By Jason Stevenson

There are many ways to see the USS John F. Kennedy. Driving Interstate 95 near Philadelphia, you can spot the aircraft carrier’s T-shaped radar mast looming over rusty warehouses. Looking down from a plane on final approach to the airport, you can marvel at her flight deck that’s as long as three football fields. And from a concrete pier jutting into the Delaware River, your gaze can climb the gray steel hull to see pigeons landing where warplanes once soared. No matter your vantage point, this decommissioned carrier sits as silent and empty as a ghost ship. For two years, the JFK has inhabited this lonely berth on the outskirts of Philadelphia, attracting little attention from the fashionably-dressed employees of a nearby design studio.

But last November, the JFK’s limbo status changed when the Navy decided to donate the 42-year-old carrier as a floating museum and memorial similar to the USS Intrepid in New York City. Suddenly, like an aging starlet given a final shot at fame, the spotlight shone again on the JFK as civic boosters up and down the East Coast dreamed of snagging this charismatically named ship.

Enter Portland

Portland, as it turns out, is home to a group of those dreamers. “We feel the JFK will be a wonderful addition to the waterfront skyline of Portland and South Portland,” says Richard Fitzgerald, a director of the newly-formed USS John F. Kennedy Museum, a local non-profit seeking the carrier for Maine’s largest city. On January 4, Portland City Council unanimously endorsed their efforts, while Gov. John Baldacci also offered his support. But landing any retired warship, let alone a 60,000-ton supercarrier that’s 50 feet longer than Maine State Pier, is a multi-year and multi-million-dollar task. Fitzgerald says his group is up to the challenge, but veterans of the Navy’s donation process offer a warning. “You have to be fanatical to get these ships,” says F.W. “Rocco” Montesano, director of the USS Lexington Museum on the Bay in Corpus Christi, Texas. “But fanatics aren’t usually the best people to run them.”

Making the grade

Dreams and fanatics aside, the Navy runs its three-phase donation process on a strict timetable, and the first make-or-break deadline for the first phase fell in late January. As a result, Portland could be disqualified by the time this article is published. Or, it could be the only city in the Northeast still vying for the ship. [Editor's note: On February 2nd the Navy announced that Portland advanced to Phase 2 of the donation process along with another unknown city. Boston, surprisingly, is not in the running]. Either way, Portland’s ambitions are once again entwined with maritime history, and its residents must ponder–literally–how big a dream can a city dare?

Where would she go?

If Portland were to win the JFK, the most obvious question would be, where to put her? Fitzgerald is guarded about specifics, but he does allow that the ship would be moored in the harbor, with the exact location up to city officials. “If they tell us to put it on Cumberland Avenue, we’ll put it there,” he jokes. Realistically, only a few places could accommodate a ship that’s 1,052 feet long with a 30-foot draft. “One place that might work would be off the Eastern Promenade near the sewage treatment plant and Fort Allen Park,” suggests Jeff Monroe, the city’s former port director and now an executive at Halifax-based MacDonnell Group. “Dredging the shoreline could create a channel and protected berth for a deep-draft carrier, similar to what Long Beach did for the Queen Mary,” he adds. At this stage, however, a precise location isn’t required. “Most applications will move to the second phase unless they are proposing a location that physically can’t work,” says Glen Clark, deputy program manager for the Navy’s Inactive Ships Program, and one of the officials who reviews the applications.

Phase two

Identifying a suitable anchorage, however, is just one hurdle to overcome. If Portland is invited to compete in the second phase, Fitzgerald’s group will have one year to submit a detailed business plan, fundraising program, and environmental impact statements. “It’s a very daunting process and appropriately so,” says Scott McGaugh, marketing director for the USS Midway Museum in San Diego. He estimates his group raised $8 million and submitted 3,000 pages during the 12 years it took to acquire the Midway. Their success, McGaugh offers, was due to three factors: an accessible location; a long-term, business-savvy board; and leadership that transitioned from visionaries to managers. “I’ve talked with 15 cities like Portland, and most failed because they didn’t realize that getting the ship to town is nothing compared to running it as a
successful, viable business,” he adds. In McGaugh’s estimation, the Navy is like a demanding banker looking to make a zero-risk loan.

Show me the money

“If the JFK ever came to Portland, the public would get stuck paying millions of dollars to maintain it,” says Steven Scharf, a Portland resident active in conservative politics. Scharf, who opposes the JFK donation, points to the USS Yorktown, an aging aircraft carrier based in Charleston, South Carolina, that faces $100 million in dry-dock repairs and no plan–except for a public bailout–to pay for it. Even discounting expensive overhauls, most ship museums can’t support themselves from ticket sales alone and must rely on grants, donations, and fund-raisers to fill their budgets. Another concern is that museum ships have reached a saturation point, with almost every East Coast city hosting a submarine, destroyer, or other naval attraction. “There’s just not enough room for two aircraft carriers between New York and Maine,” warns Francis Lennon, president of a group trying to lure the USS Saratoga, a carrier similar in size to the JFK, to Rhode Island. Plus, local Portland non-profits are concerned that the JFK’s fund-raising efforts will exhaust the region’s already meager donors.

One more mission

“They need to think outside the box,” is Fitzgerald’s response to critics. To raise the millions of dollars to acquire and maintain the JFK, his group plans to cash in on the national appeal of its presidential name. “Why wouldn’t you support a project that is totally funded by deep-pocketed donors outside the city when all the money will be invested inside the harbor?” Fitzgerald asks. Plus, he notes that the USS John F. Kennedy Association–a group representing the carrier’s former crew members–has pledged to generate publicity and raise funds for Portland’s bid. But most of all, Fitzgerald says he is confident that Portland can win the JFK based on community support. “When we first discussed this project, we figured Portland’s chances were 1 in 150 million,” he says. “But when the council passed the resolution, those odds dropped to 1 in 10.” Now he’s hoping Portland residents, especially those who remember the JFK’s last port call in October 1989, will join the effort to make the USS John F. Kennedy Museum, like Portland Head Light, a nationally recognized landmark that makes the whole city proud.

Coming in March: ussjfk.org, a website for the USS John F. Kennedy Museum, Portland.  A former staff editor at Outside and Backpacker magazines, Jason Stevenson writes for Wired, Men’s Journal, Boston, and Runner’s World.

“If I Were Governor…”

Where do Maine’s gubernatorial candidates 
stand on bringing the JFK to Portland Harbor?

I support the coming of the John F. Kennedy to Portland. Having the ship in Maine waters is an opportunity for revenue to come to Maine. This will allow an increase of people-traffic to come to businesses’ sidewalks, plus a lot more opportunities for the history of Maine with Bath Iron Works.

–Augustus J. Edgerton (I)

It’s unlikely that private fund-raising will cover even the transportation costs. The multi-million- dollar maintenance will inevitably fall to the city of Portland. There are far less expensive ways to boost tourism.

–Peter Mills (R)

Yes, if it would create some type of secondary or after-market industry that could provide stable, long-term employment with benefits, not just sporadic or seasonal work.

–Samme Bailey (I)

Yes, I am in support of the USS John F. Kennedy coming to Portland due to the history surrounding President Kennedy himself. He was a positive inspiration to many younger people to get involved in politics. Many of today’s Democrats in office are directly due to President Kennedy’s impact on politics.

–Peter Truman (D)

I am very much in support of that. It would attract tourism, and it would support the military and be patriotic. My only concern would be if the ship was nuclear powered, as I am very anti-nuclear.

–Christopher Cambron (D)

I’m a huge supporter, as long as it didn’t cost the taxpayers extra money. It should be voluntary on the taxpayers’ part, and they should be involved in any discussion of how to fund it. I served aboard the USS Thresher, so I have an affinity for naval vessels, and I think it would be a great tourist attraction.

–J. Martin Vachon (R)

It’s a wonderful thing, bringing it to Maine and turning it into a museum. I can’t imagine how the JFK wouldn’t be a major tourist attraction. It would be wonderful.

–Paul LaPage (R)

Before I could consider such a proposal, I’d have to see a plan detailing private financing and logistics–such as where the carrier would be anchored.

–Steve Abbott (R)

Yes, I am in favor. I think it would be fascinating to explore a ship of that size. I think it would be a great learning tool, and it would no doubt give a boost to the local waterfront economy.

–John Whitcomb (I)

I support bringing the JFK to Portland. The thing that we’ll miss most from NAS Brunswick’s closing is the demonstration of service in our community. Without that first-hand experience, Maine children will miss the lesson that our country is special and that dedicated men and women spend their lives defending it and us at great personal cost and risk.

–Matt Jacobson (R)

My initial reaction is that it would be great to have a floating historical museum covering 40 years of history. But a quick yes or no should never happen to any recommendations made to increase tourism. We must always do our homework in looking at the pluses and minuses of bring the ship to Portland.

–Donna J. Dion (D)

I think having it will encourage tourists to visit the area and offer a venue for many exciting events for Maine people. We need to make sure it fits into the vision for a vibrant working waterfront. What an opportunity to promote historic preservation and teaching!

–Elizabeth “Libby” Mitchell (D)

An aircraft carrier in Casco Bay would exemplify Maine’s maritime and naval heritage and our strategic military and economic location as America’s closest seaport to the European Union and North Atlantic.

–Bill Beardsley (R)

Yes. This is a part of our history. It’s always important to preserve our history, and if we can do that in Portland, then that’s great.

–Lynne Williams (I)

I support the efforts to bring the USS Kennedy to Portland as long as it can be operated and maintained as a floating museum through private funding, not state tax dollars.

–Eliot Cutler (I)

Bringing the USS John F. Kennedy to Maine, either as a permanent attraction or as part of a temporary exhibition, is a great idea. Tourism equals jobs in Maine.

–Les Otten (R)

I think it is a wonderful idea. I am in support as long as the organization can support the project. I’d need to see financial projections for three to five years before approval.

–Beverly Cooper-Pete (I)

I support the idea generally. However, issues such as berthing location, impact on other port activities, and funding must be considered. It should boost tourism and be a tribute to veterans.

–Steve Rowe (D)

The local community would need to be interested. If Portland were interested, then I would use the influence of the office of governor to make it happen.

–John Richardson (D)

Though an interesting proposal, costs and benefits must be carefully weighed, and all stakeholders heard–particularly Portlanders, who might ultimately bear the cost, perhaps indefinitely, should the venture go awry.

–Rosa Scarcelli (D)

I would support that. I was brought into politics by John F. Kennedy. I was on board when that ship was decommissioned in Boston, and I’d love to land an airplane on it!

–Patrick McGowan (D)

Yes, I would support bringing the USS JFK to Portland and believe it would be an interesting tourist attraction.

–Bruce Poliquin (R)

Interview by Colin W. Sargent

One of your zillion internet fans says that while she admires the interior consciousness in Body Surfing, she especially loves how real your story is. That you really feel right on the beach, in that magic house, because your details about the seashore have “sandy feet.”

It’s true of any place you write about. The only way to make a reader trust you is get the details right before you both take that extraordinary leap. If you get the feel of what it’s like to walk in the dark on the sand, or get a kitchen or a garden right…then, when a character does something kind of awful, the reader is willing to go with you.

Some reviews have described your fictional beach house, which appears in four of your novels inspired in some measure by Maine, as a character in itself. Is it based on your place in Biddeford Pool?

It’s based on a house I saw when taking a walk, and I keep changing it. I’ve made it bigger, added more dormers, moved it to New Hampshire, done what I wanted with it.

You’ve been praised for the evocative swimming scenes in Body Surfing. Seriously? What about that icy Labrador Current here? Do you actually get out there in the summers and body surf?

I do. I used to go out there in a bathing suit; now, I have a wetsuit. I love body surfing. It’s one of the few things in life I’m actually good at. I’ve done it since I was a kid. I remember my father teaching us, telling us exactly what to do. It was what you did when you didn’t have other things to play with in the water.

Like Fortune’s Rocks, Body Surfing suggests multiple levels of meaning. Where were you when you came up with that title?

I don’t remember where I was, but I think it’s been with me all my life. I knew that she would be a body surfer and that the brothers would be. I saw that metaphorically it would be a very good title.

When you come to Portland on April 9 to kick off the opening night of the Maine Festival of the Book with Tess Gerritsen, what will you be reading from, and why will it be especially appropriate for a Maine audience?

You know, I’m thinking I’ll read from Body Surfing or Sea Glass, because they both take place right on the beach. If I’m in Maine, I’ll read a Maine theme, even though my latest novel takes place in Africa.

There are so many different Maines to write about. Biddeford Pool and Biddeford seem like two vastly different places so close together. As one of the Biddeford Pool elite, can you tell us about your coming to understand the Franco-American cultural inheritance in Biddeford that enriches Fortune’s Rocks?

I did a lot of research in Fortune’s Rocks. I read a lot of books about the mill towns, about the history of Biddeford-Saco, and found that the thing that is most telling is the photographs. You can see the light in the photo, what kind of day the people were having, so that you’ll be [creating something emotionally authentic]. If the reader doesn’t trust you, he feels kind of lost.

Fortune’s Rocks covers Beacon Hill in Boston so well that readers must have wondered, is Anita Shreve related to the Shreve in the legendary jewelry store Shreve, Crump & Low?

No, I’m not, but I live not far from Beacon Hill right now. I used to live in Boston many years ago and knew a little bit about the history. It’s also in Body Surfing, because that’s where she goes to the hotel.

Tell us about Biddeford Pool in the winter, when all the sidewalks are rolled up. Can you discover more about yourself and your characters when you’re up here then?

In a way, yes. A number of scenes in the books do take place off season, and for those who don’t live there and visit in the winter there’s kind of something wonderful and beautiful about it. Even in a snowstorm, there’s something magical about it. On the other hand, my neighbors have told me that by March 1, you have to go [take a short vacation from Maine] or you’d shoot yourself. Everyone in New England, I think, is ready to shoot himself by March 1.

Booth Tarkington once had an edition of his work published called the Seawood Edition, named for his summer house in Kennebunkport. What would your Maine-flavored collection be called, and what four novels would be in it?

They’d be the ones in the house: Fortune’s Rocks, Sea Glass, The Pilot’s Wife, Body Surfing. You’d call it [the collection] Fortune’s Rocks.

Do Mainers recognize you at grocery stores, bookstores, in restaurants?

It’s a thrill when someone recognizes me and I’m not actually on the stage. It’s a particular thrill when someone from Maine with an accent says something nice about my work. It’s funny–some of the best senses of humor I’ve ever encountered are from Mainers. They pride themselves on being down to earth. They’re no nonsense and full of terrific dry wit–authentic. They don’t mind giving you the business at all, and it’s usually pretty amusing. But they don’t suffer fools.

A foolish question, then. Since you’re an Oprah Book Club-endorsed author, and since Oprah Winfrey has come to Maine to antique (she likes Shaker), have you ever met up with her here?

No. I didn’t know she came here.

But again, on Mainers, I don’t have the authority to speak about Maine or Maine characters. It will take me a lot of  years to speak with any authority on anything in Maine, other than to say I believe the character of the ‘Mainer’ does not universally apply. I think there are a lot of people, a lot of angry people, a lot of people trapped in pretty bad poverty. There are at least two Maines, maybe three or four, and they’re very distant…

I spent a lot of time in Sebago Lake as a kid–Naples, at the Lake Sebago camping ground. So if someone were trailing around, wondering what my memories of Maine are, there’s one.

Gordon Ramsay recently spent some time surfing on the Maine coast. He had plenty of places to choose from, but he came here. Can you give us a sound-bite answer about what the extraordinary draw is here?

It’s beauty within a framework of restraint. It’s not the lovely white sand beach, pale-green shallow out for a 100 feet. It’s rugged. That word is used a lot, but it’s right. It has a clarity, a purity.

Do you own a Kindle? What do you think the future is for musty, wonderful, tangible books?

No, I won’t own a Kindle, but I think it’s better than people give it credit for. There’s no fighting the future. A whole generation in college now doesn’t read books. Instead, it gets its information online. More people will get their books by electronic means in the future, but I will not see a universe in which there are no bookstores.

Since this is our Foodie Issue, tell us three favorite restaurants you love here.

Pier 77 and The Ramp underneath it, in Cape Porpoise. Grissini I like a lot. Fore Street.

You’ve told us that while writing, you sometimes find yourself craving a bacon sandwich that takes you back in time, and when you’re in the grip of such a sensation, your characters have been known to get hungry, too. Can you tell us your sensual recipe for the bacon sandwiches you fall victim to during a writing binge?

Real simple. You go into the woods. Make a fire. Of course, this is in the old days. Two pieces of white bread. Toast them over the fire. You know what bread looks like when it’s toasted in a fire? It’s different than a toaster. Cook the bacon in a frying pan. Put the bacon between the two toasted pieces of bread, and you eat it. It’s the best thing on earth.

On wild nights, Maine’s ski resorts are Spring Break on ice.
By Molly MacLeod

Sugarloaf

“We’ve had cross-dressing night, luau night, pirate parties, Spam-eating contests, and hard-boiled-egg-eating contests,” says Sugarloaf’s Ethan Austin of “White White World Week,” five days in January (24-28) during which couples sponsored by local watering holes vie for the prize of ‘King and Queen of the ‘Loaf’ in competitions on and off the slopes. “Those eating contests can get out of hand. I’ve never done one myself, but I’ve seen enough to know I don’t want to. See, it’s the darkest month of the year. It’s just how people let loose.”

The week also features a “dummy jump” in which “people build dummies out of anything they can get their hands on-I’ve seen an old toilet bowl on a pair of skis”-and send them careening down the mountain. The winner, says Austin, is “the one with the most spectacular crash.”

Add that to Sugarloaf’s long list of wintertime shenanigans, which include partying at the Widowmaker Lounge, or attending the Snowmaker’s Ball (4/7), live performances by Little Feat (1/16) and Rustic Overtones (3/27), and the annual Reggae Fest in April (4/5-7), which draws a crowd of 4,000-5,000 and regularly schedules local reggae bands like Royal Hammer, plus headliners from Kingston and Clarendon, Jamaica, like The Wailers and Barrington Levy. (Picture a sea of heads bobbing to live reggae on “The Beach” flanking the base lodge amid a Budweiser-scented breeze-and you’re right there.)

Don’t count on Austin for detailed anecdotes, though. “It’s just a weekend-long party. Once it starts, you just kind of blink and then you wake up and it’s over.” In any case, it feels okay.

Sunday River

Sunday River has long been a skiing Mecca for its activities centered around the resort’s eight peaks. But after the lifts close, Sunday River scenesters make the Matterhorn their first stop. The Bethel ski bar has “great food, cool peeps, and some of the largest drinks in the state,” says a blog posting by house band Last Kid Picked, whose regular wintertime gigs “draw a line out the door,” according to bar owner Roger Beaudoin. The band isn’t exaggerating about the elephantine proportions of the Matterhorn’s token libation, the 60-ounce Glacier Bowl.

But the wood-fired pizza (they have pies with Swiss-Alps-themed titles like the Monte Rosa) and ample people-watching opportunities (sightings include Katie Couric, the Gin Blossoms, and exercise infomercial guru Tony Little) should keep patrons from spiraling off into an après-ski stupor.

The Matterhorn warms big crowds to raucous events like annual Mardi Gras and New Year’s Eve parties, as well as shows by disco-revival band Motor Booty Affair. “Every night here is an event,” Beaudoin says. “We call ourselves the greatest show off snow.”

Further downtown, The Jolly Drayman, an English pub nestled within The Briar Lea Inn, is “a smaller version of Cheers,” according to bartender Duncan MacDougall. “People come in just to see what’s on draft, and we take pride in our beer selection. One Monday night, we had eight Canadian doctors come in and basically take the place over.” Faster than you can say Great White North, “they were loud and obnoxious, throwing money around,” as though surprised by the potency of Maine’s spirits or simply the notion of ‘happy hour.’” “One of them tried one of those Dogfish Head 120-minute IPAs [20 percent alcohol] and passed out on the couch. When people have a few beers after skiing, they tend to get drunk quicker than usual. Or maybe they’re just happier.”

Mt. Abram

All winter long, Mt. Abram hosts full-moon hikes to the summit, where a bonfire awaits starry-eyed expeditioners “who then ski back down the mountain to shrug off their parkas, drink Fearless Leaders, and dance to music by Brand New Mixture in the Loose Boots Lounge,” Kevin Rosenberg says.

In March, the mountain hosts Gritty McDuff’s Whitegrass/Bluegrass Music Festival (3/27), “the only bluegrass festival on snow in the U.S., with local bands Jerks of Grass, the Swamp Donkeys, and Cumberland Crossing.” On top of that, “I’ve seen a lot of knee-slappin’ bluegrass” at the Jolly Drayman, which is “small in size and big in heart.” Also in March (3/7), “we’ll be hosting the ‘Knees in the Breeze Telebration.’” The New England Telemark Ski Association visits in style, with instructors and equipment for people to try.”

After working up a thirst skiing Mt. Abram’s three new double-diamond glades, “I’d hit The Suds Pub [at The Sudbury Inn] for Thursday night ‘Hoot Night,’ where local musicians get up and play, then end up at the Funky Red Barn on Bethel’s Main Street, more of the local scene,” Rosenberg says. “Everyone from local firefighters to gubernatorial candidates shows up here-it’s like a class reunion, cruise ship, and dance party all in one.”

“My friends and I go there after work sometimes just to people-watch,” MacDougall says. “I’d compare it to goin’ out on Fore Street in the Old Port.” Any specialty drinks?

“Two-dollar PBRs and Allen’s Coffee Brandy,” Rosenberg laughs. “That’s my snap on it.”

Shawnee Peak

Shawnee Peak’s Spring Fling in March (3/20) is another explosion of riotous energy, steeped by months of cabin fever. The party includes barbeque, live reggae music, and a slush cup-a water-filled, dug-out hole that brave souls try to skim across on their skis. “It never gets old,” says Melissa Rock, the mountain’s marketing director. “It’s always fun to watch people land in a pool of cold water.”

Year-round opportunities for dancing (or a quiet, cozy pint) include Bray’s Brew Pub in Naples, which has “live blues music, a great oatmeal stout, and some of the best pulled pork North of…the South. I don’t know where pulled pork originated, but theirs is awesome,” says Shawnee Peak’s Josh Harrington. He also likes Ebenezer’s in Lovell for the knowledgeable staff, Belgian-style beer, and perfect location-”they’re right off a snowmobile trail.” The morning after, stamp your boots at The Blizzard pub inside Shawnee’s base lodge-”they have some of the best Bloody Marys around,” says Harrington, who dares the bloodies at Sugarloaf and Sunday River to match up.

Heather Waild, Shawnee Peak’s operations manager, also likes The Blizzard for après-ski or après-work margaritas, but watch where you sit-”I have a special seat at the bar. When people see me coming, they get out of my chair.”

Lost Valley

Lost Valley is romantic, nostalgic, and a hometown blast. “It’s where my friends and I all learned to ski,” says local Matt Dodge, 22, of the Auburn attraction. “Since they were the first mountain in Maine to offer night skiing, we could take lessons after school.” February 26 is Lost Valley’s “Turn ‘til 12 Night,” when the lifts run till midnight, according to co-owner Connie King. “Then there’s Thursday corporate racing and Bud nights, where the bar is just packed. People [from firms such as Advanced Orthotics, the Lewiston Sun Journal, Chipman Farms, and a motorcycle stunt team by the name of Vertical Outlaws] go out and race and then just party. We also have live bands every Friday night and a beach party on the first Friday in March.”

“The City of Auburn Winter Festival runs from January 29 through the first week in February, and we have entertainment in the lounge by [Portland band] Under the Covers,” says snow sports director Tad Bettcher.

Lost Valley also hosts visits from “the Jäger girls and the Volta [‘energy' vodka] girls, where the bar runs an energy drink special [featuring a delicate admixture of Volta and Monster],” says King.

That’ll get you amped up for a visit to Lost Valley’s twangy neighbor, Club Texas, an all-ages dance club in Auburn that invigorates “a mechanical bull once a month, sells Western hats and buckles, and provides the venue and the official to perform ‘the rite’” for couples lookin’ to get hitched (you can even hire a country band like Dirty McCurdy, The Honkytonkers, or Shania “Twin” for the reception). Or stop by Gippers Sports Grill, a longtime favorite of Dodge’s for its reliable après-ski food and beer and familiar wait staff.

On March 14, the mountain hosts the “Lost Valley Snodeo,” with “pond skimming, cardboard box races, a chili contest,” and, of course, the indispensable mechanical bull-an aptly kickin’ finale to a lustrous winter here.

Camden Snow Bowl

The annual U.S. Toboggan National Championships, held here from February 5-7 at Camden Snow Bowl, “is a big tailgate party, but it’s also a serious event,” says ski school director Andrew Dailey. “Thousands of people crowd in to watch 400 teams compete. We’re talking fireworks, a chili-chowder challenge, and this year, comedian Bob Marley will be here.” Is it something about the toboggans inspires onlookers to dress up in costumes here, too? “I’ve seen everything from Thing 1 and Thing 2 to The Incredibles characters,” Dailey says.

Although the municipally-owned mountain (which is, by the way, “the only [ski mountain] in the lower 48 from which you can see the ocean”) doesn’t yet offer an après-ski scene on site (a $6.5 million upgrade promises to address this, with new trails and a restaurant/bar), “Downtown, there’s Peter Ott’s [Steakhouse & Tavern], Gilbert’s Publick House, Smokestack Grill, and Waterfront Restaurant,” says Dailey.

“I wouldn’t say it’s a rowdy town, but it depends on where you go.” And perhaps when-”We’re big on college breaks.”

Saddleback Mountain

“The trick about Saddleback is it takes just 15 minutes to get from the mountain to downtown Rangeley,” says Matt Dodge, “so I’d recommend having your first decompressing beer upstairs [at the Swig ‘n Smelt Pub in the base lodge].” While you’re there, stay for the music-”We host a weekend concert series featuring (this winter): Steve Riley and the Mamou Playboys (1/1, $25), [folksinger] Jonathan Edwards (2/13, $30), The Derailers (3/27, $20), and Bob Marley (2/16, $20),” we’re told by a mountain staffer.

“After that,” says Dodge, “head downtown for the party.” Specifically fuel up at The Red Onion, a long-standing pizza joint that makes the brief sojourn from the mountain worthwhile, then to Sarge’s Sports Pub, where you can dance to music by The Snowtones, a band led by ski patrol member Bob Greene, or classic rock covers played by the Tom Ball Band. Sarge’s is “the sports pub,” according to Dodge’s father, Rick, another ski patrol member, and, says a Saddleback employee; “You don’t leave without seeing something happening.” “There’s a parquet floor like in the Boston Garden,” says Matt Dodge, and everyone agrees the dance floor fills up fast. “I remember coming off the mountain after a full day of skiing and going straight to Sarge’s because my dad had to catch the UMaine hockey game. I was so tired, I fell asleep on the Pac-Man machine.”

Too bad, because then he missed going to The Club House, another rite of passage in Rangeley. “It’s a half-restaurant, half-bar and pool hall-right off the snowmobile trails, so it’s absolutely inundated with snowmobilers, who are a pretty rowdy set,” says Dodge. “You can barely find a table because they’re all covered with snowmobile helmets and gear that people have stripped off.”

Ah, the release of the sweaty parka-shuck! But then, sharing the streets with the “rough and tumble snowmobile crowd,” as Rick Dodge calls them, is part of Rangeley’s appeal-down-to-earth, with a dash of two-stroke engine fuel.

by Todd M. Richard

When you follow the pointed fingers, the answer to this question may surprise you.

The specter of an empty State Theatre has been haunting Congress Street for years now. Restored and reopened to acclaim between 1994-2006 (with its gilt balconies and Moorish theme, it was like stepping into a vaulted palace in New Arabian Nights), it has remained shuttered since and shrouded in silence with no promise of reopening ever.

Its decline from grand-dame cinema status to that of a smut-film street mistress and the rocky road to its current dormancy is one of the more tragic stories rattling its chains along Congress Street. Built in 1929, it operated as a first-run movie house until the 1960s, when it became a porn theater, closing in 1989.

If the world made sense, you’d have to imagine angry Portland residents thronging the doors to demand the circumstances of the State’s current closure, especially given the good will campaign launched in the early 1990s to build support for its reopening–a triumph for downtown community volunteerism. But instead, we’ve largely been quiet, with only the sound of cars slushing past its darkened interior on their way to the Maine Mall.

It was bad enough when the theater was reduced to a desultory venue for porn flicks. Now, we’ve discovered there’s a plane of entertainment existence even lower than that, something that’s happened on ‘our’ watch as we’ve watched it die–that is, nothing. To better understand what series of events has conspired to kidnap the State Theatre from its audience, and by association, our city’s dreams from a decade ago, let’s visit the ghosts of the State Theatre’s past, present, and future to find what really happened and what the future may hold.

The Ghost of State Theatre Past: Kevin LeDuc, photographer

In the years leading to 1993, the State was in a state of being and nothingness quite similar to where it is today: shuttered, in disrepair, and struggling with the expectations of a city which had previously held high hope for this grand drawing card.

Photographer Kevin LeDuc was there from the very genesis of this renaissance. As the official photographer of the State Theatre, he worked under Kelly Graves and Steve Bailey, who were the operators of the business and producers of the exciting new events.

It may not be a surprise to learn that Nick and Lola Kampf, the owners of the wondrous new State, were perhaps in over their heads.

“Lola was a great woman to work with,” LeDuc says. “She was gracious, gregarious, really excited about the theater. But my recollection is, we never saw Nick, unless he was there to stop any one of Lola’s projects. She would work with Kelly to establish these great plans, and Nick would refuse to fund them. It was obvious there was something really wrong there.”

In spite of the apparent disconnect at the management level, the State greeted the community of Portland with open doors and arms, reclaiming its 1920s grandeur as a vital part of the city. A showing of the classic The Wizard of Oz on the State’s enormous cinema screen was no average affair; kids in full regalia walked down a Congress Street as though following the Yellow Brick Road. With cafe tables, drinks, and an artsy menu bringing the audience right up to the stage, the theater regularly held “dinner and a show” nights where featured artists often mingled with the crowds before taking to the stage.

“The night Bob Dylan came, Dylan’s people were really strange about photographs, and they had made it clear that none would be taken during the show,” LeDuc says.

But the resourceful Graves found a way to snap some shots celebrating the event in spite of the dictum. “Kelly told me to stick around. Before long, at the pre-show dinner, I was under banquet tables with my camera, shooting Dylan from customers’ laps.

“Dylan was there as a favor,” LeDuc says. “They were friends, Dylan and Kelly and Steve. They’d worked together before, and he came to play the State to help out.”

Favors poured in from everywhere, not just from on high. The groundswell of support was so massive for the reopening of the State, most of the people working were actually volunteers, allowing the State to be staffed with as few as three people sometimes. With this kind of stone soup in playºand a Rolodex containing famous friends, the State seemed poised for limitless success. To put things over the top, the owners permitted the installation of top-notch audio equipment. “We had the best sound system in New England–a huge selling point.”

But, altogether too soon, the ceiling came crashing down, literally. During a show, a huge chunk of plaster from the theater’s ceiling fell on the audience, creating an immediate fiasco and a far more troubling long-term concern. As far as observers can determine, because the ceiling had recently been rehabbed, the Kampfs refused to pay.

“In August of 1995, an argument took place about who was really to pay for these repairs, the owners or the operators, and this effectively closed the theater until an agreement was reached.”

After repairs, the theater reopened, only to be silenced more soundly a few months later when a larger piece of the ceiling dislodged and fell to the audience during a particularly raucous Barenaked Ladies show.

This nail, or its apparent lack, was the last in the coffin for the Kampfs. The State was officially shuttered in January 1996.

The Ghost of State Theatre Present: Wally Wentzel, sound engineer

In 2000, Grant Wilson, Jr., of Stone Coast Brewing took ownership control of the State Theatre building and reopened the venue with a new energy. Hoping to capitalize on the energy of the live music industry around the Northeast, he began hands-on operation to ride the wave here.

During this time, local soundman and musician Wally Wentzel was brought on board as house sound engineer. Despite a wealth of road experience managing large systems, he quickly tried to make the best of the State’s now aging sound equipment and navigate its byzantine wiring.

This challenge meant that for most of the shows, he’d have to truck in additional sound equipment at a substantial cost, diminishing their profits and budgets for necessary upgrades and repairs.

“The place was a whale. It needed an entirely new electrical system. I swear that it was still the same panels from the original 1929 install.”

Another significant repair going untended proved to be a turning point in the fate of the State. Fire escapes all over the building were broken and unsecured, and this was gaining attention.

“The State was a union shop up until that point, and then they just walked out. People refused to work because of safety conditions, saying that it was too dangerous.”

Then there was the supernatural thing. Shortly after arriving, Wentzel presented a show called “The Haunting of the State,” a multi-band showcase featuring his own fright-rock band, The Horror. It was as much an attempt at a financially solvent show as it was a chance to build some good will in the local music community.

While it got a fair amount of local press and a respectable crowd, the show seemed equally as much a muse for Horror frontman/mastermind and “Haunting” co-presenter Ricky Boy Floyd, who debuted his shock flick Attack of the 50 Foot Liar that same evening.

The period was rife with unusual behavior. “(Floyd) had me lock him in the State overnight, wanting to see if he could freak himself out. All he had on him was an old Walkman with a cassette of the soundtrack to The Shining. That might have been the most scared I’ve ever seen that guy.”

The following years, the State’s doors opened and closed in fits and starts. It was closed for a portion of 2003, but open long enough for the wildly popular rock band Guster to mount a production here in Dec-ember for the filming of a live DVD, spanning two nights of concert performances.

Why, then, was the State safe enough for Guster to play but unsafe otherwise?

Released in May of 2004, Guster on Ice: Live from Portland, Maine is a thrilling reminder of a State Theatre of the past, showing a jubilant audience on their feet and a venue seemingly free of the problems that have ruined so many years. Vividly and poignantly, it shows what we’ve been missing and what’s been so curiously held away from us.

In early 2006, Maine Entertainment, LLC, the firm that had been operating the theater under an agreement with owner Grant Wilson was officially evicted due to failure to pay rent. Since then, the State has remained closed.

Flying in the face of its current emptiness, Wentzel insists that The State is occupied. “Oh yeah, it’s totally haunted. No doubt. I’ve encountered spirits around the old projection room. So many people that have mentioned getting “grabbed” while walking upstairs, like the stairway up to the green room.”

Uncannily, this is the same stairwell where, in the State’s previous incarnation, photographer LeDuc had long since displayed a veritable night gallery of his portraits of performers past.

Future: The State Theatre, Vacant Performing Arts Building

There is a fair amount of trying to reconcile past issues. “I’d point it at the ownership,” says photographer LeDuc. “At least 90 percent. If you’re the owner, you’re obligated to fix things. That’s the bottom line.”

But what about city inspectors who appear, at least from an audience perspective, one day to permit performances, only to imply it’s not up to code the next?

No matter how sordid the past or grievous the present, there’s nothing more frightening than what faces us now: a massive, vacuous, dark building occupying a central location in downtown Portland. Worse than that, it’s beauty unseen.

While stories vary from sentimental to sour, fewer people are talking about the State Theatre. It’s more of a rant now.

Some cry out that the most obvious reason for the indefinite vacancy is the lease agreement for operators, reported to be lopsided and inequitable. Soundman Wentzel confirms, “From what I understand, they’re asking for a 25-year duration and an unreasonable monthly rent. Who can do that these days?”

Andy Verzosa, owner of Aucocisco Gallery, is a former tenant of the State Theatre block, where he ran his gallery for 10 years. “It’s a business, and they’ve got to get their money out of it. If you see the listing of available spaces (in the office building adjacent to the theater), you’ll see two and a half pages of open studios and storefronts because, like the theater, the rents are too high. The high rents are killing that neighborhood, so I moved. If you really want to see that whole place succeed, condo everything. Give all of the business owners the chance to own their own piece of real estate on that block. Then, take the money from selling these spaces and fund the renovation of the theater. You’ll have private individuals, not big absentee companies, owning property on Congress Street. You’ll revitalize not only that building, but the whole neighborhood.”

The most accurate and current picture of the State is revealed by the property management office itself. “There are no plans. Nothing is happening right now.”

Promoter Lauren Wayne, who presented countless concerts here for producer Live Nation, confidently states, “In order for the State to be successful you need to have three things: money, an astute business sense, and a working knowledge of concert promotion and marketing. If you only have one or two of those things, you’re going to fail. You need all three.”

Kevin LeDuc recognizes this but shows his skepticism. “I hate to be a pessimist, but I don’t know if it will ever open again. I don’t think we have the people anymore. You need lots of different strengths, and I am standing on shaky ground if I said there were all the right people, business-wise and music-wise.”

He finishes with something on everyone’s mind. “Ten years have gone by since its last real success. Shouldn’t something have happened by now?”

And, as members of the State’s lost audience, shouldn’t we all have cared more about what we’ve been missing and insisted upon more direct involvement from our city officers and arts leaders? In this light, haven’t we all killed the State Theatre ourselves or kidnapped the notion of what it could, or should, be?

The State Theatre and its adjoining commercial units are currently owned by Stone Coast Properties, controlled by members of the Wilson family and overseen by Ron Goglia. They are cumulatively valued at $4,127,000

“Why I think the State Theatre isn’t open…”

Hilary Bassett, Executive Director of Greater Portland Landmarks “I’m not precisely sure why it isn’t open. It was amazing when the whole volunteer group got the stage repaired–a great community effort. Lots of people are hoping to see it open again. You should call Jan Beitzer of Portland Downtown District to learn more about this.”

Deb Andrews, Historic Preservation Program Manager for the City of Portland “I really don’t know. I don’t have a strong knowledge of the circumstances there to offer something particularly germane. I’m not trying to be coy, but there are probably others who could help you. You might want to talk to Nelle Hanig or Jan Beitzer.”

Jan Beitzer, Executive Director of Portland Downtown District “Because they can’t make the building code. I’m not being flip, but…the building has public safety issues, and they have to put a lot of money into it to bring it up to code. I don’t know exactly what the codes are…Have you called Nelle Hanig?”

Nelle Hanig, Business Development Representative for the City of Portland “It’s my understanding there are a lot of code issues needed to modernize it and make it safe for events.  I really don’t know the extent  of what needs to be done at the building. You should call the city fire marshal.”

Frederick LaMontagne, Fire Chief for the City of Portland “I don’t know if there are any outstanding issues with the fire codes, but it would depend on the use, and outstanding violations don’t have a lot of relevance if the previous tenants are no longer there. We would love to work with anyone interested in starting up on the property and would very much like to see it occupied and a thriving part of the neighborhood up there. I suggest you talk to the economic development office.”

Jill Duson, Acting Mayor, City of Portland “It’s been a while since I’ve touched those issues, but I think there are coding and repair issues. Our staff is uniquely qualified to work in partnership to match up the kind of resources that are out there to leverage dollars, if that’s what’s needed. We stand at the ready to meet  with the management team and any developers who might be involved to discuss where are we and where can we go. In terms of dollars, the city’s ability is limited in this economy, but our energy level and desire to lend assistance is high.”

Barbara Whitten, President of Greater Portland Convention and Visitors Bureau “I don’t really know, because [the CVB] hasn’t been connected to the State Theatre in years. But I remember going to the opera there, and it was spectacular. And driving down the street, I’d see a line out the door. It’s a stunning facility, and if it had the support that Merrill Auditorium has, it would be great. But it’s uncared for by people in the community, and it’s too bad. Portland is becoming a destination for cultural events, and the State Theatre could be a jewel in that crown.”

Rob Evon, Owner/General Administrator of Port City Music Hall “It’s because of the renovations that are needed to reopen it as a music venue. And the owner doesn’t want to pony up the money. The last estimate I think was over a million dollars. The investment and recovery period for the investment would be huge, and they don’t have the interest in that. My inside track is that the Wilsons are focusing their investment money on places other than Maine. I don’t know why, but I think operating the State Theatre would be financially difficult. It was popular, but 80-90 percent of all State shows were filled to limited capacity–around 300-700 people [out of a possible 1,500]. Being beneficial for the music scene and operating a financially profitable business are two different things.”

David Marshall, Portland City Councillor, District 2 “As I understand it, Stone Coast Properties is doing some work inside the building to bring up some of the codes. They’re eliminating the bathrooms in the basement that didn’t have two means of egress and putting in new bathrooms. They’re putting in some fire escapes and are looking to lease it to a theater company, where the tenant will be responsible for keeping up with the electrical codes. I don’t know what Grant Wilson’s involvement is. I think his parents are more involved at this point. Originally, Stone Coast was trying to find a tenant that would do all the upgrades, but they’ve started to do some things to help prospective tenants out.“

Joe Gray, Portland City Manager “I have no idea why they stay closed. I know they’ve been working with our inspection staff on fire-escape and bathroom improvements that they needed to make. I don’t know whether or not there is a code problem or a market-condition problem. My understanding from the inspections is that the fire escapes and bathrooms have already been made, and there are some electrical improvements that they need to make, but nothing that’s preventing them from opening.”

Kerry Ann McQuade, Receptionist for Stone Coast Properties “I get calls about that all the time, but it’s dormant. We don’t have tenants; it needs to have a lot of money to renovate it. The building here is commercial space that we have–that’s just locked up and not being used.”

Perry Glidden, Stone Coast Properties Building Engineer “It needs a lot of renovation–bathrooms, alarm systems, life-safety systems. People don’t look at the building and see anything but the theater, but they don’t know it’s 100,000 square feet of space that needs to be worked on. Someday the State Theatre will rise again. But it has to do with the economy and the City of Portland. They don’t offer us a lot of incentive. It’s expensive. We’re not talking hundreds of dollars, we’re talking hundreds of thousands of dollars. I can’t give an exact amount; it all depends–do you want the Pinto version or the Cadillac version? Either way, we’re not interested in leasing anything that’s not 100 percent up to code. Money’s always an issue, but we’ll get there. “

Grant Wilson, Jr., Stone Coast Properties “I haven’t had much to do with the State since I signed my lease for the theater over to Chris Morgan in 2005. The fire department and licensing at the city level have been helpful.”

New York Times reporter David Rohde reveals his feelings about captivity in Afghanistan and inspiration from his Maine roots.

by Donna Stuart

On June 19, 2009, New York Times reporter David Rohde and Tahir Luddin, the Afghan journalist serving as  his translator, escaped from the Taliban in Pakistan. It was 7 months, 9 days after they, along with theirAfghan driver, Asad Mangal, had been kidnapped and just 9 months, 13 days after Rohde had married his wife, Kristen, at St. Brendan’s Chapel in Biddeford Pool.

During this interval, the Times and the international media had kept quiet about the kidnapping out of concern for the three men’s safety while the newspaper, the U.S. government, and the captives’ families tried to negotiate their release. No ransom was ever paid, no rescue mission mounted. While their captors slept after a mentally exhausting checkah (a Pakistani version of parcheesi)  marathon–shades of the Epic of Gilgamesh–with the captives, Rohde and Luddin simply slipped over a wall under cover of a rattling swamp cooler and walked to the safety of a nearby Pakistani military base, with only barking dogs taking note of their anticlimactic departure.

Rohde was part of the Times team that won a Pulitzer for its 2008 coverage of Afghanistan and Pakistan. It was his second Pulitzer–and his second kidnapping. The first was in Bosnia in 1995 when, working for the Christian Science Monitor, Rohde played a pivotal role in exposing the ethnic cleansing of Muslims. He was released after 10 days, thanks to the efforts of his family, his editors, and American diplomats, most notably Richard Holbrooke, now the Obama Administration’s special representative for Afghanistan and Pakistan. In the aftermath, Rohde published a book about the massacre, Endgame: The Betrayal and Fall of Srebrenica, Europe’s Worst Massacre Since World War II, which one reviewer called “journalism at its committed best–painstaking, compassionate, full of telling detail, and rigorous in its judgments.”

Rohde spent his formative years in Maine, graduating from Fryeburg Academy before attending Bates College for two years, then transferring to Brown University, where he graduated with a major in East Asian history. He tells us he’s loved Maine holidays in the past, so it’s easy to wonder if he’s up here with us now.

But what even he must still be wondering is, what elements of his psychological makeup inspired him to court acute journalistic and personal danger a second time around? And what has he learned about himself and our Starbucks culture that seems to demand such risks from him and his colleagues?

In “Casting the Inevitable David Rohde Movie,” BlackBook Magazine’s Ben Barna says the obvious choice to play you is George Clooney, but says that you’re “kinda nerdy,” so he’d cast Casey Affleck, 20 pounds thinner and wearing glasses. He sees the British actor who played the lead hijacker in United 93, Khalid Abdalla, as Tahir Luddin and Naomi Watts as your wife. Do you agree–or do you have other choices?

If there’s a movie that will thoughtfully teach people more about the Taliban, Afghanistan, and Pakistan, and why 885 American soldiers have died there, that’s a movie worth making.

After returning home around Labor Day, there were signs put up along Route 1 [as part of the Ogunquit-to-Portland Run for the Fallen] with photographs of [59] soldiers with ties to Maine who’d all died fighting in Afghanistan or Iraq. It’s much more dangerous for soldiers and much more difficult for their families. So many American and Afghan soldiers are risking their lives right now in Afghanistan.

Some people turn away from war and devastation. You’ve walked towards it. What’s the draw?

I wouldn’t say I have an unusual desire to walk toward those kinds of things. I enjoy journalism and exposing the truth. That is, I think, a by-product of growing up in Maine as a teenager, where part of the culture is being a straight shooter and of [having] the focus on others, rather than on yourself.

Why expose the truths of Bosnia and Afghanistan rather than those of, say, rural Maine?

In Bosnia, I was a young journalist covering the leading international story at the time. There was media attention, but there didn’t seem to be much international will to stop the abuses and war crimes going on.

[As for Afghanistan,] I was in New York on September 11, went down to the Twin Towers after the planes hit, and ran after they collapsed. I was eager to follow that story after the attack.

What was it like to be the first outside reporter to come upon the Sre-brenica massacre scene?

The most gratifying stories I’ve ever done were about Bosnia and helping to expose the mass executions in Srebrenica. To see the Serbian leader, Radovan Karadžić, now before a war crimes tribunal is amazing.

While you were held captive, first in Afghanistan and then in remote Pakistan, you weren’t locked in a cell. Instead, you were with your captors constantly, even when they watched hours of what were essentially snuff videos. Did that situation, between the threats and “boundless hatred of the U.S.” voiced by the commanders on one hand and the occasional moments of levity with your guards on the other, seem like a form of psychological torture?

I was treated well physically but frustrated by the kidnapping and the irrational demands [our captors] made [for example, a $25 million ransom from the New York Times]. My two Afghan friends and colleagues were in much more danger than I was. Most disturbing was how much more hostility the Taliban [directed] toward Afghans who work with Americans than toward myself as an American. Since 2001,  roughly five times as many Afghans and Pakistanis have died fighting the Taliban as Americans. The Taliban see any moderate Afghans and Pakistanis helping Americans as traitors. There was a sense throughout that our translator and driver would be killed before I would be, so they were under much more strain.

So, was it worth it in the pursuit of journalistic excellence?

Dangerous situations don’t necessarily make better stories. I regret this kidnapping. I’ve tried to take calculated risks, and this kidnapping was a disaster. I did research on [the Taliban commander I was going to interview]; he’d given interviews to two other foreign journalists. After seeing the published reports of rising support for the Taliban in Afghanistan, I was trying to get perspective to better understand how the American effort had gone so wrong [from a source] I thought was a moderate Afghan who’d turned against the U.S.-backed government created in 2001.

While you were captive, did you think about Maine?

I thought about high school in Fryeburg…about hiking in Baxter State Park with my father…about getting married in Biddeford Pool. I thought about watching Maine Mariners and Portland Pirates games with my dad in Cumberland County Civic Center. Maine was the place I thought of most while in captivity.

Did Maine ever come up in discussions with your captors?

I told them I was from a small village in America, a town that doesn’t sell alcohol, to explain there were religious people in America. [The Taliban has] a very warped perception of people in the U.S. as all amoral, rich hedonists. I talked about how the people love their families, are hardworking, and respect God. I wasn’t exaggerating or trying to lie about what Maine is like; I was telling them…that their stereotypes about the U.S. aren’t true.

You escaped June 19. Why did the Times wait until recent weeks to publish your account of what happened?

I didn’t do anything until Asad was released–five weeks after I escaped, on July 27. That was my main focus.

Do you think that direct, immediate reporting cuts into aesthetic distance?

I’m a reporter, not an artist. I’m just trying to lay out, as much as possible, facts and balanced descriptions of events, so I’m trying to keep it as precise as I can. It’s not a question of crafting a work of art; I saw it and still see it as writing news stories and just trying to convey information.

I might have remembered more detail [if I’d been able to keep notes while I was kidnapped], but I don’t think there’s a difference in how I wrote the story because of the delay. There were some incidents I remembered vividly, and some things that were less clear–those I left out.

You were in Afghanistan because you were working on a book. Had you begun to write it?

I’d written the first couple of chapters. I’m only now beginning to look at the book [again] and figuring out how I’ll write it and how the kidnapping will change it.

Your teacher at Fryeburg Academy, John Atwood, says you don’t like to be the center of the story. Has all of this been difficult for you?

Nobody from Maine likes to be the center of the story!

Tell us about those fast times at Fryeburg.

It was one of the happiest times of my life. Fryeburg is a very special town with very special, warm, and welcoming people. I think the diversity of the student body sparked my interest in travel.

What do you like to do when you come back to Maine?

Walk on a beach with my wife. Go to Pirates and Sea Dogs games with my father. Visit aunts and uncles around the state.

What’s next for you?

My days as a war correspondent are over. I hope to do some other form of journalism–I don’t know what. I do want to work to set up guidelines and training for reporters and editors on how to avoid the mistakes I made, how to prevent a kidnapping from happening, and then if it does happen, how to handle it, both for the journalist and for the family. [I’ll be working with] the Dart Center [for Journalism & Trauma] at the Columbia University Graduate School of Journalism and the Committee to Protect Journalists. It would be me, my wife, and members of my family trying to help them. It would not just be from my experience, but talking to other journalists who’ve been kidnapped.

…What’s happening in Afghanistan is serious, and I’m very lucky to have survived. It’s not a movie opportunity. I hope my story [doesn’t] read that way.

James Craig

Portland’s new police chief is 3,000 miles from southern California, his home of 28 years, and staring down the barrel of his first Maine winter. “I am concerned about the climate, not having gone through a good Maine winter,” jokes Chief James Craig. “That could be a deciding factor.”

It’s unlikely that anything like snow, ice, sleet, or hail is going to deter the 52-year-old Craig. Certainly the money didn’t. He’s taken a significant pay cut, from the $170,000 he made as a captain in the Los Angeles Police Department to $91,000, but he says, “There is a good, supportive community here. I know together we can make a difference.”

Since you took office, has the situation with respect to crime, the community, and your department been what you anticipated?

Just before I took office, I became aware of the fragile relations between the police and some of the Sudanese. The second day after I arrived, I met with [the late] Angelo Okot [chairman of the Sudanese Community Association] to talk about the kind of things we could work on together to bridge the gap.

Since then, I’ve met with different groups within the African community. It was clear that many of the immigrants—not just the Sudanese—were not familiar with policing in the U.S. We’ve discussed launching a community police academy with a focus on new citizens. We see this as an opportunity to educate the immigrant community about why the police do certain things, with the sole purpose of building better relationships.

What do you see as your department’s top priorities?

First, we’d like to build and further develop our community policing.

Next would be launching our youth initiatives. We’ve had success with a Portland Police Explorer Post [which trains young cadets who are considering a career in law enforcement]. We’re looking at boosting the size of that program. Through the Police Athletic League, we’ll start youth basketball camps and games this fall and winter.

As part of my restructuring process, we’ll be establishing community sectors, each of which will be headed by a Senior Lead Officer (SLO) who’ll be the contact for that community. The purpose is to be able to work more closely with the community to solve concerns and enhance quality-of-life issues.

Some people are convinced Portland is a more violent city than it was a few decades ago. What do you hope to do about it?

Talking to long-time residents and police officers who’ve worked here for many years, I’ve heard that the crime picture has changed and that they’ve seen more incidents of violence and drug dealing. The drug issue is a concern for me. We’re also seeing a slight increase in what we think is gang activity. It’s not to a point where we should live in fear, but it’s certainly a concern. We’re gathering intelligence and working very hard to identify those involved.

Let me say candidly that the old Portland Police Department—and I put the emphasis on old—wasn’t very good about working closely with other agencies. The department has done a phenomenal job in addressing crime, but we could have done a better job of maintaining strong relations with our state and federal partners. That was one or two administrations ago. I’m working on rebuilding those relationships so we can work together as one team instead of separate fiefdoms. The other officers in the department are some of the best and are eager to work on these relationships, so the situation was not a reflection on the rank and file. It was something the old guard embraced, being very territorial.

How is your administration changing the way it addresses crime in the city?

I’ve launched CompStat [computer statistics]. It provides ways of analyzing crimes and seeing trends, and it gives you a benchmark and the ability to hold your management team accountable. Since we launched CompStat in August, we’ve seen a steady reduction in crime—and it’s not even fully up and running. Overall, crime is down 9 percent and, year to date, violent crime is down 13 percent.

But when I’m out there meeting with community groups, I hear, “We still feel that there are areas that aren’t safe.” While it’s nice to be able to say we’ve seen the reduction in crime, what’s equally important is the fear of crime. I can sit here and talk about crime reduction, but if you don’t feel safer, I haven’t done my job. –By Donna Stuart

Patricia Quinn

Patricia Quinn has a need for speed.

By Donna Stuart
It’s a little past 8 a.m., and two Downeaster trains have already left Portland, speeding at 79 miles per hour across Scarborough marsh on their way to Boston’s North Station…

Patricia Quinn has been at her desk for more than an hour.

Quinn is executive director of Northern New England Passenger Rail Authority, which coordinates passenger rail service for the State of Maine. When, with a staff of just four, you’re overseeing a budget of $15 million a year and a business that transports half a million people annually in three states over two railroads, the hours are long.

“There are days I wonder, ‘How in God’s name did I ever end up in this job?’” says the modest 45-year-old. “I went from making flyers for the pottery shop at the Naval Submarine Base in Groton, Connecticut, to being out in a field looking at how many spikes are in a piece of rail–but I love it.”

Quinn moved to Maine in 1987, first working for an escorted tour business in northern Maine, then as the general manager and division manager for Erin Co., a chain-hotel firm with interests including Holiday Inns. By 2000, she was burnt out and looking for something new. That October, she was hired to plan the Downeaster’s inaugural run.

“I’d never even ridden on a train,” she confides, but she says her business background kicked in. “When you think of it, it wasn’t that different from what I’d been doing. In a hotel, you have an inventory of rooms. On a train, it’s an inventory of seats.” When, after a few months, the inaugural run was delayed, Quinn was hired full-time as NNEPRA’s development, marketing, and public relations director. In 2005, she became the executive director. Two years later, she was the recipient of the Amtrak President’s Award for Excellence.

For Quinn, the key to Downeaster’s success has been making the connections with partners, passengers, and railfans. “The service isn’t successful because of me or NNEPRA. It’s because of our partnerships with the host railroad Pan Am; the MBTA [Massachusetts Bay Transit Authority, which runs greater Boston’s public transportation system]; Amtrak; our food service partner, Epicurean Feast; Trainriders/NorthEast, whose members serve as volunteer hosts on the train…the list goes on and on. Even though we don’t cover our costs through the fare box, we try to make the services streamlined and customer-focused. If the customers are happy, a lot of things fall into place.”

What Quinn hopes will fall into place soon is Stimulus Fund money to pay for improvements to the Portland to Boston line, as well as expansion north to Brunswick. The goal will be to make the trip to Boston from Portland in just 2 hours and 10 minutes–15 minutes less than the trip currently takes–and add two more round trips a day.”

This will also “allow us to make improvements to the track. The more sidings we add where trains can pass each other, the more flexibility and capacity we have. We won’t be increasing the top speed–the maximum speed will still be 79 miles per hour–but there are places we’ll make improvements, so instead of going 60 miles per hour, we’ll be able to go 75 or 79,” she explains. That’s still slower than the fastest train in North America, Amtrak’s Acela Express, which runs between Boston and Washington, D.C., with a top speed of 135 to 150 mph.

Quinn says expanding service to Brunswick–with a stop in Freeport, the number one tourism destination in the state–is critical to turning the train into a tourism engine for the region. “Every time you connect the dots, it gives you that much more opportunity. Now, 86 percent of travelers who ride the Downeaster are headed to Boston. It’s been a bit of a challenge to get people to use the train to come north to Maine. The State of Maine owns the Brunswick to Rockland branch and spent about $40 million to rehab it several years ago so it can support passenger rail. Right now the Maine Eastern Railroad runs an excursion service between Brunswick and Rockland. Making the connection to Brunswick also provides an additional 15 miles to Rockland.” The result: Riders will be able to go from Boston to Rockland, possibly as early as October 2011.

Quinn, who lives in Scarborough, finally did get her first train ride one month before the Downeaster’s inaugural run. Does she take the train when she vacations? “I really don’t [go on vacation]. I’m a homebody. I have two teenagers and a wonderful man in my life. I love to garden, cook and run.”

As if running the most successful train in the Amtrak system weren’t enough.

Gordon Ramsay

Yes, but is it a Maine lobster?

Interview by Colin S. Sargent

Gordon Ramsay, dressed in a white chef’s jacket and dark trousers, leans down next to the head chef of the Black Pearl in New York City to have a peek at the struggling lobster shack’s inventory.

“They’re all from Maine?” he asks.

“These are, uh…Maine, some from Canada…”

“These look like Canadian lobsters to me,” says Ramsay.

“Yeah, these are Canadian.”

Ramsay looks over at his harried colleague, fresh from a disappointing dinner service, who has been forced into cost-cutting measures by the restaurant owners he doesn’t believe in.

“So the Canadian lobsters–they’re always a lot cheaper. I use the Canadian lobsters for raviolis and tagliatelles and spaghetti. They’re not Maine lobsters.”

Ramsay, star of Fox’s Kitchen Nightmares and Hell’s Kitchen, as well as British television station Channel 4’s The F Word and Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares, has been awarded 16 Michelin stars and has created successful restaurants around the world, including Restaurant Gordon Ramsay at Royal Hospital Road in London and Gordon Ramsay at The London in New York City. A vocal advocate of fresh ingredients and local sourcing, Ramsay needs to confront one of the Black Pearl’s owners on the mislabeling.

“You told me about the passion for Maine lobster. Are you aware that the lobsters in your fridge are Canadian?” Ramsay stands with his arms folded, disgust beginning to well up in him like the lava under Vesuvius.

“Same waters, North Atlantic waters.”

“You’re telling me now that Canadian lobster, half the price of Maine lobster, has the same taste and flavor? There’s a big difference. I can’t get Maine lobsters!”

“That’s right, so they get them from Ca–”

Ramsay interrupts. “I’m using Canadian lobsters!”

The owner is back on his heels. “That’s right, that’s what they d–”

“But I don’t advertise them as Maine.”

“Tell me, is it a different animal?” the owner answers.

Ramsay is incredulous. “Maine…is a  Canadian lobster for you?”

“Homarus Americanus–same animal, right?”

Ramsay shakes his head. “Holy f#¢&.”

“I’m asking you a question.”

Ramsay slows his voice, as if he’s speaking to a child. “What you’re trying to dictate to me is that you’re selling Maine lobster. They’re not from Maine.”

“Well, it comes from the same vendors.”

“Holy f#¢&.” Gordon draws out the epithet before he explodes, “The award-winning Maine lobster roll…is Canadian!”

We’re always delighted to speak to anyone whose admiration for Maine lobster matches ours. We got a chance to catch Gordon Ramsay in London, in between managing his 6 currently running television shows (not counting specials) and his 25 restaurants.

In Series Two, Episode Four of American Kitchen Nightmares, you visited the Black Pearl and had a spirited conversation with one of the owners, in which we were very pleased to see you share an appreciation for the magic of a Maine lobster worthy of a Mainer. For you, what’s so special about it?

Maine has a great reputation for lobster. Even though the lobster is in the same family as the Canadian lobster, there is something special about getting them from Maine. They are locally sourced and helping to maintain a tradition within the state.

While we Mainers like to think we’d always be able to tell the difference, is there a particular characteristic that tips you off to when you’re being served counterfeit Maine lobster?

Both the Canadian and Maine lobster are in the same family–they are the same animal–but the most obvious difference is the size and quality of the meat.

Nobody would really take a New York Strip when they’d ordered veal either, and that’s the same animal as well. Why would someone use Canadian lobster in restaurant-scale operations?

The price of the lobster varies with the seasons. Most suppliers will substitute with Canadian lobsters when there is a shortage of Maine lobster. During December and January, few lobsters come out of Maine, and there are more available from Canada.

How often have you suspected you might be getting Canadian lobster dressed as Maine?

It is a common practice, as it can be difficult to tell the difference. Using a good supplier that you have a good working relationship with probably helps prevent this!

As a chef who’s clearly shown how passionate he is about real food and real ingredients, what’s your opinion of food fraud? Does it make a difference if the customer never knows?

Of course! When a customer orders a meal, they expect what they see on the menu.  Substituting an ingredient or using a lower-end product is not an option. I use the best ingredients wherever available–it is the basis to a great meal.

We understand you were in Maine for three months in the not-too-distant past. What was the best meal you had in a Maine restaurant while you were here?

It was dinner at a restaurant called One Dock at the Kennebunkport Inn.

Oh, that must have been very recently, since they’ve only had the new menu and the name “One Dock” since the end of June 2009. What were you doing here?

I’d surf, as I love Maine’s coastline. It’s stunning.

Particularly at Gooch’s Beach. What do you think of the lobster advocates who claim it’s morally wrong to put a live lobster into a boiling pot?

Putting a lobster straight into boiling water is one of the fastest and more humane ways of killing it. This may not seem right to some people.

Some ‘lobster virgins’ can be afraid of the appearance of, and the experience of, eating a lobster. Do you have any recommendations for helping them past this?

There are many different ways to cook and eat lobster. Maybe at first not showing them the whole body, encouraging them to help you prepare them, and gradually introducing them to the legs and claws. Avoid the green stuff!

Since I’ve got this opportunity, I’ve got to ask this question. What New England meal would you recommend to cook for a hot date?

You can’t go wrong with a clam bake–with lobster, clams, mussels, and corn on the cob.

Sounds like it would go great with beer and conversation. We’ve seen so many variants on the lobster roll, including lemon juice and curry. Have you got a personal twist on the famous Maine sandwich you’d be willing to share with us?

It has to be simple! Lobster, mayo, celery on grilled hot dog roll with butter…

And the lobster has to be from Maine.

Colin S. Sargent has a Master’s in history and has lived south of London–where he caught the cooking bug–as well as south of Portland. He is continuing his studies toward a Ph.D. at Northeastern University and recently returned from China, where he furthered his exploration of regional cuisine.

Mary Pols

Accidentally on Purpose in Maine

By Donna Stuart

Many women might be reluctant to tell even their closest friends about a one-night stand. Brunswick native Mary Pols not only confessed to family and friends, she wrote a memoir about it: Accidentally on Purpose: A One-Night Stand, My Unplanned Parenthood, and Loving the Best Mistake I Ever Made.

Even before it was published, she sold the story to television. Accidentally on Purpose, starring Jenna Elfman, premiered in September on CBS in the highly coveted time slot between How I Met Your Mother and Two and a Half Men.

Pols and her child’s father opted not to watch the series opener on September 21; instead, they went out for a quiet dinner. A week earlier, she’d been at the taping of the sixth episode. “Even though I prepared myself, watching the show was very, very weird, like something out of The Player [the Robert Altman film] or a Woody Allen movie.”

Pols sees more points of difference than similarities between the show’s main character, Billie, and herself. “She has an apartment that looks pretty nice to me, with an extra room she can turn into a nursery. I didn’t hear her stress about money, but that was really on my mind. It looks like she’s going to have a more active dating life than I did, or than I do. She doesn’t seem at this point to be too concerned with the state of journalism; I no longer have a job at a newspaper. The only similarity is that she–both the character and Jenna, the actress–likes to make people laugh, and that’s me.”

Pols does approve of the casting. She’s blogged, “I liked [Elfman] on Dharma & Greg. I think she’s a gifted comedian, especially when it comes to the physical stuff, and when I met her in person, she was beautiful, graceful, and sweet.”

But Pols doesn’t like the show’s portrayal of Billie as a ‘cougar.’ “I find the whole cougar thing gross, and I want no part of it. I did say to the people at CBS that I hoped they wouldn’t play up the whole cougar thing, because I think society is already over it. It’s now considered a turn-off.”

When Pols got pregnant, she was 39, living in northern California and working as an entertainment writer for the Contra-Costa Times. As one of six siblings born to a Bowdoin College philosophy professor and a stay-at-home mom, Pols had always wanted a baby—but as part of a life with a soul mate. Instead, after 11 months of celibacy and an evening of too much wine, she had a one-night stand with Matt, an unemployed twenty-nine-year-old she’d just met.

Three weeks later, she found she was pregnant and, realizing how much she wanted to keep the baby, told Matt.

“I asked him how he felt about babies, and he replied, ‘Well, everyone wants a child.’” If Matt wasn’t the man of her dreams or life- partner material, at least he’d be devoted to their child.

Over the ensuing months, Pols struggled to balance working, paying the bills, an unemployed baby father (who lived with her sporadically), and the needs of her family in Maine. Her mother, suffering from dementia, was in a nursing home; her father, in failing health, had an Irish Catholic take on out-of-wedlock pregnancies. With humor, startling honesty, and an acerbic wit, Pols recounts in her memoir the story of her pregnancy, son Dolan’s birth, the death of both her parents, and how she and Matt found their way as co-parents.

Birthing the 272-page book wasn’t easy. “My editor, Lee Boudreaux at HarperCollins, is wonderful, but she was a brutal taskmaster. I thought because I was writing a book, I could go on and on. She kept slashing, tightening, and making it move at a really fast pace. There were many, many drafts. She’d read a draft and send me a 12-page, single-spaced letter about what I needed to do.”

For Pols, Maine was always the heart of the story. “There were points in the draft that had me spending so much time going back and forth to Maine. My editor said, ‘This book is supposed to be set in California…’ How do you explain to anyone, if you’re from Maine, how important it is to you? I’ve lived on the West Coast for 20 years, but I’m still a Mainer. The most important story in my life takes place as much in Maine as in California. I had to fight to keep Maine, but it ended up being a slightly smaller part of the book.”

Pols returns each summer to stay at the Boathouse, the waterfront cottage in Phippsburg that her family has rented each summer since she was a child. “We’re already signed up for next year. It’s really trite, but when I come back, I have to eat lobster as much as possible and in as many forms as possible. To get them, we go down to Small Point Fish near Sebasco Lodge [now Sebasco Harbor Resort], where I worked when I was in college. I don’t know if I’ve ever had a better job than when I was a waitress at the Lodge. The other thing I have to do is get in the water. All year I dream of swimming in Maine. I feel like I’m not really myself until I’m in that water. The one line I can remember from sixth-grade poetry is, ‘I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,’ and that’s how I feel.”

Five-year-old Dolan loves it, too. “He’s filled with joy when he’s in Maine. If it weren’t for keeping him close to his father and my work as a movie critic, I’d move back to Maine in a heartbeat.” This past summer, she and Dolan also spent time in Boston and Brunswick. “We went to Fenway. It was amazing—and a little embarrassing because he rooted for the A’s. The A’s lost, and he cried.”

When the conversation turns to Brunswick, it’s clear that Bowdoin was a powerful influence in Pols’s life. “[Growing up], to be so close to a place that is so rich in culture, to be a little girl playing on the steps of the Museum of Art, running in and out of the building and knowing those galleries almost as well as I knew my own house… to be taken to theater at the college, which my mother did from the time we were very young, or to be taken to movies–the fact that it was all there was really essential. I love seeing my nieces and nephews having the
same experience.”

Pols isn’t sure that Maine will be part of the sitcom. “CBS bought it, and they get to do with it what they want. It’s too bad.” Initially Pols wasn’t sure she wanted to sell the television rights. “I considered not selling it—it’s not really that much money. And what if it’s really embarrassing? I’m not a TV snob by any means. I’m devoted to Mad Men and Project Runway. We did some negotiating. Then I asked Ann Packer, who wrote The Dive from Clausen’s Pier, which was turned into a Lifetime movie. She told me selling to television was like found money; you’ve already done the work, so go for it–and I did.”

Selling the television rights and her first book hasn’t made her wealthy. Pols still lives in the same rented duplex she moved into while pregnant. “In March 2008, I took a buy-out from the newspaper and then freelanced. The first six months was really slow. I was just being rejected or not having e-mails even returned.” The money she received has given her the opportunity to focus on writing a novel.

“I have two novels started; I’m waiting to see which takes hold. The one I’m more excited about is set in Maine at a resort; the inspiration is Sebasco. I’ve read so many books set in Maine that are written by people who don’t really know it. The other is set in Italy. It’s important when you’re writing to put yourself in a place geographically that makes you happy.”

Alter Ego

Jenna Elfman

is not a Mainer, but she plays one on TV–in her new  CBS prime time comedy Accidentally on Purpose.

Your show navigates through some interesting territory–“about a single woman, Billie, who finds herself ‘accidentally’ pregnant after a one-night stand” with a 22-year-old man, Zack. It’s full of snappy humor alternating with flashes of real self-awareness. Is that what draws you to the character?

Yes. The situation of what’s happening in this girl’s life–what her friends say, what her reactions are, her ex-boyfriend’s reactions (he’s also her present boss)–and the great scripts are what make this show different. There are big changes in Billie’s life–she’s pregnant, with all this craziness around her, yet she somehow finds a way for her confidence, self-doubt, and sarcasm to coexist. She is able to find joy.

What’s it like knowing the real-life version of your character, Billie, is alive somewhere–in this case in Maine?

Because I’ve gotten to meet Mary Pols [the Phippsburg resident who is the author of the bestselling memoir Accidentally on Purpose, on which the show is based], I’m completely in love with her. She’s so charming and witty and funny and smart, and I think she knows that in order to make this show a comedy we have to take her life situation and run with it a bit to keep it a comedy venue week to week. So there’s always some differences, and her Billie is different from this one.

Meeting Pols must have been like looking through a looking glass–seeing someone who resembles your character as you interpret her but is necessarily different.

She came and visited us on set several episodes in. I’d asked Claudia Lonow, our writer and executive producer, if she thought I should read the book before we started filming. She said, “Let’s read it later, and create what we’re going to create now.” I think that was a good thing. Now that I know ‘where the funny is’ [in terms of the show], I’ve loved reading the book for additional layers of who Billie is. I’m fascinated with how she can express her self-doubt in such a confident way.

You’re from Los Angeles, and originally the book had a split setting of California and Maine. It makes sense to set the show in California–arguably the un-Maine–to simplify things. But do you think of Maine as the alternate world of setting that almost happened, waving to you outside the window?

Reading the book, I just remember thinking, that’s where her family lives. I’m reading it from such a point of view of the show. Wow, we don’t have Maine as part of this. I don’t have heavy family as part of this. This is Mary-specific. This is particular to her. Maine’s so different from San Francisco. The juxtaposition of her family, what that meant to her, is such a different road running beside the San Francisco craziness.

Maybe when Billie needs to be alone for a while she could clear her head in a place like Maine, even if it’s somewhere in California. Practically speaking, where would that be?

(Laughs) We can’t get away from our characters, or there wouldn’t be any story. She’d have to bring her sister and her best friend with her. Maybe…Marin County?

Have you ever been to Maine before?

I toured with Z.Z. Top as a dancer in 1994. I remember just getting out and walking in Portland. We were in a tour bus. I remember walking over a beautiful bridge over a river and really taking the whole feeling of it in. I remember there was this bridge.

You’re really the center of this show. What’s that feeling like, where everyone is keying on the expression on your face after something’s just happened?

It’s more in this show than anything I had in Dharma & Greg. I love reacting. It’s letting whatever happens really land on you and absorbing it. Letting some big moment really land on you and finding an unexpected reaction.

There’s a neat tone in the show that’s rapid-fire-funny and then thoughtful as you transparently examine your own motives.

Even when she gets herself in a pickle, there’s a part of Billie that likes the life experience of the pickle and the craziness. She likes mocking herself. She’s slightly enjoying the craziness because it’s living–it buffers a total neurotic introversion.

What are your secret vices on set? Where do you get your energy?

Usually it’s going to my dressing room and seeing my two-and-a-half-year-old boy, who fills me up with such joy. And I’m usually sipping some kind of tea throughout the show.

When will Billie have her baby?

She’ll have the baby in the season finale.

How do you approach that as an actress?

I am pregnant with my second baby right now. My due date is in March.

Ah, the Stanislavski method! Our readers wouldn’t let us get away without asking you to describe the difference between Billie and Dharma.

Dharma was a brand new Volkswagen with a flower on it, cute, perky, and fun, while Billie is a cool, vintage Mercedes convertible, with style and classic lines and a great curve. You know those small, white Mercedes convertibles from the 1950s that look as though they’re about to start speaking French or something? Billie has experienced life, she loves life, and she doesn’t take it too seriously but is aware of her situation. Because she’s a movie critic, she has this strange exterior view of her experience while exploring her feelings on the inside, too.

Again, some interesting gray areas, made more dramatic by a selective relationship where one moment she can love what she needs to love about Zack and then another moment dismiss him outright.

These scripts have been created with such dimension. You don’t feel one way about someone. You feel multiple ways about someone. I love that he stayed in my life. I love that he stayed with me. But he’s a 22-year-old male. That universe is not her universe. When that whole 22-year-old boy thing comes up, she’s humored by it but feels no need to take it seriously.

If you could pick an actress from the last 100 years–someone who can be accessible or even callous when the situation requires it–to play your part just so you could have the fun of watching her, who would you choose?

Now don’t make it seem like I’m comparing myself to them, because I’m not! But what I’d like to see is…sort of a cross between Rosalind Russell and Katharine Hepburn.  –Interview by Colin Sargent

Emmett Beliveau

Few can keep up with President Obama. It’s Emmett Beliveau’s job to stay ahead of him.

By Donna Stuart

There’s a picture of Emmett Beliveau sitting in President Jimmy Carter’s lap at his maternal grandparents’ house in Wayne, Maine, on February 19, 1978. Just a toddler, Beliveau was already in the thick of political life. Today, the 32-year-old son of former state representative and Democratic gubernatorial candidate Severin Beliveau is the director of advance for President Barack Obama. Having served in that capacity throughout Obama’s candidacy, he’s now responsible for planning and organizing every major event that takes place outside the White House, including the president’s foreign and domestic trips. Since January, Beliveau has traveled ahead of presidential visits to France, Germany, Italy, Canada, the U.K., Czech Republic, Iraq, Russia, and Egypt. His next trip will likely be to Oslo, Norway, in advance of the president’s acceptance of the Nobel Peace Prize on December 10.

“I grew up around politics in Maine and spent a lot of time at the capitol up and down the corridors of the third floor, so it was something I was exposed to a very young age. My first exposure to advance was when President Clinton and Senator Mitchell visited Deering Oaks Park [in 1993]. Seeing a couple of guys, whom I now understand were advance people, organizing the logistics of the event from the crowd control to the visuals and the program, I said, “I think I want to do that someday.” In the summer of 1996, when President Clinton came back to Maine, I was involved as a volunteer helping the advance team and really caught the bug; after graduating from college, I went on to do it full-time for the Gore campaign.

“I met [then Senator] Obama in the fall of 2006. I was practicing law in D.C. and had taken off a couple of weeks from work to go down to Tennessee to volunteer on Harold Ford’s Senate race. Sen. Obama came to Nashville for a day to campaign for Congressman Ford. I put together the senator’s visit and traveled around with him that day. I was wildly impressed with his message and with him as a person and believed almost instantly that if he decided to run for president, as was speculated at the time, I very much wanted to be part of that campaign. I told him that that day. Several months later, in February 2007, I found myself in Springfield, Illinois, planning his campaign announcement event.

“In the summer of 2008, when I organized the rally in Berlin [attended by a crowd of 250,000], I made two trips to Germany, one by myself to scout out different locations, and then back with a large advance team two weeks prior to when the president came through. We worked with the German officials to organize what was the only public event of the president’s foreign tour that summer. The German people and the officials in Berlin were incredibly gracious hosts, and we couldn’t have done it without them.

“I think the best moment for me was on election night, watching the president-elect of the United States take the stage in Grant Park in downtown Chicago. My daughter was one day old and in the hospital–10 days early and about 10 blocks down the street, at Prentice Women’s Hospital. The plan all along was to have her in Chicago, but Maeve didn’t want to miss the action, so she showed up a day before election day.

“The inauguration was a wonderful American celebration and an incredibly powerful experience for me, for my family, and for my three-month-old baby girl. I was lucky to work with such an incredible team who put that inaugural together.

“Obviously the inauguration is more than just the moment when the president takes the oath of office. There were days of events and of service and celebration around that time. At the Presidential Inaugural Committee, or PIC, which I led, we had a staff of about 425 that started from a dead stop about a week after election day. It took about seven or eight weeks to ramp up, to organize the inaugural events, and then to ramp back down.

“Essentially I now have a desk job in D.C., where I’m managing the advance staff. I don’t travel with the president. We work anywhere from two months to six days ahead of him.”

Asked if there’s a picture of the next generation of Beliveaus sitting on the lap of the president, the proud father replies, “No, Maeve hasn’t met the president yet. We’re looking to do that maybe around her first birthday, if the president is available.”

Deborah Rice

Staring down the chemical lobby

By Donna Stuart

Fall 2009 is hot time for Dr. Deborah Rice. The 62-year-old toxicologist, who works for the Maine CDC, was just about to take a long-planned vacation in Iceland when, out of the blue, she won $100,000.

No, it wasn’t the lottery.

The Heinz Foundation chose Dr. Rice as a Heinz Award recipient for her research into neurotoxicology leading to the conclusion  that “early exposure to major environmental pollutants–lead, methylmercury, and PCBs–can plant the seeds for later deficits in cognitive, sensory, and motor function.”

The award citation continues, “Dr. Rice’s work has also led to national and state policies that regulate exposure to developmental toxicants.”

Dr. Rice’s studies of the flame-retardant chemical, decaBDE “resulted in the 2007 ban of decaBDE by the Maine legislature” which led to other states following suit.

But decaBDE did not go gentle into that good night.

After Dr. Rice, a former risk assessor at the Environmental Protection Agency in Washington, testified before the Maine Legislature about decaBDE in 2007 as an independent scientist, she chaired a national five-member peer review panel on the flame retardant, with comments forwarded to the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency for review.

Then the American Chemistry Council, the lobbying group for the chemical industry, wrote a letter to the EPA, asking for her removal from the panel, charging conflict of interest because of her earlier testimony in Maine. The EPA complied, striking her comments from the record, even though it was common to have scientists with ties to industry on such panels.

“Initially it was embarrassing,” says Rice. “Then I realized it was just the industry being the industry. The fact that a Bush appointee would agree with the industry wasn’t surprising. Then I began to enjoy watching what was going on.”

The controversy escalated into a whirlwind of accusations of undue industry influence within EPA, leading Congress to investigate and changes to be made.

“It didn’t make any difference at all whether my comments were there or not. It made no difference that I was chairing the session; all that meant was that I was running the meeting. My comments [held no more weight] anyone else’s.”

So why the kerfluffle?

“The only reason I could come up with was that other states had bills in to ban deca. The industry really wanted to keep deca in production [because] it’s very lucrative. I think their real agenda was to discredit me so they could go to Illinois or any other state and say, ‘You shouldn’t pay any attention to what happened in Maine because the EPA says Rice is a biased scientist.’”

When asked if winning the Heinz Foundation award feels like payback, Rice bursts into laughter. “It’s really the icing on the cake. It was worth it! When the head of the foundation called and said it was an award and it’s $100,000, my first question was: ‘What?’ My second question was, ‘Why?!’ I was just stunned. I feel so honored to be the recipient of this award because I don’t feel like I ever set out to change the world. I guess what I have going for me is that I don’t hesitate to speak my mind, and I don’t back down.”

Carolyn Gage

Greetings from Lesbos, Maine

By Donna Stuart

Who are we, and where have we come from? For some of us, looking at our immediate family provides all the answers we need. Lesbian playwright and activist Carolyn Gage has been searching for her own history for more than 20 years.

“When I realized I was a lesbian, which happened in my early thirties, that was the most compelling story because that was the one that had been kept from me. I really needed to go find my people, and when I found them, it was so fascinating, and our history is so amazing; those were the stories I wanted to tell on the stage,” says the 57-year-old. She tells some of those stories in Greetings from Lesbos, Maine: A Theatrical Journey through Maine’s Lesbian History. Written and directed by Gage and Meghan Brodie, an instructor in USM’s theater department, the production includes stories of famous lesbians who were from Maine or spent time here. Audiences meet Sarah Orne Jewett, author Natalie Barney, poet Renée Vivien, and novelist Marguerite Yourcenar. Gage takes the stage as Cornelia ‘Fly Rod’ Crosby, the first Maine hunting guide, in The Parmachene Belle. The solo show is taken from the collection of plays that won Gage the 2009 Lambda Literary Award for the best LGBT [lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender] drama in the U.S.

“When I started out, a lot of people felt very threatened going to LGBT theater, and most of my audience was lesbian,” explains Gage, a graduate of Portland State University in Oregon. “When I moved to Portland [Maine] and started producing my work, all kinds of folks came to see the shows. There’s a sense here that anything that goes on in Portland is of interest to Portlanders. It’s like, ‘We may not know much about this, we may even be a bit nervous about it, but you’re a neighbor, and we’re going to come.’”

The Dartmouth Street resident has high praise for Portland’s theater community. “As a freelance playwright, occasional producer, and sometime touring artist, I have had so many opportunities. The St. Lawrence Art Center has co-sponsored me, and Mike Levine with Acorn Productions has been hugely supportive.

“When lesbians, who don’t normally grow up in lesbian families, go to find their history, we just keep running into all these locked doors,” she continues. “People say, ‘Oh, of course if she had a husband, she couldn’t be…,’ or ‘There’s no proof she was a lesbian. Just because Fly Rod wore men’s clothes and looked kind of masculine doesn’t mean anything.’ But I think Fly Rod was in my community, and I want to know her history and how she negotiated that identity in 1890-something.

“One thing about Mainers is that we’re incredibly proud of our history. Let’s put the lesbian history on the table because we have such famous women here. If your daughter came home and told you she was a lesbian, and the first thing you thought of was Sarah Jewett or Fly Rod Crosby, that’s a very different thing than if you’re immediately thinking of something pornographic or what you might have heard in church about burning in hell forever.

“During this recent campaign [to repeal marriage equality in Maine], the outsiders, the haters [have been] trying to scare people, saying that if gay marriage is legal in Maine, your children will be taught about homosexuality at a really young age. They’re trying to scare parents, using lies. At this point, all children are assumed to be heterosexual, and everything they learn, even at three years old, is about heterosexuality, like the prince and the princess. And they’re learning it’s the entire world and that anything else is weird or wrong. What we’re doing to the children right now is way scarier than the kind of open examples when same sex people can get married.

“If you sit down to a table full of lesbians my age and ask, ‘Who ever thought of killing yourself?’ most hands will go up. I wrote a play, Ugly Ducklings, about girls in a Maine summer camp and the impact of homophobia on girls. Homophobia is very frightening, especially for children–people calling you queer, and sometimes you’re so young you don’t know what it means, but you know [what they’re saying is that] there’s something really wrong with you. The play deals with the fact that children can and do take their own lives as a result of gay-baiting. Statistically, something like 40 percent of child suicides are related to LGBT issues–and then there’s homelessness, because they’re not able to stay in their homes. To me, it’s high time that kind of childhood went away.”

Arthur Fournier

Tugs of war

By Donna Stuart

The stories flow easily from Arthur Fournier, who’s like a Borscht Belt comedian with a well-rehearsed schtick. He knows how to tell tales and how to move the goods. He’s owned and operated tugboat and barge businesses from New York to Belfast and a short line railroad in Cleveland, and he’s been a tugboat captain and senior docking pilot in Portland Harbor. By turns, the 78-year-old is garrulous, pugnacious, and even charming…but after agreeing to be interviewed, he cautions, “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.”

Are tugboat captains known for circumspection and manners?

Granted, the U.S. Coast Guard did give Fournier the Meritorious Public Service Award in May 2001, saying, “His actions have set a standard of excellence in ship-handling and port safety over a period of significant tanker traffic growth in Portland.” But it’s not always been awards or his skills in ship-handling that have put Fournier’s name in the headlines during his 63-year-long career. Most recently it’s been for a family-splitting legal action that pits Fournier against his son, Brian.

The oldest of Fournier’s three living sons (eldest son Billy died in a barge accident in 1985), Brian Fournier used to work with his father. In 2001, the senior Fournier says he sold his Portland tugboat assets for $9 million to McAllister Towing, which operates Portland Tugboat, LLC. He emphasizes that McAllister didn’t buy his business. “It was never the sale of the company. They bought the tugboat assets, which included four tugboats, a barge, and a pick-up truck. That’s what they bought.” At the same time, Brian Fournier was named president of Portland Tugboat, which took over guiding the majority of ship traffic in and out of Portland Harbor.

Earlier this summer, several years after a no-compete clause expired, Arthur and his two younger sons, Patrick and Doug, steamed back into Portland Harbor and began offering lower rates for moving and docking ships. On July 31, Portland Tugboat filed suit against him alleging trademark infringement related to use of what it considers a nearly identical business name, Portland Towing and Ship Service, Inc. Fournier has filed a suit against his son, charging defamation of character for statements he says Brian made to customers. When asked if it’s distressing to be locked in a legal battle with Brian, Fournier replies shortly, “Not in the least. He decided his best interests are with McAllister. So that’s the way it is.”

Arthur Fournier never has been one to back away from a fight, and anyone who would take him on should be warned: He always carries a pistol in his pocket. “I was shot in a hold-up by three pisanos on January 22, 1972, at my office in Charlestown, Massachusetts,” he says. “Three guys were waiting for me in my office trailer, and when I come in, they started shooting. I was shot 12 times in probably 8 seconds. They didn’t know I had a permit to carry and that I will never allow myself to be taken by anybody for any reason, for any thing.” As he’s told the Maine Sunday Telegram, “I die hard.”

He details his injuries: “Three in the center of the chest, center of the belly, and lower right abdomen; three in the right leg; one in the left leg; one in the left arm; one in the left shoulder; three in the right hand; and one in the ass.” He provides photos of himself, skinny and naked except for briefs and bandages, with scars plainly visible.

He apparently is more forgiving of the men who shot him than the son who worked side-by-side with him from a young age. Fournier later encountered one of his assailants at the Massachusetts General Hospital, where they both were undergoing rehabilitation for the injuries they received in the shoot-out. For Fournier, there were no hard feelings. When a blizzard kept the assailant from getting a ride home, Fournier drove him. “It was only a fight. Let sleeping dogs lie. It was over.”

He tells the story of the shoot-out as part of what he calls his gig, a one-hour slide show on his life that he’s given to Propeller Clubs in Boston, Portland, and Providence. “I could do my comedy show right down at the Comedy Connection,” he claims unabashedly. See it, and you’ll see his scars, too. “If you see my comedy show, I have my leopard thong, and that’s how I end it.”

Through the last 20 years, Fournier has kept his South Portland residence at 1 Bay Road, with a stone patio overlooking the shipping channel and Spring Point Light, with private access to Willard Beach. While negotiating for the house early on, he says, “My real estate agent told me, ‘Now you can sit in this house and watch the boats go by,’ and I said, ‘For $850,000, I can sit in my boat and watch the houses go by.’”

Roxanne Quimby

The Burt’s Bees philanthropist drops some sweet honey in Portland

Burt’s Bees co-founder Roxanne Quimby’s deft purchase of 658 Congress Street as an artists’ residency and studio center for just $350,000 has everyone buzzing in Longfellow Square. Most recently the site of Zinnia’s Antiques–and before that a haberdashery–the three-story brick and slate Queen Anne landmark across the street from Joe’s Smoke Shop will provide an urban oasis for the downtown arts colony Quimby, 58, hopes to sustain here with the help of incentives from the city, such as a requested $100,000 ceiling on fees related to reduction of housing space.

After restoration, the structure’s Arts & Crafts interior is sure to sparkle with new studio and exhibition opportunities.

It’s yet another signal that Longfellow Square, with its new restaurants and performance spaces, is regaining its long-lost status a tony part of town.

Though 658 Congress Street isn’t quite ready for the First Friday Art Walk.

Via daughter Hannah Quimby, who directs many of Quimby Family Foundation‘s good deeds, Quimby tells us, “At this point [we] are not prepared to discuss the art program [as we] have not cleared the regulatory hurdles presented by the city of Portland. Once [we] have the green light from the city to proceed,” more specifics will emerge “…after a series of meetings with the city council.”

We can’t wait to see you turn on the green light, Roxanne.

Felicia  Knight

Knight moves

By Laura Paine

Step 1. Reconsider your career in musical theater. Step 2. As the most respected news anchor in Maine, make on-air glasses cool years before Ashleigh Banfield. Step 3. Head down to Washington for a fun career as Sen. Susan Collins’s spokesperson…just in time for 9/11. Hey, it’s all about timing.

“September 11, 2001, gave me a whole new appreciation for where I was and what I was doing. I remember a reporter in Portland asking me soon after if I was afraid to be working in Washington, specifically in the Capitol. (Security was extremely tight then, no planes were flying, there were armed soldiers on every corner near the Capitol building, outside all the Senate and House office buildings, and all federal agency buildings.) I replied something to the effect that I was not fearful and refused to live in fear because that was precisely the aim of the attacks. I added that two of the terrorists got a plane in Portland, Maine. Should people in Portland live in fear too? Everyone on Capitol Hill felt a firm resolve to keep working and remain strong. An attitude that served us very well, since a month later D.C., and specifically some Senate office buildings, were hit with the anthrax attacks.

“At the time, Sen. Collins was a senior member of the then Governmental Affairs Committee, now the Homeland Security and Governmental Affairs Committee (of which she is currently the Ranking Member). She immediately grasped the long-term effects these attacks would have on our country and our security. In the intervening years, she’s dealt with everything from co-authoring the most sweeping overhaul of the nation’s intelligence community in more than 50 years on a national scale, to securing more funding for local first responders to have the equipment they need to respond to a terrorist attack on the local level.”

Dreaming of one day returning to Maine and catching a good night’s sleep, Knight left Senator Collins’s office in March of 2003–only to accept a position as Director of Communications for the National Endowment for the Arts. No pressure.

“My first real test of being under fire happened about six months after my arrival. It was announced that we had given a grant to the La Jolla Playhouse, one of the premier incubator theatres in the country, in California, for the commissioning of a new musical, ‘loosely based on the life of Andrew Cunanan.’ Cunanan was the man who, in 1997, killed several people, including fashion designer Gianni Versace. The artistic director for La Jolla at that time was Des McAnuff – a highly respected leader in American theatre with a solid reputation.

“The play had been commissioned but not a word had yet been written. There was, however, an outcry from the right who declared that we were ‘glorifying murder and homosexuality’ (Cunanan was gay) and denunciation from the gay community that we were focusing ‘a spotlight on a gay killer.’ The story was beginning to gain traction in the conservative press–editorials in some newspapers around the country and on the web–and was beginning to get the attention of some conservative members of Congress.

“Understanding how quickly something like this can become a ‘cause’ and fuel for the high octane world of cable shouting matches, we moved on this very quickly to shut the argument down, beginning with the fact that the play hadn’t been written yet. All this vitriol for a play that didn’t exist? I did many interviews, and wrote some op-ed pieces making the point that far from glorifying the life of a troubled and dangerously delusional young man, the play was planned instead as an examination ‘of a culture obsessed with money, power, and fame…an investigation of obsession with celebrity and wealth…with unattainable desires.’ Cunanan himself wasn’t even a character in the proposed play. In one column, I argued that “artistic renderings of actual crime and violence have been the subject of art throughout history, among them the Passion and Crucifixion of Christ. From Socrates to Santayana, we have been warned about unexamined lives and condemnations of repeating the past. Artistic examinations and remembrances of the past have existed throughout civilization, whether interpreting the Spanish Inquisition, the Holocaust, or the tragic story of a sociopath who terrorized a nation.”

The play eventually was written and workshopped and got generally favorable reviews.

Then there’s the Andy Garcia story.

“While I was with the NEA, I was invited to attend a conference in California held by the President’s Committee on the Arts and Humanities. As part of the conference, Andy Garcia was going to be speaking about his Cuban heritage and a new movie he had directed [The Lost City] which was set in Cuba. Because of my journalism background, I was invited to conduct an ‘Interview with Andy Garcia’ in front of the conferees.

“I’m a huge Andy Garcia fan, so I readily accepted this. This was a crowd of major league movers and shakers. This was an assignment that I wanted to hit out of the park.

“It was a conference, and you know how boring things can get when you’re in a big room listening to panels and speakers all day, so I also wanted to bust up the routine a little.

“When it came time to begin, it was announced to the crowd that this discussion was being videotaped for the UCLA archives. So, I began by looking into the camera, out at the crowd and saying, ‘In tenth grade, my boyfriend dumped me for a cheerleader. Well, now I’m on stage with Andy Garcia, and she’s not!’ At that moment, Andy Garcia leaned over and kissed me, and the crowd roared. I really don’t remember much beyond Andy Garcia kissing me.”

What was it like, hanging out at the Kennedy Center and plumbing the mysteries of Foggy Bottom?

“My husband [Towle Tompkins, director of TV operations at Resort Sports Network] and I were there for New Year’s Eve 1999 to see Martin Guerre. It wasn’t very good, but we had a lovely time dancing in the grand foyer greeting the new millennium!

“The most fun, though, is to be in the President’s box, [where I found myself] three or four times over my ten years in D.C.” Even on nights when the president’s not there, [you still] “get the Presidential M&Ms and little bottles of champagne. No one ever eats the candy, though. They bring it home to their kids. Not having kids, I ate the candy and drank the champagne.”

For 8½ years, Knight lived “in Cleveland Park, off Connecticut Avenue on Porter Street, walking distance to the Uptown Theatre and the National Zoo. The last year and a half I lived in Southeast, on New Jersey Avenue in a brand new building about three blocks from the new Nationals’ ballpark and within easy biking distance of Eastern Market and Capitol Hill. Two great neighborhoods.

“I didn’t do much nightclubbing–but I’ll admit to having some favorite bars. In my Capitol Hill days, we frequented a place on the Hill called Bistro Bis, in the Hotel George V. Great martinis.

“I’m also a fan of Bardeo up in Cleveland Park, the bar at Oceanaire downtown. An Arts Endowment colleague and I have had some very late nights at the Oceanaire. Also, Zaytinya and Jaleo, both José Andrés restaurants. A very little known gem is the bar in the Henley Park Hotel on [926 Mass Ave. NW]. The bar at the Mayflower is cozy, as is Le Bar in the Sofitel. I also like Urbana at the Palomar Hotel. If I make this list of bars much longer, it will be incriminating. A great restaurant about 70 miles outside D.C. is The Inn at Little Washington in Washington, Virginia.”

When Knight’s tenure at the NEA ended in April of 2008 she immediately joined Collins for Senator as the Deputy Campaign Manager. After closing the campaign office at the end of November, she decided to take December off before starting on her latest adventure: opening a media consulting company, Knight Vision International.

The elephant in the living room: Why not continue working with Senator Collins? “To everything there is a season. I spent five years on the Senator’s staff six years ago, and also worked on her first re-election campaign.

“When I returned to Maine last year, it was with the idea of starting my own media-consulting firm. But I was invited to work on Senator Collins’s re-election campaign as Deputy Campaign Manager. I have great admiration for her and for her Chief of Staff, Steve Abbott, and so I joined up. I’m grateful she gave me the opportunity to be part of one of the best-executed campaigns in the country in 2008. But it was always with the understanding that after the campaign I was going to start my own firm. And now I’m enjoying this new adventure.

“You can find almost everything you want in Maine. If you want the splendor of the ocean you have it; if you want the solitude of the Maine woods you have it; if you want mountains, go climb a mountain; if you want a lake, it’s there.

“Last winter was my reintroduction to shoveling and running a snow blower. It was fine. Besides, I just told myself to be patient because a nice, long, sunny, summer was coming. Oops.”

When Knight first started studying theater, she never thought her path would change so drastically, taking her everywhere from Washington to Brussels, allowing her to interview everyone from President Clinton to the late Walter Cronkite.

Asked how her abortive pursuit of musical theater and the roles she played might relate to her life today, Knight quickly hones in on one particular experience. “Madame Armfeldt in A Little Night Music at school in New York City. I was 20 at the time, playing a 60-something former courtesan wise in the ways of power and how the world works, and who spent much of her time lamenting an overall decline in society. At that time, I didn’t really understand that world-view.

“What I brought to the role was probably little more than a dead-on impersonation of Hermione Gingold (the actress who originated the role on Broadway) Now, at 52, I’ve seen a lot of the world, spent a good deal of my adult life around powerful people, and am able to appreciate that character’s life experience, views on decorum, and overall nostalgia for the past. I relate it to my life now by appreciating the wisdom and perspective that can come only with a lifetime of varied experiences.

As they say, ‘The story doesn’t always take you where you think it’s going to,’ and I had this fabulous life and career.”

Anyone can camp when the weather is mild. It takes a special kind of Survivalista, with some scratch, to rusticate in style during the more challenging seasons here. Just because you’re in the wilderness doesn’t mean you can’t be wild.

Fantasy 1: You’re heli-dropped on the top of Mount Katahdin just so you can snowboard down on your Burton Vapor ($1,295) in your Juicy Couture Igloo Logo Boots ($195) and Loro Piana reversible (so you can hide it) coffee-dyed mink fur coat with adorable hood ($29,995)…

Fantasy 2: A huntress in the wilds of Maine, you’re fierce (Tyra will be proud). Jetting in from your place in Sag Harbor, you climb aboard a custom 1953 de Havilland Beaver float plane in Greenville and zoom across Moosehead Lake with your winning lottery ticket to bag a male specimen of alces alces near the source of the Allagash. But moose isn’t the only thing on your mind…

Fantasy 3: After screening a Resort Sports Network episode in your suite at the Hotel Concorde in Berlin, you have a eureka moment: Only Olympian Seth Wescott is good enough to teach your children how to snowboard…

Now that haute couture designer Alex Carleton [Rogue's Gallery, Abercrombie & Fitch, Ralph Lauren] is revving up classics from L.L. Bean-think jet-black boating shoes with jet-black soles -it doesn’t take a leap in the dark to understand that wilderness isn’t just about flannel socks and pork pie hats anymore. See, The WildernessTM has a press agent now. You know the recession is coming to a close when you see crusty Maine guides and trip planners repackaging themselves as wilderness concierges these days.

“We call it the Ya Ya Getaway,” says Linda J. Bortis of the Lodge at Moosehead Lake. “Groups of up to eight women enjoy a private guided tour based on their customized itinerary. We send them off with our Safari Box Breakfasts to assure an early start.” When the weary travelers return, “they’re provided wine when they get back to their four-star lodging here, fresh fruit, and our Lily Bay Spa provides Swedish hot-stone and sports-therapy massage, with individual-room treatment also available.” For dinner, there’s “‘Up North’ cuisine-buffalo meat grown on the foothills of the northern Maine woods, stuffed trout, peekytoe crab cakes, and Atlantic salmon, all specific to this region because the food is part of the experience.” While elk rut and scratch their antlers in the woods outside, “we finish the perfect experience with chick flicks.” Oops. Don’t forget the “Mooseopolitan, the signature martini we’ve trademarked,” Bortis says.

“We fly into many of the private lodges like Bradford Camps and Libby Camps up toward the Allagash, out of Ashland,” says Marcia Sullivan of Katahdin Air Service in Millinocket, purveyors of high-end, fabulous excursions to the great outdoors. “We have a very nice clientele up here. During foliage season, we fly around Mt. Katahdin and to show them the ghost trains up on Eagle Lake. You can still see the shadows of the old logging rails from the air. Our Cessna 206 is white and navy, seating five guests and the pilot.”

Your point of departure here is right on the Golden Road. “The American logging trucks go right by our office. We’re quite remote, and that’s what they’re looking for.” As for the view, “It’s absolutely breathtaking today.” When foliage is at its peak, it’s like gunshots against the green before the reflected images of leaves in the lakes explode into blazes of dizzy color. “When you fly over the mountain, it looks like a patchwork quilt. It’s absolutely incredible, breathtaking on photographic flights. We see moose and bear in the open, blueberrying. We flew the crew from the Discovery Channel when they did their big American Loggers documentary up here.”

“We have a fishing cabin that celebrities rent,” Sullivan says while keeping mum on who they are until she tosses in a red herring by saying, “Ted Williams always used to fish here. Jimmy Buffett comes a lot. He flies his own plane and stops for gas.”
So…no women, right? It’s as though a dam breaks open.

“There’s a HUGE interest among women. The Big Moose Inn across the street hosts groups of women who come here, and they usually fly with us as part of our trip.” Then there are the visiting executives, “women who are part of the Nature Conservancy.” And “have you heard of Trek America,” a European ultra group who promises their client base wilderness chic?

“Most of them have been from Germany,” Laurie Cormier of The Big Moose Inn says of her Trek America guests. “I believe it’s all internet. They fly them in and do different, unique things in select wilderness settings they couldn’t do anywhere else.” Other guests include Mona Simpson (the film version of her novel Anywhere But Here starred Susan Sarandon and Natalie Portman) and Catherine Ryan Hyde (Pay It Forward). Martha Stewart’s scooted by. Let’s see…several Victoria’s Secret models came here to whitewater raft, there’s Alan Greenspan”-hey, where would you hide if you were Alan Greenspan?

“We do ‘fly-and-dine’ to lovely remote lodges like Nahmakanta Lake Wilderness Camps,” says Sullivan of Katahdin Air Service. As in, fly in and dine for one unforgettable evening. “Celebrities usually book in groups to fly into Bradford Camps and Libby Camps. The lodges are at the ready with world-class cuisine for those roughing it: delicacies like salmon, steak, or roasts.”

“There are more women coming out here,” says Karen Sikorsky of Bradford Camps in Ashland. “My husband, Igor Sikorsky [yes, his namesake grandfather invented a little device we like to call the helicopter], and I bought this place in 1996. All of this started here in the 1890s, and we still have just eight cabins. I’ve worked to deliver the wilderness experience to other women, men, and families who come such a long way” to find something extraordinary here, like nowhere else. Overwhelmingly, women seem to be the trip planners. “Families who comes here expect a lot.”

“There’s a definite trend” toward more and more women staring down the wilderness, says Don Hibbs of Nahmakanta Camps. “Particularly winter stuff, too. Women appear to be the more active of the two sexes.”

Is it an existential encounter, something about pitching their tent under the stars? Certainly these alpha females have more than moose on their minds.

Why else would former White House press secretary Dana Perino, 37, who took over for Tony Snow in 2007, have been recently sighted up here (after being wined and dined by the Nature Conservancy)?

Then there’s Katahdin Lake Wilderness Camps, a magnet for photographers and artists. “Even more exclusive is Frederic Church Camp, privately owned, where guest painters from around the world come to channel the famous landscape painter and try to capture views of Katahdin the way he did,” Sullivan says.

“I’ve been to several places where famous artists have painted, including Collioure in France, a favorite of Picasso’s, or Georgia O’Keefe’s Ghost Ranch in New Mexico. But here’s this little rustic artist’s camp on Millinocket Lake that just takes your breath away,” says artist Evelyn Dunphy [visit evelyndunphy.com]” where “women just happen to outnumber men eight to one. You really know when people sign up for something like this that they’re game.”

But what about the cell phones, a cynic might say? The reception can’t be all that good this far north of nowhere!

“You can’t flip open a cell phone in a plane anyway, because music is going through the earphones, as well as our tour patter,” Sullivan laughs. Besides, this is sensory deprivation as luxury: “Women are here for fishing, scenic flights, lodges. We just sent a group of nine women into one of the lodges this past weekend.”

Others are picked up from New York, Boston, and north: “Portland, Augusta, and those flying directly into Bangor International. Also the seaplane base in Bangor.”

“There’s foolish money floating around everywhere,” observes Roger Currier of Currier Flying Service out of Greenville, who’s seen them come and seen them go. “All sorts of business people. It’s like they think there’s no recession. We do foliage excursions-great scenery, lots of wilderness, lots of water. Sometimes we don’t find out we’ve carried a celebrity until afterward. In town, somebody will say, ‘Do you realize who that was?’”

The mind reels. Oprah? Hillary? QE2?

One of these swells, as an afterthought, had a fish driven back to Greenville “on a limousine from Rhode Island, with no other passengers,” says taxidermist/artist/guide David Footer, “just so we could mount it.”
What, without a Mooseopolitan?

Then there’s the luxury kayaking.

“In Maine, we do some very nice bed and breakfast trips that are more luxury than roughing it,” says Jeff Cooper, Director of Fun at H2Outfitters, who lists “soap stars from New York” as some of his clients. “This has been our first year working with a small cruise ship company operated by three sisters that makes its own cruise ships with just a six and a half-foot draft, 180 feet long. We can go way up the rivers, including the Kennebec River. From these luxury ‘mother ships,’ we also launch kayaks for up to 25 passengers in scenic Somes Sound near Bar Harbor. We call this new offering Sea Lodge Adventures. The beauty of it is to head out to the outermost islands, get on the water, paddle to [an absurdly exotic, otherwise unattainable] destination, and meet the ship at the end of the road. This allows for the luxury of a hot shower, private berth, talks and presentations from the lounge” of these glamour-craft “ranging from understanding the geography to group navigation. It’s a pretty innovative approach, and we’re lucky to have finished our two maiden exploratories. We’ll be doing Maine next year like this, all summer. Cost is $1,500 for seven to eight days. There’s nothing for the customer to do but go to Portland and get on the boat.”

Who’s hot, who’s not, and who’s had the moxie not to be bought. Dark horses, IT firms, and old faithfuls crest in our list of the top 100 firms headquartered in Maine.

Commentary by Evan Livada • Data from Dun & Bradstreet

“What I find interesting are some of the names I haven’t seen before,” says Livada Securities founder Evan Livada of this year’s Maine 100, our trademarked list of the 100 top for-profit firms headquartered in the state based on total gross revenues from the previous calendar year, the result of a unique partnership of information-provider Dun & Bradstreet and Portland Magazine.

“Just look at GreenPages Tech Solutions (No. 27), with annual revenues of $100M. They’re an IT company of consultants based in Kittery. They have 300 employees, so it looks like they’re doing something good. The fact that they’ve worked their way up to this point, having been founded in 1992, is interesting to me.

A lot of the companies popping up have their little niche. Telford Group (No. 36) has just been sold, August 29, to a Milwaukee company. According to the Bangor Daily News, it started as a mom and pop charter air company in the 1980s. Now, their fleet of planes based in Bangor is pulling in $81 million. Maine is always ripe for acquisitions.”

Which brings us to the strange case of the Sargent Corporation, of Stillwater, Maine (No. 31). “They do heavy-earth work all over the country, like a smaller version of Cianbro (No. 5). The business was started in 1926 in Alton, Maine, by Herb E. Sargent with just a used dumptruck and a dream. In 1988, they sold to Razel, of Paris, France. In 1991, Herb’s grandson, Herb R. Sargent, left the firm to open up a site preparation company in Bangor, Sargent and Sargent. Fast-forward to 2005, when he bought the assets of H.E. Sargent back, from France! Today, they employ 400 people. It was a coup to sell it to the French and even more of a coup to buy it back from them.

“IDEXX (No. 3) is the greatest Maine success story in the past 20 years, even though its second-quarter sales were down [in 2009] by 5 percent. Not that it’s the only thing they make, but the swine flu kits they’re selling must be going out of there like crazy, what with the hysteria. As I’ve said in the past, because IDEXX is a Wall Street darling, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were a big acquisition by another company in the not-too-distant future. To its credit, its stock has held up pretty well the last year.

“For sentimental favorites, how about Creative Apparel (tied at No. 91 with Patriot Mutual Insurance), just outside of Augusta, with $35 million in sales? They’re a maker of ‘military chemical protective garments for military contracts.’ Fatigues? Gabardines? Figures with masks appear on their website. A company rep whispers, ‘I can’t say.’ Hey, it’s nice to see textiles appreciated in a state when all the mills have become restaurants.

“Underfoot Shoes (No. 98) is the old Eastland Shoe Company. What a blast from the past it feels like to realize they may still be making shoes in Freeport, even if they’re just shipping them out of there. Their Maine 100 figure is $33 million, employing 55, and it’s good to see another old Maine industry reasserting itself, like lumber and lobsters.

“Between the lines, you see the list is more and more a function of health care, oil companies, food service stuff-just the necessities for Mainers. It just shows you the state of the economy. Staple products are always in demand, and everybody else is looking over their shoulder to see if they can keep the staff they have, cover their health care, and compete with the rest of the world, which is going full blast.

“Another sector to admire is the Maine liquor industry-Cold River Vodka, White Rock Distributors (No. 44), and the proliferation of niche beers we have, like Allagash Brewing Co., Gritty’s, and Shipyard. It’s become a very big business, and they’re all thriving. My daughter lives a few blocks away from the Publick House in Boston, and out of 300 beers on tap, Allagash White is No. 1. They seem to be blowing all the right whistles, too, about being very green and hip, using wind power, saving the world one frosty glass at a time.”

1. L.L. Bean, $1,620,000,000
3 Campus Dr., Freeport, 04033. 552-3028.
Employees: 5,700. Christopher McCormick, president.

2. Fairchild Semiconductor International, $1,574,200,000
82 Running Hill Road, South Portland, 04106. 775-8100.
Employees: 9,771. Mark S. Thompson, chairman of the board.

3. IDEXX Laboratories, $1,024,030,000
1 IDEXX Drive, Westbrook, 04092. 556-0300.
Employees: 4,700. Jonathan W. Ayers, chairman of the board.

4. Eastern Maine Healthcare Systems $816,867,000
489 State Street, Bangor, 04401. 973-7000.
Employees: 1,119. Deborah C. Johnson, chief executive officer.

5. Cianbro Companies, $478,022,000
1 Cianbro Square, Pittsfield, 04967. 487-3311.
Employees: 2,323. Peter G. Vigue, chairman of the board.

6. Wright Express Corporation, $393,582,000
97 Darling Avenue, South Portland, 04106. 773-8171.
Employees: 703. Michael E. Dubyak, chairman of the board.

7. Central Maine Medical Center, $201,500,000
300 Main Street, Lewiston, 04240. 795-2700
Employees: 1200. Peter Chalke, president.

8. Martin’s Point Health Care, $200,806,016
331 Veranda Street, Portland, 04103. 774-5801.
Employees: 405. David Howes, president.

9. Olympia Sports, $191,048,994
5 Bradley Drive, Westbrook, 04092. 854-2794
Employees: 2000. Edward Manganello, chairman of the board.

10. Maine Employers Mutual Insurance, $181,526,803
261 Commercial Street, Portland, 04104. 791-3300.
Employees: 250. John T. Leonard, president.

11. O’Connor GMC, $158,400,000
187 Riverside Drive, Augusta, 04330. 622-3191.
Employees: 275. Randall Hutchins, president.

12. Pine State Trading, $155,300,000
8 Ellis Avenue, Augusta, 04330. 622-3741
Employees: 550. Charles F. Canning, Jr., chairman.

13. Webber Energy Fuels, $150,700,000
700 Main Street, Bangor, 04402. 942-5501.
Employees: 700. Mike Sheay, president.

14. Hancock Lumber, $150,400,000
4 Edes Falls Road, Casco, 04015. 627-4201.
Employees: 550. Kevin Hancock, president.

15. Darling’s Honda/Nissan, $136,850,646
96 Parkway South, Brewer, 04412. 992-1740.
Employees: 350. John B. Darling, president.

16. C. N. Brown, $131,300,000
1 C. N. Brown Way, South Paris, 04281. 743-9212.
Employees: 454. Jinger Duryea, president.

17. Associated Grocers of Maine, $131,100,000
1000 Brunswick Avenue, Gardiner, 04345. 582-6500.
Employees: 190. David Sleeper, chairman.

18. Camden National Corporation, $128,830,000
2 Elm Street, Camden, 04843. 236-8821.
Employees: 406. Gregory Dufour, president.

19. Henrietta Goodall Hospital, $128,000,000
25 June Street, Sanford, 04073. 490-7048.
Employees: 1000. Darlene Stromstad, president.

20. Village Car Company, $116,200,000
293 Hogan Road, Bangor, 04401. 945-9401.
Employees: 140. John E. Quirk, president.

21. Bowdoin College, $113,153,000
4100 College Station, Brunswick, 04011. 725-3000.
Employees: 600. Barry Mills, president.

22. Bangor Savings Bank, $109,321,000
99 Franklin Street, Bangor, 04401. 942-5211.
Employees: 500. James Conlon, president.

23. Diversified Communications, $108,909,000
121 Free Street, Portland, 04101. 842-5500.
Employees: 412. David H. Lowell, president.

24. R. H. Foster Energy, $104,000,000
110 Mecaw Road, Hampden, 04444. 947-5336.
Employees: 360. Robert H. Foster, president.

25. J & S Oil Company, $104,000,000
867 Western Avenue, Manchester, 04351. 622-1609.
Employees: 150. John F. Babb, chief executive officer.

26. Colby College, $101,368,000
4760 Mayflower Hill Drive, Waterville, 04901. 859-4000.
Employees: 659. Joseph F. Boulos, chairman of the board.

27. GreenPages Tech Solutions, $100,000,000
33 Badgers Island West, Kittery, 03904. 439-7310.
Employees: 150. Ron Dupler, president.

28. York Hospital, $98,546,221
15 Hospital Drive, York, 03909. 363-4321.
Employees: 535. Jud Knox, chief executive officer.

29. Hammond Lumber Company, $97,000,000
25 Mills Road, Belgrade, 04917. 495-3303.
Employees: 325. Donald C. Hammond, president.

30. Mid Coast Hospital, $90,680,357
23 Medical Center Drive, Brunswick, 04011. 729-0181.
Employees: 1000. Herbert Paris, chief executive officer.

31. Sargent Corporation, $90,000,000
101 Bennoch Road, Stillwater, 04489. 827-4435.
Employees: 400. Herbert Sargent, president.

32. Reed & Reed, $89,181,282
275 River Road, Woolwich, 04579. 443-9747.
Employees: 200. Jackson A. Parker, chief executive officer.

33. Lee Auto Mall, $85,300,000
200 Main Street, Westbrook, 04092. 856-6685.
Employees: 259. Don Lee, president.

34. Bates College, $84,471,413
2 Andrews Road, Lewiston, 04240. 786-6255.
Employees: 720. Elaine Hansen, president.

35. First Bancorp, $81,018,000
223 Main Street, Damariscotta, 04543. 563-3195.
Employees: 213. Daniel R. Daigneault, president.

36. Telford Group, $80,917,032
154 Maine Avenue, Bangor, 04401. 262-6098.
Employees: 140. Bob Ziegelaar, president.

37. Franklin Community Health Network, $80,763,152
111 Franklin Health Commons, Farmington, 04938. 778-6031.
Employees: 445. Rebecca Ryder, president.

38. Downeast Energy, $79,100,000
18 Spring Street, Brunswick, 04011. 729-9921.
Employees: 360. John Peters, president.

39. University of New England, $77,716,462
11 Hills Beach Road, Biddeford, 04005. 283-0171.
Employees: 610. Danielle N. Ripich, president.

40. Redlon & Johnson, $76,200,000
172 St. John Street, Portland, 04102. 773-4755.
Employees: 248. Thomas Mullen, chairman.

41. Radiation Oncology Associates, $74,900,000
6 East Chestnut Street, Augusta, 04330. 626-1496.
Employees: 1000. Scott Bullock, president.

42. Maine Coast Memorial Hospital, $74,507,690
50 Union Street, Ellsworth, 04605. 664-5311.
Employees: 658. Rich Malaby, chairman of the board.

43. Nyer Medical Group, $71,200,000
1292 Hammond Street, Bangor, 04401. 942-5273.
Employees: 351. Mark Dumouchel, president.

44. White Rock Distilleries, $68,300,000
21 Saratoga Street, Lewiston, 04240. 783-1433.
Employees: 205. Paul G. Coulombe, chairman.

45. Fabian Oil, $65,658,248
19 Oak Street, Oakland, 04963. 465-2000.
Employees: 40. Edward J. Fabian, president.

46. Marden’s Surplus & Salvage, $65,000,000
184 College Avenue, Waterville, 04901. 873-6111
Employees: 1000. Harold A. Marden, president.

47. Yankee Ford Sales, $60,800,000
165 Waterman Drive, South Portland, 04106. 799-5591.
Employees: 150. D. R. Arnold, president.

48. Everett J. Prescott, $60,300,000
32 Prescott Street, Gardiner, 04345. 528-1851
Employees: 275. Peter Prescott, chief executive officer.

49. Bar Harbor Bankshares, $60,026,000
82 Main Street, Bar Harbor, 04609. 288-3314.
Employees: 139. Joseph M. Murphy, president.

50. American Dreamspace, $60,000,000
1725 Main Street, Sanford, 04073. 324-6700.
Employees: 4. Brian Sullivan, president.

51. Redington-Fairview General Hospital, $58,425,817
46 Fairview Avenue, Skowhegan, 04976. 474-5121.
Employees: 500. Richard Willett, chief executive officer.

52. Kennebunk Savings Bank, $55,511,151
104 Main Street, Kennebunk, 04043. 985-4903.
Employees: 200. Joel W. Stevens, president.

53. R. H. Reny, $53,540,881
731 Route 1, Newcastle, 04553. 563-3177.
Employees: 425. Robert D. Reny, president.

54. Wright-Ryan Construction, $53,468,501
10 Danforth Street, Portland, 04101. 773-3625.
Employees: 90. John Ryan, president.

55. Maine Community College System, $53,153,422
323 State Street, Augusta, 04330. 629-4000.
Employees: 1200. John Fitzsimmons, president.

56. Charlie’s Motor Mall, $52,600,000
465 Western Avenue, Augusta, 04330. 622-7327.
Employees: 130. Charles Shuman, president.

57. Johnson & Jordan, $52,592,771
18 Mussey Road, Scarborough, 04074. 883-8345.
Employees: 260. Michael Johnson, president.

58. Rowes Special Credit, $52,110,437
91 Main Street, Westbrook, 04092. 854-2555.
Employees: 132. Wallace E. Camp Jr., president.

59. Nappi Distributors, $50,500,000
235 Presumpscot Street, Portland, 04103. 774-6341.
Employees: 165. Frank Nappi, president.

60. Mercy Hospital, $50,003,157
144 State Street, Portland, 04101. 879-3000.
Employees: 1400. Eileen F. Skinner, president.

61. BGI Eastern Traders, $50,000,000
99 Atlantic Highway, Nobleboro, 04555. 529-2113.
Employees: 20. Kerin Resh, partner.

62. M. W. Sewall & Company, $48,700,000
259 Front Street, Bath, 04530. 442-7994.
Employees: 165. Edward Sewall III, president.

63. Northern Maine Medical Center, $48,178,483
194 East Main Street, Fort Kent, 04743. 834-3155.
Employees: 550. Martin Bernstein, chief executive officer.

64. Norway Savings Bank, $47,952,000
261 Main Street, Norway, 04268. 743-7986.
Employees: 267. Robert Harmon, president.

65. Northeast Bancorp, $46,200,898
500 Canal Street, Lewiston, 04240. 786-3245.
Employees: 258. James D. Delamater, president.

66. Community Health Counseling Services, $45,830,748
42 Cedar Street, Bangor, 04401. 947-0366.
Employees: 540. Joseph H. Pickering, executive director.

67. Geiger Brothers, $45,500,000
70 Mt. Hope Avenue, Lewiston, 04240. 755-2000.
Employees: 400. Eugene G. Geiger, president/CEO.

68. Maine & Maritimes Corporation, $45,313,000
209 State Street, Presque Isle, 04769. 760-2499.
Employees: 138. Brent M. Boyles, president.

69. Stephens Memorial Hospital Association, $44,853,638
181 Main Street, Norway, 04268. 743-5933.
Employees: 380. Timothy Churchhill, president.

70. Bill Dodge Bck-Pntc-Gmc-cdillac, $44,100,000
2 Saunders Way, Westbrook, 04092. 854-3200.
Employees: 150. William Dodge, president.

71. PowerPay, $44,000,000
280 Fore Street, Portland, 04101. (877) 877-3737.
Employees: 75. Stephen P. Goodrich, president.

72. Stonewall Kitchen, $43,501,279
2 Stonewall Lane, York, 03909. 351-2713.
Employees: 400. Jonathan King, treasurer.

73. Port City Auto Auction (/Acadia Auto Auction), $42,900,000
8 Murray Road, Carmel, 04419. 941-2345
Employees: 125. E.D. Wescott, president.

74. Saco and Biddeford Savings Institution, $42,894,656
50 Industrial Park Road, Saco, 04072. 284-4591.
Employees: 106. Kevin Savage, chief executive officer.

75. Medical Care Development, $42,773,026
11 Parkwood Drive, Augusta, 04330. 622-7566.
Employees: 619. Mark Battista, president.

76. Androscoggin Bank, $42,554,539
30 Lisbon Street, Lewiston, 04240. 784-9164.
Employees: 180. Steven Closson, president.

77. Gorham Savings Bank, $42,196,000
64 Main Street, Gorham, 04038. 839-3342.
Employees: 110. Christopher Emmons, president.

78. Calais Regional Hospital, $42,000,000
24 Hospital Lane, Calais, 04619. 454-7521.
Employees: 220. Michael K. Lally, chief executive officer.

79. Maritime Energy, $40,800,000
234 Park Street, Rockland, 04841. 594-4487.
Employees: 170. John Ware, president.

80. PM Construction, $40,358,117
19 Industrial Park Road, Saco, 04072. 282-7697.
Employees: 40. Phillip Morin, chief executive officer.

81. Mount Desert Island Hospital, $40,357,450
10 Wayman Lane, Bar Harbor, 04609. 288-5081.
Employees: 310. Arthur Blank, president.

82. Saint Joseph’s College, $40,138,625
278 Whites Bridge Road, Standish, 04084. 892-6766.
Employees: 300. David B. House, president.

83. Vaughn Thibodeau & Sons, $40,000,000
1 Ammo Industrial Park, Bangor, 04401. 941-9859.
Employees: 160. Lynn Lakeman, president.

84. InterMed, $39,372,706
100 Foden Road, South Portland, 04106. 828-0361.
Employees: 370. W. R. Wright, chief executive officer.

85. The Sheridan Corporation, $37,503,597
33 Sheridan Road, Fairfield, 04937. 453-9311.
Employees: 33. Douglas L. Cutchin, president.

86. Lincoln Paper and Tissue, $37,200,000
50 Katahdin Avenue, Lincoln, 04457. 794-1030.
Employees: 400. Keith V. Scotter, member.

87. Vermont Hardware, $36,206,343
212 Canco Road, Portland, 04103. 775-5666.
Employees: 50. Kenneth Nelson, president.

88. Kennebec Savings Bank, $36,070,800
150 State Street, Augusta, 04330. 622-5801.
Employees: 75. Mark Johnston, president.

89. Biddeford Savings Bank, $35,703,000
254 Main Street, Biddeford, 04005. 284-5906.
Employees: 34. Rene Roy, chairman.

90. Consolidated Constructors and Builders, $35,622,206
65 Bradley Drive, Westbrook, 04092. 464-2626.
Employees: 200. Beth L. Sturtevant, president.

91. Patriot Mutual Insurance, $35,000,000
14 Maine Street, Brunswick, 04011. 725-1776.
Employees: 48. Lincoln Merrill, president.

91 (Tie). Creative Apparel, $35,000,000
318 Augusta Road, Morrill, 04952. 342-5830.
Employees: 300. George Rybarczyk, partner.

93. Nickerson & O’day, $34,654,241
35 Airport Road, Brewer, 04412. 989-7400.
Employees: 46. Karleton S. Ward, chief executive officer.

94. Down East Community Hospital, $34,227,824
11 Hospital Drive, Machias, 04654. 255-3356.
Employees: 220. Lynnette Haskell, chief financial officer.

95. CPM Constructors, $34,000,000
30 Bonney Street, Freeport, 04032. 865-0000.
Employees: 60. Eldon Morrison, president.

96. Group Home Foundation, $33,683,142
61 Little River Drive, Belfast, 04915. 338-2080.
Employees: 257. Harold Siefken, executive director.

97. Butler Bros. Industrial Suppliers, $33,490,748
2001 Lisbon Road, Lewiston, 04240. 784-6875.
Employees: 48. Patrick F. Butler, president.

98. Underfoot Shoes, $33,000,000
4 Meetinghouse Road, Freeport, 04032. 865-6314.
Employees: 55. James B. Klein, president.

99. Outsource Works, $32,700,000
41 Canal Street, Lewiston, 04240. 777-5701.
Employees: 800. Paul Rubin, executive director.

100. Wolfington Group, $32,400,000
254 Western Avenue, Augusta, 04330. 622-1706.
Employees: 86. Harry Wolfington, president.

Before we had Martha at Skylands, we had Julia at Blue Hill Bay.

“Julia Child’s Maine”
By Judith Gaines

She stayed in Maine periodically for more than 50 years, savoring our seafood, sampling our restaurants, and summering in her beloved family home on Mt. Desert Island. Now Julia Child (as played by Meryl Streep) returns, gracing movie houses across the state in a film made in her honor, Julie and Julia. The film tells the story of the celebrated chef and bon vivant who teaches America how to cook, and a young blogger, Julie Powell, who struggles to make every one of the 524 recipes in Child’s epic tome, Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

Julia Child died in California in 2004 at the age of 91. But the new film is reason enough to recall her life in Maine, where she once said, “Life itself is a binge.”

Julia’s base here was a home originally built in the 1940s by her brother-in-law, Charles Child, and his family, with help from her husband, Paul, Charles’s identical twin. The log cabin sat on the shores of Blue Hill Bay and grew over the next 20 years “like a game of dominoes,” according to Charles. It housed him, his wife, their three children, and Julia and Paul as often as they could come, as well as assorted guests. Julia contributed to a major addition by peeling logs and sewing window curtains.

Charles describes her in his family memoir, Roots in the Rock, as “a tall, willowy creature with dark, curly hair and blue, blue eyes, as jolly and gay as Paul was serious….She was a tough, relentless worker at whatever she undertook, immensely systematic, determined to carry through anything she began.” The date was 1947, just after her marriage to Paul, with Julia spending “her free hours every day at the stove, notebook in hand, enthusiastically reeling out miles of cookies, pots full of Boeuf Bourguignon and Tripe à la mode de Caen.”

After she passed the Cordon Bleu school in France, trained under several Parisian chefs, and started a French cooking school, Julia taught her nieces, Rachel and Erica, how to make high-style French cuisine in their rustic Maine kitchen. Rachel responded by creating a hat for Julia with “wild flowers, bed springs, wheat straw, and ribbons,” Charles writes. Later, Julia came to Maine to correct proofs for Mastering the Art of French Cooking. A photo taken then shows her sitting at a desk in a plaid shirt, pants, and topsiders, her hair in her trademark tight short curls, her gaze intently focused on the proofs. Her husband sits bare-chested at her side, also checking proofs. Through an open window with thin gauze curtains, pines rise just outside.

For a chef like Julia, who insisted on the freshest possible ingredients, Maine was a delight. The family caught pollock for her Bouillabaisse à la mode de Blue Hill Bay (which she made with the fish, potatoes, fennel, and saffron). At low tide they gathered fat purple mussels for her to make Moulles Marinères. Local lobsters became her Lobster Archduke and Butter-Poached Maine Lobster. The garden burgeoned with two kinds of sweet corn, turnips, carrots, beets, white onions, potatoes, dill, six varieties of lettuce, summer squash, radishes, and pole beans. The family also planted a small orchard with four types of apples. Raspberries, blueberries, and cranberries grew wild on their 20-acre estate.

The Childs’ land, known as “Old Point,” is a sword-shaped mass of rock and forest jutting out into the sea. Great rocky ledges sweep to the shore, and magnificent old pines somehow manage to take root in the rock. Many of the pines drip with gray-green moss, “which [gives] them the dignity of bearded druids,” Charles writes. The forest is so thick in some places, local kids make “a monkey trail” to pass from branch to branch without ever coming down from the treetops.

Old Point is separated from the rest of Mt. Desert by a low-lying bog. Here the land is so narrow that someone passing over the Childs’ soggy, barely passable road can see the sea shimmering on both sides. When the family finally finished an improved route to the cabin, Julia celebrated by making Gâteau Fourré à la Crème d’Orange, a two-layer sponge cake with orange-butter filling, covered by butter-cream icing, topped with an apricot glaze, and sprinkled with almonds.

With her husband working abroad and the demands of her own career, Julia couldn’t spend as much time in Maine as she might have wished. But she wrote often in what Charles describes as “homesick letters,” asking to be kept apprised of all the latest developments. “Tell us everything!” she writes in one of them. “What are you doing? What building? What new things has Fred (the nickname for Charles’s wife, Fredericka, an innovative cook) invented? How are the gardens?”

Three who dare to be not square.

by Caley Bryce Ostrander

Ian Anderson

You might think you know a person but there’s always something more,” says Ian Anderson, 36, who brushes off pressures to create comfy art in favor of installations that keep you up at night.

Cuddle up to Killer, for example. Underneath a phalanx of exploding black needles hides the word in type, chilling in its understatement, waiting to be discovered. “Your first impression is spikes. You can’t see where it’s written at all.” Then, almost when it’s too late, “the second impression is something different.” He was such a nice boy…

Or consider Abandon Your Ideals, clean white letters impaled by slick black quills. The message pricks both the individual and society, suggesting the barbed wires we can’t always see.

Priced “between $450 to $1,800,” his assemblages dare to provoke as well as delight, which dovetails deftly with his position as Associate Dean of Academic & Student Affairs at Maine College of Art. “I want my students to think deeply and broadly not only about art, but their place in the world.”

Anna Hepler

“It’s really frightening on one hand, but it’s also incredibly exhilarating,” says Anna Hepler, 39, of the charge she gets when she’s knocked out with her next new idea.

Like turning weather into an object of startling beauty.

Gyre is a massive, cloud-like structure that hangs downward from the ceiling of venues including the Center for Maine Contemporary Art last winter and spring.

Is it a storm, a concatenation of feminine imagery, or a Portuguese man of war?

Swept skyward in sheets of salvaged plastic and tarps woven together by hand, the diaphanous presence is illuminated by bright lights on the ceiling–with a little help from ten of Hepler’s closest friends.

“It has this really kind of round, full belly to it, a singular spirit,” the former Bowdoin art professor says, adding that Gyre is more than the object itself–it’s the animus it reflects: “The way the light dapples through the netting, it makes these ripples on the wall which make people feel as if they’re underwater. There’s a glow” that’s shared by both this parturient installation and its witnesses, “a kind of soft experience.”

So…wait a minute. The gallery visitors, including groups of children, are part of the seen (see figure in black, left), as well as the seeing?

“Oh, definitely.”

Ling-Wen Tsai

“My work is rather subtle, quiet, introspective. But behind that quiet appearance is something a bit louder. It’s subtle but strong,” says Ling-Wen Tsai, 39, of Portland. Originally from Taiwan, Ling-Wen moved to the U.S. in 1995 to pursue art and now teaches at Maine College of Art in Portland.

A multifaceted artist, Tsai has recently taken up film and performance art, most of which feature herself. Her installation Made in Taiwan, a videotaped performance, shows her bare back illuminated in darkness with a barcode projected onto it, including the words “Made in Taiwan” at the bottom.

During the performance, careful not to show her face, she speaks, “My name is Ling-Wen Tsai, and I come
from Taiwan.”

She then translates the message in Mandarin as the camera pans out on the bar code projected onto her bare body.

“My earlier work responds to my transition from Taiwan to the States. It’s about the struggle in the process of adjusting between two languages and cultures and trying to reconcile and adapt.

“In Asia, so much is about respect and community and consideration for other people. Here, we’re more expressive and individualistic. Both have their pros and cons.”

As her angle of attack evolves, Tsai’s work is accelerating into collaboration with others in her performances. “Now that I’ve been living in the U.S. for a while, my focus is shifting to something more universal.

“I started with my own personal concern,  but now I’m interested in showing the relationship of the individual to the world and what it means to be human, which is something everyone can relate to. I want to show we should all care about each other and be considerate about others as humans.”

For Tsai, visual arts is the dead-on strike to convey this idea of universality. It’s something we can all understand. “Visual art is a language no other language can express. If we could only hear what I’m seeing.”