A Short, Personal Tale of Two Women Business Owners
The call came in just before noon, that kind of urgent, barely-contained panic in Charlene's* voice that I'd come to recognize in my years of IT consulting. Her transportation company's network was under attack from a virus that had been making headlines, and she was watching her business grind to a halt in real-time.
"Don't touch anything else," I instructed, already grabbing my emergency kit. "Don’t touch any machines that are still running and unplug them from the network immediately. I'll be there in twenty minutes."
When I arrived at her office, the usual din of dispatchers coordinating drivers had been replaced by an odd silence. Charlene met me at the door, her usual professional composure slightly frayed around the edges. The weather-worn sign above her door reading "Reliable Routes Transport*" seemed almost ironic at that moment.
"I've never seen anything like it," she said, leading me to their small server room. "One minute everything was fine, the next minute screens started going crazy. We can't access any of our routing software, the dispatch system is down..." She ran a hand through her hair. "We're having to coordinate everything by phone right now. I can’t afford to lose any of the days tickets."
I nodded, already pulling out my diagnostic tools and emergency boot drives. "You did exactly the right thing by taking everything offline," I assured her. "A lot of people panic and keep trying to work through it, which just makes things worse."
As I worked, we talked. It turned out we had both started our businesses around the same time – she'd seen an opportunity in specialized transportation, while I'd carved out my niche in cybersecurity consulting. We shared stories about the unique challenges of being women in male-dominated industries, exchanging knowing looks and quiet laughs about some of the more ridiculous situations we'd encountered.
The virus was nasty – one of those emerging threats that required a completely isolated environment to address. I booted each machine using specialized tools that allowed me to access the Windows registry without letting the virus activate. Hour by hour, I cleaned and fortified each system, while Charlene kept her business running through an impressive combination of cell phones and paper logs.
"It's like going back in time," she joked, showing me the handwritten dispatch board they'd improvised. "Though I have to admit, there's something satisfying about doing it old-school."
By late afternoon, I had cleaned the last system and implemented additional security measures – new firewall rules, enhanced email filtering, and properly configured network segmentation and data backup. As I walked Charlene through the new protections, I could see the tension finally leaving her shoulders.
"You know," she said as we wrapped up, "I was terrified when I made that call this morning. But watching you work... it's inspiring to see another woman business owner who really knows her craft."
I smiled, packing up my gear. "That's what we do, right? Hold each other up?"
"Absolutely," she agreed. "Though hopefully next time we meet, it won't be because of a crisis."
We exchanged business cards – the old-fashioned way, with real conversation and genuine interest in each other's ventures. As I drove home that evening, I reflected on how often these technical emergencies led to unexpected connections. In the end, it wasn't just about fixing computers – it was about being there for another entrepreneur who needed support, understanding, and a steady hand to guide them through the crisis.
The next week, Charlene sent me a referral – another woman-owned business in need of IT consulting. That's how our community grows, I thought. One connection, one crisis, one solution at a time.
*Names have been changed to protect the innocent