From the top of the eight-story Presidents Place office building on Hancock Street, one of the tallest structures in Quincy, the view was outstanding: Boston on the horizon, the buildings of the historic city all around.
Dan McHugh didn't see that. His view was the window just inches from his face. Hanging by what, to the uninitiated, looked like a thread - but was really a well-secured bosun's chair on ropes - he focused on the task at hand: Soap the windows, one by one, and deftly squeegee them clean.
"When you're up there, it gives you time to think, really think," he said. "There's nothing else to do but wash windows and think."
McHugh is part of a little-noticed window-washing workforce that, if you look up, can be seen dangling high over the bustling commerce of our region. It may not be the most people's first job choice - just watching can make one's heart race and palms sweat - but McHugh loves it.
He came to the profession by chance. When he was in his 20s and working at a mall, he ran into someone who was a window washer, and was inspired to "give it a try."
Nine years later McHugh is still at it, working for Robert Lang, owner of LA Window Cleaning in Stoughton, a company that cleans windows from Rhode Island to New Hampshire. "This is the only business where you start at the top, and work your way down," quips Lang.
McHugh said he doesn't get scared by the heights he commands. In fact, he gets the occasional adrenalin rush from pushing his bosun's chair over the edge of the building, climbing in and scaling down to do a job not a lot of people do, or would want to.
Still, there are moments of fear - such as the time, while working at another company, that his improperly locked chair slipped and he fell a short distance before his safety rope caught.
"That was a little scary," he said. "My heart was racing the rest of the day."
One recent sunny and wind-free day - the latter being the more important - McHugh lowered himself smoothly off the Presidents Place roof, swabbed a window and wiped it clean, moving down to the next.
On a typical job, he does one vertical row at a time, takes the elevator back up, moves his gear over a row and down he goes again.
Working under an overhang poses a special challenge. McHugh has to swing in under it, bang a handle with double suction cups to the window, hold it to pull himself in, and use his one free hand to clean. It's not easy.
So what do window washers see on the job? After all, they're outside and people are in there doing . . . whatever people do in there.
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"Believe me, we've seen things no one wants to see," Lang said, telling a couple of funny but largely unprintable stories, not naming names or job sites.
Discretion is clearly required. "At places like MIT, you might see and hear things but you're sworn to secrecy," said Lang. He's also done Billy Bulger's Boston office and a building next to the players' parking lot at Fenway Park.
What McHugh does looks dangerous, but it is safer than it was a few years ago. In 2001, the window-cleaning industry developed an American National Safety Standard for Window Cleaning Safety, said Stefan Bright, safety director of the International Window Cleaners Association, a group of 650 member companies
It spelled out the responsibilities of window-washing companies, from the efficiency of the gear they use, to the need for building owners to ensure their roofs have adequate tie-downs for washers to use.
Gone are the days of looping ropes over anything handy on a roof, Lang said.
"Going back 10 to 20 years, the industry was averaging 18-22 fatalities a year," Bright said. "Since 2001, we've seen a dramatic decrease to eight to 12 a year."
Compare that with how many times people like McHugh swing over a roof to dangle down to their job. Bright's group estimates that nearly 2.5 million times a year, up to 10,000 window cleaners go off a roof in this country to keep the views pristine for those on the inside.
Lang's company, which began in 1991 and has not had a fatal accident, does not use what is known as "swing scaffolding" lowered down on pulleys from a roof. Rather, it favors bosun's chairs, and hydraulic booms with bucket seats. Ladders are used but not preferred, since they are considered most dangerous.
"Me, I'd rather do a chair than a ladder any day," said McHugh.
For the record, the soapy substance his company mostly uses isn't exactly super-expensive stuff. "Dawn dishwashing detergent works the best," said Lang.
Being a window washer opens one up to comments from passers by. Hearing "Hey, you missed a spot," is a common refrain.
The most oft-asked question is, "What do you do when you gotta go to the bathroom?' The answer: "You try to go before you go, just like you tell your kids before you leave on vacation," says Lang.
The work is largely seasonal; McHugh usually gets laid off a month or two in winter, collects unemployment and relaxes until warm weather and dirty windows on big buildings beckon his return.
He says he will continue the work as long as his body holds out, and then might look at the management side of the business. But for now, he'll keep slinging his swing over the sides of buildings. It has its advantages.
"Sometimes," he says, "I'll just turn the chair around and lean back on the building and look."
Paul E. Kandarian can be reached at kandarian@globe.com.
(not an actual picture of Dan McHugh)
