They are safe to handle and are much less harmful or offensive as in past year, and I'm very much at home in bug or rat infested crevices."

Phyllis knew before starting Pest-Techs in 1982 that it would consume a big slice of her life. However, she has found time to become active in community and national citizen advocacy issues such as founding and chartering the Picture Rocks Chamber of Commerce and being a White House delegate on issues such as small business relations, community development, and education. Depending on the nature of an infestation and the scope of work to be done, Pest-Techs will employ up to five well-trained technicians to serve the Marana-Picture Rocks Community, as far south as Prince Road. She and her techs don't drive around in vehicles with mouse ears, and she has a ready reply to anyone who asks about her reliable, but vintage truck, " Buy a new truck? Not a chance! You're buying me, not what I arrive in." It's a commitment to serving her clients better by maintaining reasonable rates.

For more information, call Phyllis Farenga at Pest-Techs, (520) 682-3399.

Free At Last: By Diane F. Stumpf

A One Woman Exterminating Company Embodies the Spirit of Small Business in Arizona

Farenga is so serious about small business that she has even represented Arizona at a White House conference on the issue. "Running a small business means economic freedom," she explains. "That choice is the only thing that separates me from the rest of the world."

Farenga pulls out the directions to her next stop. "Get out on the pavement and head west. Go past the feed store. Take a right-hand turn. When you leave the pavement, you will pass Carl Stevenson's place. Go past the second feed lot. You'll be looking west at Picacho Peak. Go a half mile. You will see a white pipe fence. Turn into the chain link fence."

Farenga's job takes her to some remote locales, and the bumpy road to Phil Hogue's house smells of cows and runs smack into the middle of nowhere. "This is a one-time job," says Farenga, her voice shaking as her truck jostles along. "The kids have been complaining of spider bites in their beds."

Walking up to the gate of the Hogue household, Farenga is greeted by two big, barking dogs. Unable to calm the animals, she wields a shoe as she runs the gauntlet to the house. Suddenly Hogue pulls up in his truck. Farenga apologizes for the shoe, saying, "The dogs didn't look friendly."

After a quick tour of the inside and outside, Farenga goes to work. She unwinds the large orange hose on the back of her truck and pulls it all the way around the house. After soaking the yard, she moves inside. She sprays along the baseboards and the ceilings and in some of the closets of each room.

She's been here about 30 minutes; the charge is $35. Handing Hogue his receipt, she asks how he came to call her. "Oh, I've just heard of you around here," he says.

Insects, Farenga's "pennies," have been her obsession since her childhood on Long Island, N. Y. There, in the family garage, she maintained her prize possession-a bug collection. 'They were my toys," says Farenga. "I never played with dolls."

At Farmingdale State University, Farenga took classes in medical entomology, economic pest control and fumigation. She graduated with a degree in pest control management in 1978. Like a lot of people, Farenga decided to come to Arizona to begin her career because she heard you could get started here with little more than a dream. Also, she remembered National Geographic calling Arizona termite heaven.

She became a Class A license holder in Arizona, entitling her to do general pest-control, termite, fumigation, weed, ornamental and turf 'work. Farenga is one of only 10 such license holders in Arizona today, and the only woman. With the certificate, Farenga could have started her own pest-control business. But she decided to go to work in the Tucson office of a national extermination company first.

Though Farenga rose to become a trouble-shooter and trainer, she was disillusioned. "I was told that a college education meant nothing at this company. I was not allowed to go on fumigations. And then someone in middle management told me that if I wanted to advance quickly in this company, I better get my tubes tied. I thought if this is corporate America, something's wrong."

When a company officer asked during her six-month review what she wanted, Farenga politely responded, "Your job." She was moved to the Tempe office immediately. Soon after she was fired. Farenga was 22.

"I told myself that I deserved better than this," she recalls. "I wanted to reach my full potential, and knew it wouldn't happen by working for someone else." So she decided to do what she came to Arizona for-start her own business.

In 1982, she approached the Small Business Administration for a loan. The SBA was willing to lend her $40,000, but Farenga only needed $10,000. The SBA's interest cooled, 50 Farenga decided to raise the money herself. She sold her truck, her stereo, her parachute and her motorcycle and moved in with a friend. "I was 50 driven. I had made up my mind that I was going to do this."

Farenga settled on Marana because it sits between the state's two metropolitan areas. "I knew I could fight off the competition until I got. stronger," she says. Her strategy worked. By the end of 1983, sales reached $60,000.

Starting up Pest- Techs basically involved buying chemicals and a truck. Farenga's first customers mainly were clients from her previous job, and the customer base grew by word of mouth (she's never spent more than $3,000 a year on advertising). Steady accounts now include Davis Monthan Air Force Base, the Marana School District and the University of Arizona Medical Center.

Overhead costs are minimal because Farenga runs the company out of her home in Marana. Her office is almost as dirty as her 1978 Datsun truck. The orange shag carpeting looks brown. The desks, file cabinets and shelves are old and rusted. It appears termites have fed on the cushions of some folding chairs.

Pest-Techs' part-time employees earn about $5.50 an hour, but no benefits. Customer records are kept on index cards. Day-to-day operations are scheduled on a master calendar in the office. Farenga disdains paperwork, and a woman in Tucson keeps her books. When Farenga is out on a job, she simply' turns on her answering machine.

Pest-Techs' sales have hovered around $70,000 for several years. Farenga aspires to annual revenues of $250,000 and believes she could generate that much business. But her main problem is finding good help.

In 1985, Farenga expanded into Casa Grande and sales jumped dramatically. But then she discovered that the employee" running the new office apparently was taking money from the company. "Here I was so happy to be expanding and employing another person, and then this," she recalls. Farenga closed the office within a year. "I found out the hard way that not everyone is ,like you. That not everyone likes to work. It opened my eyes."

Even now the two part-time employees at Pest-Techs aren't interested in fun-time work, despite her offers of stock in the company, higher pay and the possibility of medical benefits. Still, sales could reach $100,000 this year. In October, Pest- Techs landed its largest contract-to treat and maintain 800 homes for First Southwest Diversified Partners in Tucson.

Farenga hopes the contract leads to others, though she is a little worried about the problems expansion inevitably brings. Pest-Techs has had some tight cash flow, she admits, and the only solution Farenga knows is to drum up more business.

It's 11 a.m. and Farenga is heading out 1-10 to Tucson and her next job-an 80-unit apartment complex. The smell of the chemicals in the back of the truck is compounded by a lack of air-conditioning. Farenga is wearing old jeans and beat-up tennis shoes, but a crisp white shirt. That's important, she says-white projects a certain clinical image. "People think of us as blue-collar spray jockeys," says Farenga. "We're not. This is a very technical business."

Farenga has one rule when spraying apartment complexes. "If someone won't open up the door, then there's something wrong going on in there," she says. On past calls, she has come upon evidence of drugs and child abuse. At one home, she found a woman who had died of a heart attack.

One of the hardest lessons for entrepreneurs is that even though they own the business, they don't always have control over it. Like a lot of small business owners, Farenga found that out four years ago when her annual insurance premium jumped from $600 to $6,000. The increase ate up her meager profits, derailed some expansion plans and very nearly cost her the business.

The experience prompted Farenga a year later to become involved in a program that would elect 21 Arizonans to become White House Delegates for Small Business. Participants from around the country were to gather in Washington to prepare a national agenda of the top 60 issues facing small business.

Farenga didn't really set out to become a delegate. "I was just angry," she recalls. "All I wanted to do was talk about it." But the selection process involved some 300 candidates traveling the state for two months, addressing the issues of small business. She spoke her mind forcefully, and was appointed a delegate.

The White House conference was intended to improve the long odds against small businesses. Such issues as liability insurance, mandated employee benefits, international trade and a lack of entrepreneurial education topped the list of the delegates' concerns.

Small business owners think government is out of touch with their needs, Farenga says. Attempts to establish a permanent small business council in Washington have failed. "I am a producer. Just give-me a dime, and I will give you a dollar," says Farenga. "But I can't do it without a healthy environment."

Farenga has since found ways to help small business closer to home. In 1986, she was appointed to the Marana planning and zoning commission. In 1987, she started the Marana Chamber of Commerce and was appointed to the Governor's Board of Affirmative Action. Last year she became a charter member of Arizona Small Business United.

She was instrumental in stopping the Marana City Council from imposing a business license tax earlier this year. In a letter to the local newspaper, Farenga wrote: "I don't think that I have to tell the Marana citizens that when a small business is healthy, so are the townspeople. Only an entrepreneur can bring wealth into a community. There is some indication that a member of the Business License Commission wants to drive out micros and start-ups to establish a closed-shop attitude, driving out those who were not born millionaires. Burr Brown, S.W. Paints, Chamber Mayflower, Babbitt's and all the farmers today had healthy business environments to grow in.... Do we?"

On the wall of Farenga's office hangs a white sheet of paper. On it are scribbled what she calls the principles of her business: Be self-sufficient. Plan for the future. Be honest. Do your best.

Elsewhere you can find her nametags from various small business conferences, her collection of deceased insects (including tarantulas, sun spiders and scorpions) and pieces of wood that graphically show the damage a bark beetle or drywood termite can do.

Phyllis Farenga says that when she started out, her goal was to be a millionaire by age 30. At 31, she's making about $29,000 a year-enough to live comfortably in a three-bedroom home in Marana and keep a black Corvette in the garage. Her outlook has changed. "Small business," she says, "is the only way for people to have control over their lives."

Phyllis Farenga: Arizona Small Business Advocate
PCO Takes a Proactive Role

When her first employer, a national pest control company, tried to restrict her to a role as office worker instead of recognizing the expertise gained through her college education, Phyllis Farenga decided to strike out on her own as a PCO. Since then, the Marana, Ariz. businesswoman has done two very important, and mutually supportive, things: she has developed her pest control business, Pest-Techs, into a profitable venture, and she has taken an active role in small business advocacy.

"I wanted to reach my full potential, and I knew it wouldn't happen by working for someone else," she said after her short and unhappy stint at the national firm. "Small business is the only way for people to have control over their lives."

In fact, that's what she'd always intended. After a childhood spent playing with bugs instead of dolls, she .enrolled at the State University of New York at Farmingdale. There, she studied economic and medical entomology, fumigation and weed control in a "conceptual learning" program developed by industry consultant Dr. Austin Frishman.

Graduating with a degree in pest management in 1978, she moved to Arizona because of the state's reputation as a place with a favorable climate for small business, plus a National Geographic story calling it termite heaven. She attained a Class A license in Arizona, allowing her to do general pest control, termite work, fumigation, and weed, ornamental and turf work, the only woman in that classification.

After her fiasco with the national company, she decided to use this background fully, going with her original plan of self employment and selling her truck, stereo, parachute, and motorcycle to finance the venture. She set it hallWay between Phoenix and Tucson to protect the fledgling firm from encroachment by the big boys.

Risky business. Five years ago, though, she hit a crisis that almost cost her her company. Her annual insurance premium increased tenfold, taking her profits and ruining some expansion plans. From this she learned that, because of decisions made elsewhere, owners don't always have complete control of what happens to their business.

In response, she got involved. She was angry enough to "shoot from the hip," as she says, and to start talking about small business problems to various and sundry groups, and as a result was eventually chosen as one of 21 Arizonans, from a field of 300, to serve as a delegate to the second White House conference on small business. At the time, she says, small business had no lobbyists or other representation before the Legislative Branch. The conference was backed by a fledgling group, the National Federation of Independent Business owners (NFIBO), along with the Small Business Administration, the Department of Commerce and various local Chambers of Commerce. After honing down a list of issues from 600 to 60, the conference met to discuss such matters as liability insurance, mandated employee benefits, and the lack of entrepreneurial education. "The first White House meeting was very rough," says Farenga, "but the second set of delegates was more sophisticated, representing some of the finest minds in business. We bonded together, forming a united force."

Now, four years later, smart business delegations are again being chosen for a 1992 conference, this one backed by the NFIBO, National Small Business Unlimited, and other groups rather than government. They. will implement what the second conference had planned, says Farenga, centering their struggles this time against "taxes, taxes, taxes;' and particularly the task of defining and limiting the powers of the IRS. It's a scary prospect, she acknowledges, but "we're backed into a corner, and it's either us or them. We are fighting for the free market system, and we want free market values intact. Our businesses are no longer running on economic law, but from tax quarter to tax quarter. It's not healthy."

Closer to home, she devotes her time to the Arizona business climate. "We're being killed out here," she says. "This used to be one of the best states to start a business-that's why I came out here. But we are having growing pains with building an infrastructure and the police and so on. so you don't have an environment where business can grow." The state, she adds, is considering such policies as rental and service taxes, as Florida did a few years ago, although mandatory health plans have been squashed.

She continues, "Right now, the free market is taking a beating. We've lost control of business. This isn't America. I'm not working for the government, I'm working for myself and my employees. I'm a generator, a bottom-line producer. Give me a dime and I'll give you a dollar. But 1 can't do it without a healthy environment."

Her concern is that her town is relying too much on the biggies, the Coca-Cola's and IBM's, rather than the little companies, to save it. In a letter to a local paper, she wrote, "I don't think I have to tell the Marana citizens that when a small business is healthy, so are the townspeople. Only an entrepreneur can bring wealth into a community."

Her dedication to that community, intact, won her the coveted Small Business Challenger Award, given by the state's larger firms, known as the Big 10. It is given to companies with under 100 employees which have overcome obstacles to succeed and yet are still very involved in their communities. Pest-Techs scores in all areas.

As for insurance, the original problem that drove Farenga to advocacy, she notes that the state has passed a no-fault insurance, the Tort Amendment, that reduces costs by about 20 percent since it pays only for economic loss, saving other losses as matters for a court to decide. But, she adds, the state's Structural Pest Control Commission waived bonding about a year ago, and Arizona PCOs can no longer get bonding on projects.

Farenga has also served on the Marana planning and zoning commission and the Arizona Governor's Board of Affirmative Action, founded the town's Chamber of Commerce, and helped found Arizona Small Business United. "I like the lobbying effort of all of this," she says.

Other activities include the National Association of Women Business Owners. Farenga acknowledges that what others might choose to see as discrimination against women she views only as a challenge. "You have to be better than they are in order to succeed," she says. "That's easy for me."

Some of her community involvement, such as breakfast clubs, is designed to produce new business. A recent visit to a government procurement conference, for instance, led to a contract with Williams Air Force Base. Other major clients include the 800 homes of the First Southwest Diversified Partners in Tucson, the Marana School District and the University of Arizona Medical Center.

Recruitment a problem, Finding good workers is the hardest part of her business, she claims. "Pest control is so technical. I expect in the future it will take a two-year degree," she says. "The academic schools want it at the tech schools, and the tech schools want it in the academic schools. It's not white collar, but it's not blue collar."

She adds, "We took an entomology student out on a termite job," she adds, "to give him some real life experience, and he had to keep taking breaks from the rodding and trenching and so on. He got too tired."

But the tireless Farenga pushes on, working for both her company and her cause. "Running a small business means economic freedom to me," she says. "That choice is the only thing that separates me from the rest of the world."