Is Santa Claus real? Just ask him

He’s known by many names. Some call him Father Christmas; others call him St. Nicholas or Kris Kringle. But here in North America, he is best known as Santa Claus.

Just two days before Christmas, Santa made time to sit down with me for an exclusive one-on-one interview.

Although well known for his “jolly” disposition, Santa was a tad grumpy during our meeting. It’s understandable. He has a lot of pressure this time of year. Billions of boys and girls all over the world are waiting anxiously for his delivery of toys and treats.

I decided to let other people come up with the questions for this interview.

The legend of Santa Claus goes back hundreds of years. Kelley B. wants to know what you view as major changes to your mission, specifically your annual stop at the Island of Misfit toys that started in 1964?

“Well, let’s get real. In my view, that was a very recent change, and I really owe a debt of gratitude to Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for tipping me off about that place. Honestly, we are all misfits – every one of us, even me. We are all different. None of us is perfect. We are not defined by our flaws. We are defined by our capacity to love one another.”

A rare photo of Santa and Mrs. Claus at the Run of the Mill in Saco

Mark J. wants to know if Hermey the Elf is still practicing dentistry.

“Oh sure. His practice is thriving. In fact, he offers an advanced dental graduate program here at the North Pole. He’s always up my butt about the importance of flossing; as if I need another thing to worry about. (Laughs).

Celeste T. wants to know why she didn’t get an Easy Bake oven when she was a little girl.

“I get that question a lot.”

About Easy Bake ovens?

“No, silly. Lots of people wake up disappointed by something on Christmas morning. I remember when Celeste asked for that toy oven. It sort of broke my heart to see her disappointed that morning. That was a tough year for Easy Bake ovens. There was a huge demand, and unfortunately my elves just could not keep pace.

“But you know what? Today, Celeste has a wonderful oven that she uses to cook her meals and to make treats for her family and friends.

“Many people all around the world do not have an oven. In fact, many people don’t even have a home. I’m just super pleased that Celeste is still willing to be nice to other people, even though she didn’t get exactly what she wanted on one particular Christmas morning.”

 Deborah P. wants to know what kind of cookies are your favorite. She also wants to know whether she should leave carrots or sugar out for the reindeer.

“Well, she’s a very thoughtful young lady. I like all kinds of cookies. Dude, look at me. I didn’t get to be this size by licking icicles. There’s no such thing as a bad cookie, in my humble opinion.

“As for the reindeer, they prefer carrots. Carrots are rich in both calcium and Vitamin K. They promote good bone density and help with your vision, something that is very important if you’re flying all over the world at night.”

Suzanne C. wants to know more about Mrs. Claus and whether she helps you?

“There is no way I could do what I do without lots of love, help and support. Mrs. Claus and I have been married a long time. A very long time. I mean like centuries . . . you get my gist?

“Like most wives, Mrs. Claus is always willing to give advice. Over the years, I have learned that it’s best to listen to your partner. Sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is to listen when they or anyone else is speaking to you.”

Jeff R. wants to know your favorite Christmas movie.

“I like all of them, but let’s get real. Die Hard is not a Christmas movie. I suppose, my favorite Christmas movie is “It’s A Wonderful Life.” That movie really underscores the true meaning of this holiday.

“Mrs. Claus likes all those Hallmark Christmas movies. Let’s just say I’m quite grateful that we have two televisions and a Netflix subscription.”

Larry M. wants to know how you leave presents at homes without a chimney or fireplace.

“It’s magic.”

Magic? What do you mean magic?

“Listen, Jimmy Olsen. There’s a lot you don’t know about magic. Magic is real as the nose on your face. Magic is simply the proper combination of love, faith and hope.

“Imagine a world without magic. A world where every single thing has to be analyzed, studied and proven? What a sad world that would be. Childhood is often described as ‘magical’ because children are willing to believe in things they don’t necessarily understand.

“Whenever you get on a plane or whenever you get in your car, you have faith. At least enough faith that you are going to arrive at your destination. You don’t have to understand aeronautics or how an engine works. You just need faith and a bit of hope. Magic is all around us if we focus on love. If we open our hearts and our eyes, each of us can see unlimited potential in each other and in ourselves.”

Who am I? Take a look in the mirror, sonny. I am you; if you choose to be me. I am your neighbor. I am your co-worker, your classmate, your friend and your enemy.

— Santa Claus

So, I suppose you’re going to say that magic makes the reindeer able to fly or that you can visit every country in the world in just one night?

“Absolutely. Magic is a wonderful gift. Every time you smile at a stranger, you are spreading love. Every time you pet a dog or hold the door for an elderly person, you are acting out your love. Everyone – – and I mean every one of us – has the power to love. Love does not require anything. It costs nothing but is the most valuable thing in the world.”

Some people say you’re not real.

“Those people are right, but they are also wrong. I am as real as you want me to be. I don’t care if you’re four years old or 40, you can believe in me if you choose. Again, love is a choice. That’s the whole meaning of presents, a practice of showing love. You can’t buy love at the store; it lies within each of us.

“Look; I gotta run. The elves are working overtime, and I need to get ready for a very, very busy night.”

But I have so many more questions. Who are you? And why do you do this?

“Who am I? Take a look in the mirror, sonny. I am you; if you choose to be me. I am your neighbor. I am your co-worker, your classmate, your friend and your enemy.

“I am the guy you are argue with on Facebook. I am your grandfather, your favorite aunt. I am a man, and I am a woman. I am very young and very old. I am simply the personification of love. That’s why I exist.

“Why do I do this? Because I can. Because I choose to love. Because this day – no matter what you call it – no matter your religion, culture or education – – it’s all about hope. About the possibility of a new start, about the potential of unconditional love. Today is a call for us to love one another.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I need to put some fresh batteries in Rudolph’s nose. Ho, ho, ho . . . I’m almost ready to go.”

Richard Rhames: A Dying Breed, Biddeford’s last dirt farmer

Originally published in Saco Bay News

Although he wears many hats, Richard Rhames of Biddeford could probably best be described with just three words: authentic, passionate and persistent.

Rhames, 78, is a well-known commodity at City Hall. He is an outspoken member of the public, a former city councilor and a tireless member of the both the city’s Conservation Commission and Cable Television Committee.

Richard Rhames/ Seaver photo

Over the last four decades, Rhames has developed a reputation as someone who means what he says, and says what he means. He rarely pulls punches when criticizing local leaders and their policies; and he is always willing to fight even when he knows the odds are insurmountably stacked against him.

Today, Richard and wife Pat own and operate Shady Brook Farm on outer West Street. That 80-acre farm has been in Rhames’ family for three generations, and the land represents one of the last family-owned farms in the area.

Rhames, who serves as president of the Saco Valley Land Trust, laments the loss of small farms, but keeps his hands firmly on the plow in a time when farming has pretty much become a corporate enterprise.

“If farming was easy, everyone would do it,” he said with a wry grin. “Let me assure you, nothing about farming is easy.”

To the casual observer, it seems that Rhames is always willing to do things the hard way. He dismisses the notion of going along to get along.

Sticking to his principles and beliefs has cost Richard some friends and his seat at the table of local power, where he was widely considered a thorn-in-the side of the Chamber of Commerce types.

Richard was an at-large member of the Biddeford City Council when the September 11 terrorist attacks occurred. Within days, the council had decided to place miniature American flags along the council dais. There was one flag in front of each councilor.

At the beginning of the next council meeting, Rhames used his arm to move the flag to his side as he was spreading out paperwork. A fellow city councilor expressed outrage, and a reporter from the Journal Tribune wrote that Rhames had “shoved the flag away.”

The public was largely unforgiving. It was a time of hyper-patriotism and there was little tolerance for anything deemed to be “un-American.”

Rhames had already been long criticized for his questioning of U.S. policies in the Middle East, including Iraq. He was unapologetic. Just a few weeks later, Biddeford voters showed him the door.

“I never shoved the flag,” he said. “But the damage was done. The political class was not happy with me, and they gladly grabbed onto a piece of red meat.”

Rhames never stopped sharing his political views. He wrote a regular column in both the Journal Tribune and the Biddeford-Saco Courier. Much of his written work focused on labor issues, workers’ rights and conservation issues.

He is a long-time advocate for single-payer healthcare and says if the city is serious about the issue of affordable housing, the best weapon to bring to that fight is municipally-mandated rent control.

He is also a fairly well-known musician, playing rhythm guitar with two different bands throughout the area.

What got you involved in local government?

“It was the airport. Back in the ‘70s, they started pushing a plan to build a cross-wind runway. They intended to buy the George Fogg property, which was between the paved part of Granite Street Extension and the town line. That’s always been the wet dream – – the cross-wind runway.

“I started going to Planning Board meetings and council meetings. I was probably the only guy in town who had actually read the master plan.  I mean, who are we kidding? Master plan? Fuck that.  It was supposed to be a done deal. The powerful people, the people with connections; it was what they wanted.

“Because Mayor [Babe] Dutremble was pissed that some of his political friends had been moving forward behind his back, he shut it down all by himself. It was in the papers, the York County Coast Star and the Journal.

“Then about 10 years later, in the mid-1980s, it came back again, with a vengeance. The new plan was even more grandiose. It would have Biddeford become a reliever for the Portland Jetport. We were going to get the freight shipments; it would have included 60,000-pound aircraft. They dream big, here in Biddeford. The FAA loved it, you know? And they thought they had it.

“We fought it. They wanted to change the zone to Industrial. That’s back when wetlands were just dismissed as swamps. We got some other people riled up and involved, and at one of our first neighborhood meetings we came up with a name at the supper table: NOISE (Neighbors Organized In Stopping Expansion).”

You have often complained about the fact that there is so little public participation in city meetings.

“In order to know what’s going on, you got to be there all the fucking time. And you’ve got to have no life, which is ideal for me. (Laughs)

But it’s not just local issues that get you fired up.

“Yeah, well you know. If I’m pissed about something, I’m going to stand up and say something. I don’t know any other way to be. I have this bad attitude, right?

“When I was younger, I could have gone back to teaching (public school). I was no longer 1A. I didn’t have to fight the draft anymore. When I grew up, I remember watching television and all the incessant propaganda. The whole mantra: the Russians are coming; the Russians are coming. The constant beating of the drum. The propaganda. The free world.

“I grew up in the ‘60s. I mean we were all drinking from the same propaganda trough, but it was the draft that literally forced a lot of young people to start recognizing what was happening, even though I went to a little white-bread Midwest college.

“I was as unquestioning as anyone else back then, until all this shit started happening. We had access to libraries and learning opportunities. We did this bus caravan thing. We went to Midland, Michigan, the home of Dow Chemical.

“We were all white bread kids; nobody had long hair; we were wearing suits at the march and the locals hated us because we had a rally in the park (Laughs).

“But we were earnest, and we had been looking into this a little bit. Most of us had some idea about the history of southeast Asia; how we took over for France in Vietnam. There was a history there that the newspapers never reported, but we came to understand that it was really fucked up; and why would anybody want to die for that?

“But to openly resist meant costs. Most of us were banking on what we were taught since elementary school: that we had some kind of career waiting for us in regular society.”

Do you ever get tired of fighting the good fight?

“I’m pissed, and I have been pissed for a long time. I don’t find that hope is terribly motivating. You gotta be pissed. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right what we did on the grand scale.

“Even today, as much as the whole thing in Palestine is wrong, the Israelis, the Zionists, are pikers compared to the United States of America. The body count that we have rung up during my lifetime is really fucking impressive.

“Nobody talks about it, but if you want somebody killed, call us. We’ll either provide you with the weapons; better yet, we’ll do it ourselves. We’re really good at that. Spending a trillion dollars a year on the military? That’s easy.

“But if you speak up, they come after you. It’s dangerous, Randy. Why did they come after me the way they did after 9/11? Why have they come after me, including you, . . . why was I such a target? You know? This unassuming clodhopper with the big words and all that shit, you know? Why was I the target?

“Because I was willing to stand up and say this shit.”

What do you think about all the changes as Biddeford becomes a destination community?

“We were last in line. We had the incinerator [MERC]. They stopped pulping in Westbrook and that city began to gentrify almost immediately, and Westbrook isn’t placed nearly as well as we are. Against all the political odds . . . and the only reason that we got rid of the incinerator is because they wanted to leave . . . they [Casella Waste Systems] were ready to go.

“It always kills me, I guess it shouldn’t — when Alan [Casavant] expresses surprise, disbelieving; and talks about how quickly the shift started, how much things changed once we got rid of MERC. It would have happened anyway, but you had this whole Heart of Biddeford gentrifying, national advertising campaign. The whitewashing of Biddeford culture.

“We created a myth of what Biddeford is in order to entice new people to come here and exploit us, which they are doing.

“But we haven’t learned. The political class is still bending over backwards to subsidize private development.

“I keep telling them: Isn’t it time to pump the brakes a little? You don’t have to beg people to come here anymore. There’s no incinerator anymore. We’ve got all this ocean frontage, river frontage and all these old buildings from when Biddeford was the Detroit of New England.”

You are one of the most strident and vocal supporters of public access community television, even as the city slides further away from televised meetings to online forums.

“When we started with public access, there was some good stuff on the channel, but the political class was always uncomfortable. It frightened them because they couldn’t control the message.

“We used media for public education, to pull back the curtain and give information that you really couldn’t find anywhere else. It was good stuff, and I was never home.

“We were doing advocacy for ordinary people. You don’t generally find that on the airwaves. Who wants to do research to make a point? T.V. is something done to you now.”

Any thoughts on running for office again?

(Sighs) “I’m too old. My time is over. I understand how the world works. I’m not the one. I’m just not the one.”

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Alan Casavant: Interview

If you ask Alan Casavant to describe his time as Biddeford’s mayor, he’ll tell you he used the same basic approach that he used as a high school teacher for more than 35 years.

Casavant, 71, is now completely retired as both a teacher and politician. He served 12 years (six consecutive terms) as the city’s mayor, first elected to that position in 2011. He also served four terms in the Maine Legislature as a state representative and served on the Biddeford City Council for 18 years, first elected in 1975.

Alan Casavant/ Seaver photo

He was born and raised in Biddeford and graduated from Biddeford High School in 1970. Initially, he majored in psychology during his first two years of college at the University of Southern Maine, but during his junior year, he transferred to the University of Maine Orono and decided to study teaching.

As fate would have it, he was assigned to Biddeford High School in order to complete his student teaching requirement. He was then hired as a permanent substitute teacher and then became a full-time social studies teacher at his alma mater.

He also coached the Biddeford High School hockey team, leading the Tigers to a state championship and is remembered by many people as a formidable broom ball player.

Casavant became the city’s second-longest serving mayor. Only Louis “Papa” Lauzier served longer than Casavant, from 1941 to 1955 – a total of 14 years.

You didn’t want to break Mayor Lausier’s record? Just one more term?

(Laughs) “No. I never set out with the idea of serving as long as I did. In fact, I had pretty much decided that I was going to step down two years ago, but I had a friend who convinced me to serve just one more term, and it appealed to me because I felt like there was still some unfinished business to take care of.

“I’m 71 years old, and I had done it for 12 years. I don’t think anyone intended to have any one mayor serve that long, but the real trump card was losing the hearing in my left ear.”

You first ran for city council when you were just 23 years old, which means the bulk of your life has been serving the city of Biddeford as an elected leader. What drew you into local politics?

“I really enjoyed politics. The process and the players intrigued me. The psychology of it (Laughs). I enjoyed being part of the decision-making process, and having input. I used to tell my students – and it’s not to be taken egotistically – but I trusted me making the decisions more than I trusted anybody else. (Laughs)

“I felt, if I was on the outside looking in, I could give my view but that didn’t mean my viewpoint would resonate with the person I was talking to, whereas – actually being there I could listen but I could also be an active, very-active participant. I really enjoyed that.”

How has Biddeford’s political world changed over the last 50 years, going back to when you first ran for the council in the 1970s?

“It’s changed so much. I think people were more in tune with the political process back then; with what was happening at City Hall back in the ‘70s. You had little organizations all over the city, where politics were discussed, such as the Green Lantern Club on Green Street.

“There was more public input because people were more aware of what was going on back then. We had a daily paper covering everything happening in the city. The mayor was a much stronger position, but it was also more familiar. You didn’t have the nastiness, and I say that because I was always in the minority back then. There were three of us on the council in our 20s. It was always the majority against me, Dick Lambert and Billy Zuke. So many of the council votes were 8-3.  It was more friendly. We would all go out together after the meetings for a bull session at Bull’s Café.”

What motivated you to run for mayor against an incumbent (Joanne Twomey) who was widely considered as basically unbeatable?

“The casino proposal that she was supporting concerned me, but it was much more about a philosophical and process difference. During that time period, too many people were watching council meetings as entertainment. The meetings were often bombastic and confrontational.

“I just thought that I could do a better job. I had retired from teaching, so I had the time. I just believed that a lot of people were ready for a change.”

Besides wanting to change the tone of how business was conducted during council meetings, what were your other priorities?

“Well certainly, the issues surrounding the Maine Energy [Recovery Company] plant loomed very large on my screen. I thought that had to be resolved because of what I had learned and come to believe. Not only was it an economic issue and an environmental issue, it was also a psychological issue. It was as if the city had given up on itself. We had become known as “Trash Town, U.S.A.” I knew that had to change.”

Why do you think public participation in local government has declined so much?

“I’m convinced that it’s a lack of knowledge. If you look back at the ‘70s, ‘80s and ‘90s, everybody read the Journal Tribune and/or the Courier. Reporters back then would pursue the stories until the end. When David [Flood] sold the Courier and the Journal closed, there became a vacuum of legitimate news. I also think some people may feel jaded by the process because of the misinformation that abounds on social media like Facebook.”

What do you think was your greatest accomplishment as mayor?

“Recreating pride in Biddeford. It’s nothing really physical. It’s just people in Biddeford actually believe in themselves as a community again. It was as if the community had lost its mojo; the recession, the Maine Energy plant, downtown business closings – – the glass was always half empty.

“People now openly brag about living in Biddeford. I recently saw an ad from a Kennebunk hotel that pointed out they were located only five minutes from Biddeford.”

What was your biggest disappointment during your 12 years as mayor?

[Pauses] “Probably dealing with the housing issue. Trying to figure that out and recognizing that there is no easy answer. There’s no instant answer, especially since it’s a regional, statewide and even national issue.

“We really need a regional approach. There has to be a concerted effort, driven by the state.”

Do you miss being the mayor?

(Laughs) Yes and no. I can’t even watch the meetings right now. I miss the adrenaline rush of being right in the middle of everything. I don’t want to meddle, which is really difficult for me to do. (Laughs) It’s really hard to do something for 12 years and then just stop, suddenly being out of the loop and not knowing exactly what’s going on – – just stopping cold turkey. It’s a little strange.

“There is also relief. When I was mayor, I’d spend almost an hour every morning and every night responding to e-mails. Now I maybe get four e-mails a day.” (Laughs)

As a politician, do you see social media as helpful?

“I call it anti-social media. Most of it is very disparaging and accusatory. It took me about a week or two as mayor to decide that I wasn’t going to read most of it. Otherwise, I’d see things that I didn’t say or do, and it got so frustrating. It’s so often just a rumor mill.”

What do you see as challenges on Biddeford’s horizon?

“Well, obviously the housing issue is going to dominate our conversations for a long time, and we’ll need to tackle that situation; but we also are looking at lots of other major budgetary issues, including staffing. How do we retain and attract professional employees? People want services, but that cost money. You can’t have it all.

“I also worry that our economy is slowing a bit in the downtown. The downtown really defines who we are as a community, and it’s important for our overall economy.”

Your political adversaries blame you for pushing so hard for a municipal parking garage.

“The reality is that we actually need at least two parking garages. The next one needs to be near the corner of Main and Alfred streets. It’s interesting to me that in so many other cities, whether it’s Westbrook or Portland or Auburn, there is virtually no resistance to parking garages.”

You describe your role as mayor as simply an extension of your time as a high school teacher.

“It’s the same skill set and the same techniques. It was about repeating, repeating and repeating information so that the kids could get it; it was about connecting the dots so that they could understand it; and it was also about forming relationships and helping them feel good about themselves.

“It’s never just one person leading the city. You really need a team approach, it’s like a quilt with several different patches. It’s rewarding, sometimes frustrating but if you have the right people around you — if you can build a team with lots of different perspectives — then you can do almost anything.”

Originally published in Saco Bay News

Interview: Michael Cantara

A retired judge, district attorney, state commissioner and former mayor from Biddeford reflects on his career and the changes in his community.

Hollywood movies often rely on stereotypes. Lawyers are frequently depicted as corrupt and self-serving. The district attorneys in those movies are not much better, using their power as glorified crime fighters for political gain. Mayors are routinely portrayed as bumbling, narcissistic egomaniacs; and judges wield their power with a rigid temperament and periodic fits of rage.

Michael Cantara/ Seaver photo

Michael Cantara of Biddeford has served in all four of those roles, but he is the exact opposite of those Hollywood stereotypes. Instead, Cantara is well-known throughout southern Maine as a man of principle, restraint, intellect and compassion.

Among many other awards and accomplishments, Cantara was inducted into the Maine Franco-American Hall of Fame and also inducted into the Biddeford Hall of Fame in 2022.

Cantara, 70, was adopted as an infant from the St. Andre Home in Biddeford by Jean Paul and Laurette Cantara. He and his two sisters were raised in a very modest home on Granite Street Extension. His father worked at the Saco Lowell machine shops. His mother worked at the Pepperell textile mill and later as a waitress at the Nutshell Restaurant in Biddeford.

He attended parochial schools, including St. Andre’s and later St. Louis High School, which closed just before his senior year. Thus, he graduated from Biddeford High School in 1971 before attending Colby College with the idea of becoming a pediatrician.

You planned on becoming a doctor but ended up retiring as a judge. A lot of things must have happened between those two bookends.

“Oh yes, they certainly did.” (Laughs) “I wasn’t exactly a clear career thinker when I went to school. I majored in French with a minor in biology. But my dream of being a pediatrician floundered on the shoals of organic chemistry. (Laughs) So, I reset the dial and decided to become a teacher.

“In my senior year of college, I was nominated for a Fulbright Teaching Scholarship. So, I got this wonderful gift of teaching in a French high school in Normandy, near the small town of Rouen, where Joan of Arc was burned at the stake.

“I taught American culture, history and language at a vocational school. My students were adolescent French boys from the local neighborhood. They were so receptive to the ideas I was teaching because at that time all things American were considered pretty cool.”

You returned to the United States and ended up going to law school.

“I had wanted to teach French on the college level, but was intrigued by political science and chose the mayoral election in Paris as the topic for my doctoral thesis. At that time, there was quite a bit of upheaval on the city’s political landscape.

“There was so much happening in the early 1970s. In general terms, it was a time of upheaval when young people were being encouraged to stand up for what they believed; to be a part of the social change that was happening all over the world.

“I wanted to go back to Maine, and the options for teaching French were practically non-existent, and I was exploring opportunities for public service. So, I enrolled at the University of Maine Law School.”

You were paying close attention to politics on the national, state and even local level, at a time when Maine’s own Senator Edmund Muskie was derailed from his presidential campaign because he allegedly teared up during a press conference.

“Yes, men – – especially back then — were not supposed to cry. I was very inspired by Senator Muskie and his dedication to public service. As you know he was the architect of the Clean Water Act. Without that federal legislation, which was vitally important for Maine, we wouldn’t be talking about the Riverwalk in Biddeford today had it not been for Ed Muskie’s leadership.”

“In fact, Senator Muskie gave the commencement address at my high school graduation, which was held at Thornton Academy because Biddeford did not have enough space.”

You were drawn to the Democrat Party and today remain as a party stalwart.

“I was very much influenced by my parents. Both my mother and father read the paper every day, and they were both Democrats who understood the importance of voting and paying attention to what was happening. Democrats were very pro-union.

“My uncle Henry, however, was anti-union. He worked at S.D Warren and was very much a company man. Regardless, my father was always very calm when talking to my uncle about the importance of labor unions.

“My father would listen patiently and spoke in a measured way, but always remained committed to his beliefs. I learned a lot from my father.”

You hung out your law practice shingle on a Crescent Street office without much money in your hand.

(Laughs) “Actually no money. My law partner Jim Boone and I were able to secure the lease by offering sweat equity. We would paint the building and sand the floors in exchange for the first few months’ rent.”

And then you decided to get into politics.

“What was I thinking? (Laughs) I decided to run for the Legislature in the early 1980s. At that time, I was living on State Street. And the occupant of that House seat in the Legislature was Lucien (Babe) Dutremble.

“I don’t know what possessed me, but I had the crazy idea of challenging Mr. Dutremble – one of the most respected and adored men in the city – in the Democratic primary. And, of course, throughout the campaign he couldn’t have been any kinder to me.

“What was so strange and incredible to me is that I lost only by 16 or 18 votes. I can’t remember exactly, but it was slim enough to invoke the city charter’s requirement for a recount, which was presided over by Luc Angers, the city clerk at the time. They were all paper ballots back then and the recount took place at the police department. The result didn’t change, but I thought that was probably the end on my political career.

“But then a couple years later, I was asked by Mayor [Robert] Farley to serve on the planning board, even though I was previously on the [William] Pombriant ticket who ran against Mr. Farley in the primary. I ended up serving almost four years on the planning board, and so I had a ringside seat to some of the issues affecting Biddeford: Affordable Housing, Land Use and Habitat Protection.

“Not much later, Gene Libby, who was the district attorney, asked me if I would join his office as an assistant district attorney. I enjoyed that work and was covering all three district courts, which were then located in Springvale, Biddeford and Kittery.”

And then you decided to run for mayor.

“Yes, and that was back when local elections were partisan, so there were primaries and a longer campaign season. There was no city manager. The mayor ran the city’s day-to-day operations, much different than it is today.”

Why did you only serve for one term?

“Because the seat for the district attorney was opening up. It was an open seat, and I was looking forward to the challenge.”

Bonnie (Belanger) Pothier told me that you practically hounded her to run for the mayor’s seat to replace you. She jokes that she just finally caved to your pressure.

(Laughs) “I knew that she was going to be a great mayor, and she proved me right. I didn’t always agree with her, but I had tremendous respect for her. She had a lot of uphill battles to fight, but she was a remarkable leader.”

While you were serving as district attorney, Governor John Baldacci appointed you as Maine Public Safety Commissioner for four years, and then during his second term, he nominated you to serve as a district court judge in York County.

“Yes. I was among five people nominated to fill new positions created in order to address significant backlogs of cases and to free up more judges throughout Maine to serve the newly-created business docket.”

You served as a judge for 12 years and retired in 2019. Do you miss it?

“I very much miss the people I worked with. I had the privilege of working with exceptional people; the clerks, the magistrates and the marshals. But the weight of some of the decisions a judge has to make – I don’t miss that particular kind of stress.

“It can be very challenging. You can provide a legal answer to a problem, but you’re not providing a life solution. There’s so much poverty – – financial poverty, health poverty, educational deficits and mental health issues, not to mention chronic unemployment.

“As a judge, you are witness to all of it and sometimes feel so powerless to change any of it.”

You are a true son of Biddeford. What challenges do you see facing the city today?

“I have been a citizen of Biddeford for most of my 70 years. Without question, we must address the issue of homelessness. Yes, it is a financially expensive and complicated issue, but we have an ethical obligation; a moral obligation to do more than just talk about the issue.

“I was taught that we are all children of God. I don’t want to let my brother or sister freeze to death tonight. We are living in 21st Century America, and I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

“It is an issue of dignity, and it is not insurmountable. We just need the political will to make it happen.”

From the humblest of beginnings, you went on to become a teacher, an attorney, a mayor, a district attorney, a state commissioner and then a judge. If they were alive, do you think your parents would believe how much you have been able to accomplish?

“I don’t know, but I do know that I learned life’s most important lessons from my parents, including the importance of service to your community; to volunteer for your school, your church.

“I certainly hope that I lived up to their expectations. I hope that I have lived a good life. I think that’s the most important thing.”

Originally published in Saco Bay News

Bonnie Pothier: Interview

Bonita Pothier/ Seaver photo

Bonnie Pothier has been breaking barriers since before breaking barriers was a thing. She was the first woman elected as mayor in Biddeford, but she also had to break a lot of other barriers and overcome many other challenges before then.

Whether as a school teacher, a downtown business owner or even as a member of the local Rotary club, Pothier has always been willing to swim upstream, letting nothing get in her way.

 Born and raised in Biddeford, Pothier’s high school class was the first to graduate from Biddeford High School after St. Louis High School was closed in 1971. Bonita Pothier was the middle child of a large family that included her older sisters Charlene, twins Donna and Mona and two younger brothers John and Chuck. Pothier graduated from the University of Maine Farmington, earning a bachelor’s degree in education.

Today, she is one of five regional representatives for U.S. Senator Angus King, Jr., working in the Biddeford office that serves all of York County, a position she has held since King was first elected as senator in 2012. Recently, she announced that she will be retiring in just a few weeks.

“I have been working every summer since I was 11 years old, babysitting,” she laughed. “I finally decided that I wanted to just relax and enjoy the summer for once.”

Initially, it wasn’t your idea to run for mayor in 1989, was it?

“No, it wasn’t. (Laughs) My husband and I were just having dinner with some friends, including Mayor Mike Cantara. Mike said he would not be seeking another term because he wanted to run for the District Attorney seat. So, we all started talking about who would be a good fit to run for mayor. Mike looked over at me, and said you should run. I almost spilled my drink, and I burst out laughing. I was sure he was kidding. The room got quiet. Even my ex-husband thought it was a good idea. I was not at all convinced.

“Michael (Cantara) stopped by my house every night, working to convince me. At the time, I was the president of the chamber of commerce but I had no real political experience. I had a downtown business and young kids. I kept telling him I was too busy, but he persisted.

“I don’t think the city is ready to have a woman as its mayor,” I told him. “You’re putting your money on the wrong horse. Finally, I gave in. I told him I’ll run but you’re going to be sorry.”

You had a decisive win in the election, but your problems were just starting.

“Oh you bet. (Laughs) There were a lot of people who were very uncomfortable with the concept of a woman in power. Also, I was the first Franco-American to be become president of the chamber, so it wasn’t just my gender that bothered a lot people. When I marched in my first La Kermesse parade as mayor, I brought my children along to march with me.

“Over the next few days, there were lots of angry letters to the editor published in the Journal [Tribune]. People said it wasn’t appropriate for the mayor to be walking in the parade with her children. Others criticized my hairstyle.

“All that aside, being the mayor of Biddeford was one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. It was a fascinating experience.”

But a patriarchal sentiment extended beyond City Hall, right?

“Oh yes, I remember trying to join the Biddeford Rotary Club and [Richard] Dick Martin said there will be women in the Rotary Club over my dead body. That’s when the Saco Bay Rotary Club was formed. Dick and I came to a very good place of mutual respect. We worked closely together on the design of the new elementary school, MERC and the sewer treatment plant. He was an engineer by trade and he was appointed to the council when Tiny Frechette died.”

You were criticized for trying to work in a “man’s world” and how could you know anything about culverts and road repairs.

“It was, I think, a pivotal time for our city. A lot of people simply couldn’t understand why I wanted to do it, that I should just stay home, mind my own business and take care of my children. Back then, there was no city manager and people had a lot of doubts about department heads reporting to a woman.”

Back then, you were dealing with issues surrounding the MERC trash incinerator, needed sewer upgrades and an exodus of downtown merchants as the mills began to close. What do you think of Biddeford today?

“When I look around today, it’s so satisfying to see the vibrancy that is returning to our community. I believe things are always cyclical, but this is what I knew we would eventually become. I’m old enough to remember what it was like to be downtown in the 1960s. Honestly, the sidewalks were full of people shopping or going out to eat. You had a hard time walking from place to place because of the crowds.”

But you also saw the city’s downtown core begin to crumble in the 1980s.

“It was sad to watch so many things disappear. I remember when I wanted to open my business on Main Street in the early 1980s, so many people said I was crazy to be making an investment downtown. It was like we had all but given up on our downtown. The mills were closing and people began shopping at malls.”

Becoming mayor at that time, with a national recession and jobs leaving the area, what things do you consider were hallmarks of your one term as mayor?

“There were a lot of things, but one really just jumps out at me. Back then, there was no development west of the Turnpike intersection. The council had the foresight and vision to contemplate that area as a commercial growth district, and we went ahead and decided to extend the sewer and water lines there. Without that, you would have never seen all the development that has happened there since.”

How did you end up working for Senator King?

“You’re not going to believe this, but again it was nothing I ever contemplated or pursued. I was visiting a friend at the hospital and Senator King was there visiting the same person. I had known him for a long time. We just started chatting. He seemed interested by my experience as a senior manager at Key Bank, my time with the Chamber and other stuff. He actually pitched me the job, telling me you’ll never be bored working for me. Truer words have never been spoken (Laughs).

As a senate staff person, what’s your perspective on our national landscape?

“I feel like the tone of our political discourse has deteriorated. We have relaxed so many norms, so many people no longer practice good manners in public. The language is  . . . well, shocking. There’s so much anger and distrust out there.”

What do you think is driving that anger?

“I think people are afraid, but nobody wants to admit they are afraid. We’ve given ourselves permission to just be constantly angry. It seems more acceptable to be angry than afraid. I think people want to be heard. And that’s what I admire most about Senator King. Despite what some people think, he really listens to people, even when they are being critical of him. He really goes the extra mile.”

The mayor’s seat in Biddeford is opening up this year. Want to run for your old job?

“Are you kidding me? (Laughs). No. Absolutely not. I want to spend more time with my grandchildren and go to the beach.”

What would be your advice to the next mayor?

“What you do can have lasting impressions long after you leave public office. It’s important for all of us, I think, to consider our ethics and to be careful about what message you want to send. Your words matter. I would also tell them to try to bridge the divide that is developing between older and newer residents. I am very concerned about gentrification and the way we are moving forward.

“I think what is happening downtown is fantastic. But we also have to be mindful. While we have many more young people discovering Biddeford and moving here into the old mill buildings, you don’t see families moving into those units. And I don’t think a community can thrive without families.”

Originally published on Saco Bay News

Ryan Fecteau: Spotlight Interview

Although he majored in political science and eventually became the Speaker of the Maine House of Representatives, Ryan Fecteau’s political journey had a rather innocuous and humble beginning.

Fecteau, 30, said he first became interested in politics when he was appointed as a student representative to the Biddeford School Committee nearly 15 years ago. In 2020, he became the youngest person to be named as Speaker of the House since 1842. He is the first Biddeford representative to hold that post and the first openly gay person to be named Speaker.

“I think I was picked because I was sort of quiet and reserved,” Fecteau laughed, recalling his appointment by former school superintendent Sarah Jane Poli. “I think Sarah Jane thought I would not make waves; unlike [some other students.]”

Fecteau was 16, and a junior at Biddeford High School. He wasn’t even old enough to vote, but he was admittedly intrigued by the political process. Some two years later, he decided to seek a seat on the Biddeford Charter Commission.

“There were certainly a lot of skeptics who wondered about this new kid and what he was trying to prove,” Fecteau said, pointing out that the commission was chaired by one of the city’s most well-known politicians. “I was only 19, and I think some people wondered about my motivations.”

From there, even though he was still a full-time student at Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., Fecteau decided that he wanted to run for an opening seat in the Maine House of Representatives. “To this day, I have no idea what possessed me to do it,” he said. “But in my gut, I felt a lot of passion, and I really thought that young people should have a voice at the table.”

State Rep. Paulette Beaudoin was actually Fecteau’s next-door neighbor, and she was unable to run for re-election because of term limits. She was 82 years old when Fecteau announced in the summer of 2013 that he would be seeking her seat. He was 21. “Yeah, you could say it was quite a contrast,” he laughed.

Another Democrat also wanted to take over Beaudoin’s seat. Former newspaper publisher and downtown property owner David Flood threw his hat into the ring for the nomination. Fecteau won the nomination, 493-263. He says he won his race the old-fashioned way.

“I knocked on a lot of doors and met with a lot of people,” he recalled. “Because of school, I was doing a lot of early campaigning in January. That’s a big advantage actually because it’s really cold outside and people invite you into their homes.”

We caught up with Fecteau recently to discuss his time in the Legislature and his thoughts about the future of Biddeford and the state of Maine.

If you’re knocking on doors in January, you have to be pretty motivated. Something must have been driving you.

“When I think back, I really believe my main motivation was what I saw happening among my peers. So many young people just didn’t see a future for themselves in Maine. They were basically writing off the state because they didn’t see economic opportunities for themselves here.”

You served the maximum of four consecutive two-year terms in the House. Why didn’t you go for the State Senate seat that opened up at the end of your final term?

“I decided a while back that I really enjoyed the opportunity to serve in the House, but it would also be nice to just stop there.”

What about future political ambitions?

“I really haven’t given it much thought. I don’t know. It’s definitely not on my radar screen right now. I just started a new job. We just a bought a house, so it’s not something I am contemplating. Actually, I think it’s very hard to chart your political future in a state like Maine. We only have two Congressional districts and have a pretty significant and deep bench of candidates.”

What about local politics? We’ve heard your name mentioned as a potential mayoral candidate in Biddeford.

“What? (Laughs) Oh, no, no no. Definitely not. I don’t want to be that close to the fire (Laughs). Actually, I think very highly of municipal leaders who take on the tough tasks — with little pay — to keep our communities up and running. While I don’t have plans to run for mayor or council, I admire those who find a way to serve in any capacity on behalf of the public good.”

Looking back on your time in the House, what would you say were your proudest accomplishments?

“There are so many things. During my second term, I chaired the Labor, Commerce, Research and Economics Committee, and I re-introduced a bill to expand funding for CTE (Career and Technical Education) in high schools around the state. I had sponsored a similar bill in my first term. The last infusion of funds for CTE programs was in 1998, and the costs of those programs was falling onto the shoulders of communities like Biddeford.

“We know that we have to solve challenges in the work force and train our young people to fill critical positions. The bill was defeated again, but I kept at it because I knew it was the right thing to do.  Ultimately, last year, we passed a $20 million bond for funding to 29 CTE centers across the state, including $7 million for the Biddeford Regional Center of Technology.”

Also, we were able to expand dental care coverage for more than 200,000 Maine people. We had strong bi-partisan support for that bill. When you think about it, it’s really an economic development issue.

“When you have someone sitting across from you at a job interview and the applicant has really bad teeth, it’s a stigma issue. I saw it as part of our social contract. Previously, people were using emergency rooms as a last resort to solve terrible, constant pain. Something had to be done.”

You eventually became one of the most important and influential people in Maine politics. But your tenure as Speaker was markedly different.

“It was a very humbling and rewarding experience, but it sure was unique. I was elected in December 2020, and the pandemic had been raging for a little more than six months. There was no way that it was going to be business as usual. To say that it was a significant challenge for all of us is sort of an understatement.

“Although it was a significant challenge to adapt the Legislature to mitigate against the pandemic, the work we accomplished over those two years was transformational.

“We made long overdue investments in Maine people and infrastructure. From broadband expansion to upgrading vocational schools, to fully funding the state’s share of public education to making school meals free for all students, to providing child care workers with a wage boost to investing in the construction of affordable and attainable housing, we overcame unprecedented circumstances and delivered transformational results.”

Are partisan political battles better or worse today than when you first arrived at the House?

“I actually think that it’s better today. During my eight years in Augusta, I experienced a lot of political variables. There is a stark difference in the tone from the governor’s office. My first term, we had a Republican governor and a Republican-controlled state senate.”

What are the biggest issues facing Maine today?

“Affordable housing is definitely the big issue, and that sort of goes hand-in-hand with our state’s work-force challenges. We have this perfect storm of new and younger people moving to Maine. It’s hard to know what’s driving that migration. Is it people who want to live in Vacationland? Or are they just planning to stay a little while? That’s the big question.

“Regardless, we’ve got to build more housing. It’s simple supply and demand. If we want people to fill in the gaps of our work-force shortages, we need affordable housing for them, otherwise they’re not going to stay.”

You’re beginning a new job, appointed by Gov. Janet Mills.

“I was appointed as senior advisor for Community Development and Strategic Initiatives in the Governor’s Office of Policy Innovation and the Future.”

What exactly is that?

(Laughs) “It’s a long title, but basically I will be mostly focused on housing and work-force policy initiatives. It’s sort of a hybrid position. I’ll also be working closely with certain consulates that have ongoing relationships with Maine, such as Canada, France and others to explore economic development opportunities.”

Originally published in Saco Bay News

Mark Johnston: Rocket Man

Mark Johnston
Former Saco Mayor Mark Johnston/ Marlee Hayes photo

Something strange is about to happen on the other side of the Saco River. It’s as rare as a blue moon and perhaps more difficult to understand.

Mark Johnston will not be running for mayor in Saco.

Johnston, 61, says he has spent nearly 40 years in service to his community. Now, he says, it’s time to let someone else take the reins.

“I’m tired. I’m going to be 62, and now it’s time for Mark,” he said during a recent interview at his Main Street delicatessen, which is often mistaken as City Hall with an amazing selection of wines and good sandwiches.

Johnston came into the world of politics in the usual way: He was a malcontent, a young man worried about a used car lot that was planned near his home.

That was nearly 40 years ago, when he was appointed to the Saco Zoning Board of Appeals. His political career would extend over the next four decades and he served under five different mayors, including Sam Zaitlin, Paul Jansen, Haley Booth, Fred Clark and Eric Cote. He also served on the planning board and the city council.

Of course, Johnston also served as the city’s mayor for the better part of two decades, beginning in 1989 with four consecutive terms that ended in 1997. Six years later, in 2003 he was again elected as the city’s mayor and served another three terms, 2003-2007; and 2011-2013.

Every time his name was on the ballot he easily won his election . . . except the first time.

Despite the fact that he was unopposed and his name was the only one on the ballot, Johnston was forced to sue the city in order to become its mayor because he did not get enough votes to meet the criteria of a provision in the city’s charter.

A superior court judge sided with the politician over the city, but Johnston did not escape unscathed. He was mocked on national television by David Letterman and Jay Leno.

Round and round

Johnston runs Vic & Whit’s with his ex-wife, Beth. They have been divorced 25 years but seem to have a successful working relationship.

Two years ago, I named Johnston as the single-most politically influential person in the Biddeford-Saco area, describing him this way:

Mark Johnston is the consummate politician….

He’s Bugsy Seigel, Charlie Lucianno and Meyer Lansky all rolled into one affable, near-sighted man with an uncanny resemblance to Sir Elton John.

______

This is not the first time you announced that you were stepping down from politics. You always seem to come back for more?

(Laughs) “I really meant it the last time, but I had to come back to correct some very serious mistakes that were made during the Ron Michaud Administration. My intent (in 2011) was to correct those mistakes: our bond rating was lowered, the city had blown through its reserve balances. It was a lot of smoke and mirrors because no one had the courage to raise taxes slightly in order to keep up with very basic infrastructure.”

Are you leaving now because people are angry about significant tax hikes?

“No. I think most people understand the position we were facing. It’s not easy to raise taxes, even a little bit. But leaders are not elected to do easy things. Leaders are elected to lead.”

What was your proudest moment as mayor?

“The train station, hands down.  We were entering a new century and thinking about new transportation. Passenger rail had long been abandoned, but having it come back has paid huge dividends for Saco. It really redefined this community. We have people who live here because of the train and such easy access to their jobs in Boston.”

You told residents it would not cost ‘one red cent’ in taxes. That didn’t quite work out, did it?

(Laughs) “People misunderstood me. I said not one red cent, it ended up being a whole lot of red cents. But seriously, this has become a huge asset for our community. We wanted to embrace it. A lot of things changed in midstream. None of us knew then that Guilford Rail was going to require us to have a $250 million liability policy. But we were able to use the Saco Island TIF and revenues from the MERC settlement and rental fees from the Chamber of Commerce.

“I am very proud of that station. It was the first green station built in the United States. It has geo-thermal heating; and the roof was made with a composite material from recyclables. It meets every standard of LEED certification. It was built by all Maine contractors, with wood beams from Maine forests.”

And the wind turbine

“I’ll take all the fault for that. It’s not the one I wanted, but I couldn’t get the council to approve the one I wanted. What we have is basically a kit that cost us $250,000. I wanted the million dollar one, which would have been much taller and as a result much more efficient.

“The council didn’t want to spend $10,000 for a wind survey study. But what we have is iconic, and it sends a message about our community: we are embracing the future, we are recognizing that we must wean ourselves off fossil fuels.”

What was the worst moment of your time as mayor?

(Pauses) “It happened roughly three minutes after I was sworn in for my very first term, when I publicly fired the city attorney (Mary Kahl). She was a good attorney, but I thought she was interfering too much in the city’s day-to-day business. She ended up going to work for the city of South Portland. I don’t regret what I did, but I deeply regret the way I did it.

“I humiliated her in public, and that’s not leadership. That’s not how you should treat people. We were able to be civil, but the wounds never healed. Unfortunately, she passed away a while ago, and I don’t know if she ever forgave me. I was young and brash, but I learned a valuable lesson: always be willing to talk to those with whom you disagree. Never embarrass or humiliate someone in the public arena.”

Who do you think will be Saco’s next mayor?

(Smiles) “All I can say is that I will have to work with whoever becomes the next mayor.”

Ok, so who do you think will be Biddeford’s next mayor?

“Alan Casavant. He is an outstanding leader; a leader for the future. He is helping Biddeford make huge strides forward. He is also professional, calm and always a gentleman; all those tiny words that define character.”

Who was your favorite Biddeford mayor?

“Roger Normand. He was a man of integrity. He was a normal, average guy who never let the power of being mayor go to his head.”

Do you think there should be term limits for mayors and city councilors?

“Yes. Absolutely. After four terms, it’s time for a change. It’s too easy to get cocky.”

What are your thoughts about the RSU 23 issue, considering some in Saco are advocating for leaving the regional school district?

“I’m a little disappointed by the way some members of our community have acted during this debate. I think it’s a disgrace that some folks have called Old Orchard Beach residents “free-loaders.” RSU 23 has failed because of Saco’s penchant for elitism. We never talked about test scores, we never talked about how to bring teachers up through the ranks. We never talked about the important stuff. I want Thornton Academy to have the test scores that Scarborough is getting, and stop hiding behind the façade of a beautiful campus.”

Elitism in Saco?

“Yes, without a doubt. I grew up on Middle Street, a neighborhood that was known as Little Greece. Many of those people from that neighborhood became important and respected members of our community, civic leaders. It’s like we never got beyond the days of the “Battle of the Bridge.” Why do we still use that name? We never used it when Thornton played St. Louis. There has always been a false air of superiority in Saco. It’s been here a long time.”

What advice would you give to the city’s next mayor?

“Talk less and listen more.”

What will be your legacy?

“The elimination of Maine Energy. It took a long time, but I helped (and so did a lot of other people) keep the pressure on. Joanne Twomey and others never let up the pressure. I honestly never thought I would see the day. I am so proud of what Mayor Casavant and the Biddeford City Council did. That took leadership and vision, but they were not alone. A lot of people helped set the stage for finally getting MERC gone.”

So, will you be back as mayor?

“No, I really don’t think so. I have a new woman in my life, and it’s turning into something special. I was mayor when I got divorced, when I had a granddaughter, when one of my sons went to the battlefield. I’ve given a lot to this city. It’s time for me to take some time for myself and my family.”

Burnin’ down the house

If you don’t know anything else about Biddeford politics, you ought to know about the Dutremble family, one of the city’s most prolific, political families.

For more than 50 years, the Dutremble family has been — in one way or another —  deeply entrenched in local political circles.

State Sen. David Dutremble

Lucien “Babe” Dutremble, one of 13 children, never lost an election during a political career that included several terms on the city council, six terms in the Maine House of Representatives, the mayor’s office and serving as a York County Commissioner. Babe’s brother, Richard, was a York County Sheriff. Babe’s son, Richard, today serves as a York County commissioner.

Just as Babe’s political career was winding down, his second eldest son was making a name for himself. Dennis “Duke” Dutremble served several terms in the Maine Senate before being tapped as the senate president. But he retreated from the public spotlight after losing his bid to serve in the U.S. House of Representatives.

Flash forward nearly two decades, and yet another Dutremble is making a foray into the city’s political establishment, banking on his family’s legacy and his “outsider” perspective.

David Dutremble is a lieutenant in the Biddeford Fire Department, the youngest of Babe Dutremble’s nephews, and is now a candidate for the District 4 State Senate seat.

Despite his legacy name and strong local connections, David is facing some challenges on the road to Augusta.

1.) A crowded primary field could split the city’s Democratic base and allow someone like businessman James Booth of Arundel to take the seat as a unenrolled candidate. Booth, a native of the neighboring city of Saco, is the son of former Saco Mayor Haley Booth and served on the Saco City Council.

2.) Expect his primary opponents (which could include former State Rep. Stephen Beaudette and former city councilor James Emerson) to question whether Dutremble can effectively balance his city job as a firefighter while serving in the State Senate.

Furthermore, we were stunned that David has yet to seek the counsel of his cousins, Duke Dutremble and County Commissioner Richard Dutremble.

CAN’T WE JUST GET ALONG?

David Dutremble graduated from Biddeford High School in 1985. Since 1988, he has been a Biddeford firefighter. He and his wife, Charlene, have five children.

Why jump into the fray for a state senate seat without any prior political experience?

“Honestly, I would have gone into local politics a long time ago, but the city’s charter prevents city employees from holding municipal offices.  Initially, I was thinking about running for the House until I talked to Alan [Casavant] and found out he is hoping to keep his seat.”

You have all the political muscle you need, given your last name.

(Laughs) “It’s an intimidating last name, you know in local politics…absolutely, but it also carries a lot of expectations.”

Aren’t you busy enough. Why run for public office?

“I think we need more people in Augusta who can reach across the political divides. I think government has a responsibility to do good things for the people. Government should be creating an atmosphere that promotes economic development.”

You sound a little like a Republican.

(Laughs) “I’m a life-long Democrat, but I think both parties want to see Maine succeed. It’s time to stop all the political bickering and blame. It’s time to think about the people we serve. I don’t care who gets credit, as long as we do good things for the people.

“When my kids grow up, I want them to have the same opportunities I had. My step son had to move out west to find a good job. I think that’s really sad. It bothers me to see local kids miss out on the same opportunities we had growing up here.”

How can you be a firefighter and a state senator at the same time?

“I’ll use vacation time, and swap time. I’ve already run it past the guys in the department. I know I have support and we can swap shifts to accommodate my schedule.”

You haven’t talked to Duke about your decision to seek his old senate seat?

(Laughs) “He’s in Florida for the winter. I sent him an e-mail on Facebook, but I haven’t heard back. Maybe he doesn’t check his Facebook.

On a scale of 1-10, how would you rank Governor LePage’s performance?

(Pauses) “I’d probably give him a four. I just think his priorities are out of whack…like going after the labor mural.”

Same scale for President Obama?

“I’d say a 7. No matter who won in 2008, it was a no-win situation for our economy, whether we elected a Republican or Democrat. I don’t think we would be any better off if John McCain had won. I think President Obama has done a decent job.”

Do you really think you can change the political dynamic of partisan bickering?

“Yes, but you have to start small. People used to say that women would never be able to vote. We used to say that a black man would never drive the bus. I believe things can change for the better. I think elected leaders just need to focus on working in collaboration to solve problems.

Original or extra crispy?

(Laughs) “Extra Crispy.”

Coke or Pepsi?

“Pepsi…Diet Pepsi.”

Ginger or Mary Anne?

“Mary Anne, for sure.. (Laughs)

George ‘Pete’ Lamontagne

George “Pete” Lamontagne is an uncomplicated man who has seen his fair share of complicated situations.

Political observers say the former city councilor’s laid-back personality and his friendly demeanor often calmed severe storms during especially contentious Biddeford City Council meetings.

Pete Lamontagne

He is a self-described man of the street, and he is widely perceived as a champion of those without friends or power. He is soft-spoken, but commands attention and respect when he speaks. He is a lover of history, politics and art.

He is a simple, courageous man with an extraordinary reputation, and he loves his hometown of Biddeford.

We caught up with Pete in the lobby of the North Dam Mill building, formerly the home of the Biddeford Textile Company, where both Lamontagne and his father worked. As always, he was gracious, understated and relaxed.

With the exception of a two-year hiatus, Lamontagne served as a member of the Biddeford City Council for more than a decade, first elected as a Ward 5 Councilor in 1997. He returned to the council in 2001 and remained there, serving as both an at-large representative and council president, until stepping down last year.

You and several other members of the last city council were roundly criticized because of the infamous executive session meeting held with the owners of Scarborough Downs before the city announced its intention to put out a racino referendum. Do you regret that decision?

“In hindsight, sure. We found out after the meeting that it wasn’t right. (Sighs) It doesn’t matter much now, it’s water under the bridge. I can’t speak for anyone else, we just wanted to do something for our community to help bring back jobs…it didn’t work out, and now the city will have to look at other things, but I don’t think we’ll ever see anything that big, anything that could have brought so many jobs here.”

You were a big supporter of the proposed Biddeford Downs project.

“Oh absolutely. I’ve spent a lot of time in both Bangor (Hollywood Slots) and Foxwoods, which are both about 180 miles either way of here. When West Point closed its doors, it was a like a stake in the heart of hope for those of us who worked there.

“I see these unemployed people every day. These are good people, hard-working people; they looked at this proposal and said, you know…maybe I can get a job there. It was something to hope for, and I was relentless. Today, those people are still unemployed.”

You were the president of the UNITE union and you worked in that mill for more than three decades. The closure hit you hard.

“Oh yes…. (Pauses) You know, I never thought it [West Point] was going to close. I never planned to retire. It was tough. It was devastating for a lot of families, my friends… A lot of us started taking retraining classes at the Community Center, but jobs are tough to find right now.”

You know a lot about hard times.

(Laughs) “I sure do, but I also know something about good times, and strangely enough, they often overlap.

“I grew up on Water Street, and back then it was a very poor neighborhood, mostly bars. But it was a also a close-knit neighborhood. It was where Raymond Gaudette and [former mayor] Gilbert Boucher grew up. I had lots of friends.

“Two of my aunts and one of my uncles lived with us; back then it was how families did things. Every store had a back room with warm beer, because that’s what people liked. Warm Schmidts …it was their beer of choice (Laughs).”

You were named after your dad.

(Laughs) “Well, sort of, . . . his name was Pete. He was a big guy. He worked at the mill as a mason in the late ’50s and early ’60s. People called me Little Pete or Pete junior. Actually, my middle name is Alphonse, but don’t print that.” (Laughs)

Did you get the political bug from your father?

“Well, you know, he ran for the council as a Republican, and he got trounced. I mean, he was a French Republican.”

Did he live long enough to see his son get elected?

“Yes, he passed away just after I won my first election. I think he was very proud.”

You served under three mayors: Dion, Nutting and Twomey. Is Biddeford’s political landscape as tough as its reputation?

“Oh yes, Biddeford politics can be very tough. You have to have a thick skin. I got to serve with [Jim] Grattelo and [Marc] Lessard. Those were my best days. (Smiles)

“There were times when I had to break up physical fights; and there were many times when Mayor Twomey and I found ourselves in very heated disagreements, and we didn’t always see eye-to-eye.”

So how did you broker the peace?

“I don’t look at the oyster shell, I’m always looking for the pearl inside the shell.”

You and Joanne Twomey go way back.

“She was a pretty, little blonde girl. When I was a young boy, my family spent a lot of time out at Hills Beach. She used to visit, and we would sit on the beach together and talk. I guess you could say she was my first girlfriend.” (Smiles).

You also befriended Rory Holland, a former mayoral candidate who is now in jail for murdering two young men.

“A lot of people didn’t like him. He was not well, but I think he understood where I was coming from. I would let him visit my house, but I was always firm with him, and told him I would not hesitate to throw him out. I think he respected me, but I also think he needed a friend.

“I woke up to the news about the shootings, and I was in shock. It took me more than three days to get my head around it, what a terrible tragedy. It still hurts to think about it.”

Your service in the Army didn’t get much respect from former mayor Wallace Nutting.

“His four stars had a big impact on me. I wasn’t intimidated by them, but I had a high degree of respect for his military service and accomplishments.

“I was a mail clerk in the Army, a desk jockey, serving with the Adjutant General’s staff. But still, here was this 19-year-old Biddeford boy in France.

“Mayor Nutting had a different way of doing things. He would always ask for your input or opinions, but you always knew what the answer was supposed to be.” (Laughs)

Who did you vote for during the last election, Casavant or Twomey?

“No answer.” (Laughs)

You wanted to serve as a citizen member on the council’s Policy Committee, but you were never appointed. What happened?

I don’t know. Alan [Casavant] and I met shortly after the election, and I told him I wanted to be on the policy committee. We were in his office at City Hall, and I saw him write it down. Then, the council agenda didn’t include my name as an appointment.

“At first, I was mad….Bastard!, I thought, until I saw the two names of people who got appointed to that committee, Laura (Seaver) and Renee (O’Neil). Those were perfect choices, so I decided not to say anything. It could not have worked out better. I think those two will do a wonderful job. I was very pleased with the mayor’s picks.”

Angus S. King, Jr.

By RANDY SEAVER/ Oct. 8, 2002

In just a few weeks, someone else will be leading the state of Maine, and Gov. Angus S. King, Jr. seems grateful that his two terms in office are about to end. He has granted this one-on-one interview between two speaking engagements, and although it is relatively early in the morning, the state’s 71st governor looks tired.

King won his first bid for public office in 1994 and was re-elected in 1998 by one of the largest margins of victory in the state’s history. He is one of the only two independent governors in the country, and the second in a state known for its quirky political trends.

According to the state’s website, King, 58, graduated from Dartmouth College in 1966 and the University of Virginia Law School in 1969. He began his career in 1969 as a staff attorney for Pine Tree Legal Assistance in Skowhegan. In 1972, he became chief counsel to the U.S. Senate Subcommittee on Alcoholism and Narcotics in the office of then-Senator William D. Hathaway. In 1975, he returned to Maine to practice law and began his almost 20 year-stint as host of the television show “Maine Watch” on the Maine Public Broadcasting Network. In 1983, he became vice-president and general counsel of Swift River/Hafslund Company, an alternative energy development company based in Portland and Boston.

You have offered to help negotiate a solution to the problems Biddeford and Saco are facing with Maine Energy. Are you optimistic that even a dialogue between all the parties can be successful?

“I’m optimistic that anything can happen if people sit down and talk with one another, and that’s what I’m hoping can happen here. I have met with the mayors, the city councils and members of Twin Cities Renaissance and representatives from the company . . . and there at least seems to be some movement toward some direct discussions. And I don’t understand why that should be difficult. If George Mitchell can facilitate discussions about a peace process in Northern Ireland, then I don’t know why we can’t do it.

“I don’t know if there is a simple solution to this because you have a large plant with a large capital investment in the middle of a community, and basically — the community, or at least a significant part of the community wants it out; they certainly want the impacts minimized. I don’t know if there is an answer, but we’ll never know unless we try to find it.”

Some legislators have criticized you because you went forward with your computer laptop program, despite facing a projected $240 million budget shortfall. It’s obviously an important program for you, but shouldn’t it have waited, considering that the state’s General-Purpose Aid for education was cut?

“It’s not an important program for me. It’s an important program for the state. The cost is relatively minor when considering the overall education budget, and I think that’s a point that has sort of been lost in all of this.

“The cost of the laptop program is about $9 million a year. The total school budget in Maine is about $1.8 billion a year, which means that it’s one half of one percent of the overall school budget. And yet, it [the laptop program] has the potential to fundamentally change our standing and how our state is perceived by the rest of the world.

“It’s really a question of bang for the buck. The educational benefits of this program are so far out of proportion to a one half of one percent expenditure that it would be just . . . . . . short-sighted is too mild a word . . .for what it would mean to stop it; particularly now that it’s actually in place and people can go see how it works.

“Before, I was arguing for it sort of in the abstract. But now, everybody in Maine can walk down to their local seventh grade [classroom] and talk to their teachers and students and see what’s happening in the classrooms, which is absolutely extraordinary. I have received unsolicited letters from seventh-grade teachers saying, ‘We were opposed to it. We didn’t think it was a good idea, and now we think it’s the most important educational initiative in our lifetimes.’”

“It is really huge, and it has the potential to really leapfrog Maine . . . in terms of where we stand in the world. The other thing that’s sort of frustrating is to read about legislators and legislative candidates saying this isn’t a good idea and we ought to kill it. Everybody in the world is watching this project.

“Within the last month, we’ve had a delegation here from Edinborough, Scotland, including two members of their city council, their superintendent of schools and two [school] principals. They flew all the way here to see this project, and there are some legislators I can’t get to walk across the street to see the project. That’s pretty frustrating.

“We had a delegation from France come to look at it last week. This week, we have a delegation, including the premier from New Brunswick, coming to look at it. We have many states that are interested in it And yet, here we are: arguing about whether to continue.

“All I ask is that people actually take a look at what’s happening and then make a judgment, in terms of other educational expenditures. What could you use $9 million for, one half of one percent, that would have this kind of impact? And the answer is . . . I can’t come up with anything. What is one half of one percent? Is that snowplowing or cleaning materials?

“GPA (general purpose aid for education) is now up to $730 million a year. Teacher pensions are costing the state $900 million a year. This is only one percent, less than that, really, of the whole state budget for education.”

You have also been criticized about instituting state employee furlough days. Some have said that such a program costs more money because of necessary overtime expenses and lost productivity.

“Here’s a case where we had a serious budget problem, and . . . I didn’t think that state employees could be immune from the impacts. People in the public were saying to me, ‘lay them off.’ The three furlough days this year saved us from having to lay-off about 150 people permanently. That was the choice that I had.

“I felt it was less disruptive to have everybody have a little pain, then to have some people really be devastated. That was the decision.”

Why are we having budget difficulties?

“In some ways it’s complicated, and in other ways it’s really quite simple. If you read headlines that say, ‘Stock market up, unemployment down, incomes growing,’ we’re going to have all the revenues we want and need. If you read headlines that say, ‘Stock market at a five-year low, unemployment rate up, incomes stagnant,’ the revenues are going to be down. We are inextricably linked to the overall economy.

“Right now, we’re in a situation in which we’ve had the largest drop in the stock market since 1929. We had Sept. 11. We’ve had a recession that really won’t go away; it’s now one of the longest we’ve had in 20 years, since the early 1970s. And all of those things combined mean that the state is going to be getting less revenue.”

What will your advice be to the next governor?

“We have to prepare a budget between now and December and then essentially turn that over to whomever is elected. And then they’ll have about two months or six weeks to put their stamp on it before they submit it in February.

“My advice to my successor is that they should look for savings wherever they can. They’re going to have to look at our tax structure,. . . so much depends on what the economy looks like. We had a forecast last week that said things were basically worse than we thought, and then on Friday we got economic data from the federal government that said things are better than we previously thought.

“I think [the next governor] will have some hard decisions to make.”

What are your plans for after you leave office?

(Smiles) “Oh, that I can tell you. Mary and I have bought a very large R.V. It’s parked in my front yard. In fact, it’s become my front yard. Mary and I and the kids, who are 12 and 9 (Benjamin and Molly), are going to leave the day after I leave office. We’re going to see the country. We’re going to take about 5-1/2 months, and be back in May or June sometime.

“We’ll go to the Grand Canyon, Mount Rushmore, Glacier National Park and all those places I wish I had seen when I was a kid. And I think it’s okay when my successor takes over, not to have me around as he works through some of the issues he’ll be dealing with. I’ll be away.

After that, we’ll come back to Maine. We’ll continue to live in Brunswick. I have, really honestly, I don’t know. . .I’m not trying to be coy. . . I just don’t know, maybe teach or write . . .I’m just not sure.”

Your proudest accomplishment?

“It’s hard to say because only time will tell. I’ll be honest with you, and I haven’t said this before . . . this computer thing may turn out to be huge. I think it’s bigger than I thought. And it really does have the potential to change things. This thing has enormous potential.

“And I think, if I’ve accomplished anything . . . I am very proud of a lot of specific things. . . the computers, learning results, land conservation, job growth; 75,000 new jobs, first in the nation law on dioxin . . .

“Looking back on this era, it may be that the most important contribution I’ve made is toward Maine’s attitude toward itself. I’ve tried very hard to communicate a message of optimism and possibility to Maine people. We can compete, and we don’t have to apologize and feel as if we are unable to stand with the best.

“I think a leader has a lot of responsibilities; I think there’s a psychological, emotional intangible aspect to being a leader. And maybe that’s why I’m so passionate about the casino issue, because it’s so inconsistent with what our state is. We truly live in a great place.”