Once in a lifetime

Of course it happened in Biddeford.

Okay, so maybe it could have happened in Sanford, Lewiston or Rumford but really – – what’s the difference?

I’m speaking, of course, about the so-called sting video that was meant to prove rampant abuse of welfare benefits in Maine.

The undercover, amateur video was shot in the Biddeford office of the Maine Department of Health & Human Services roughly six months ago, and it sparked a media frenzy when it was released last week by two organizations that I have supported.

A few points of disclosure before we proceed any further:

  • I live in Biddeford;
  • My wife works as a social worker at the Biddeford DHHS office;
  • I am a registered Republican;
  • I once received welfare benefits.

Which of those above points does not belong? Which one is not like the others?

To better explain my perspective on this incident, I invite you on a journey back to August 10, 1983, a date I will never forget and a date that colored my view of the amateur video that was publicly released exactly 28 years later.

It was a Wednesday and it was hot. Hot and incredibly humid. Dog Day Afternoon hot.

I was 19 years old and about to experience something I would never forget.

I was also an in-patient on the psychiatric unit of the Maine Medical Center in Portland. Less than 24 hours earlier my mother visited me and explained that I could not come home once I was discharged. My behavior, she explained, was unacceptable. My illness was manifesting itself in fits of uncontrolled rage, belligerent behavior and sheer arrogance.

This was my second hospitalization in less than one year. I was floundering and out of control. I remember being angry during that meeting with my mother, my doctor and a social worker. But my anger was much more about fear than anything else.

Where would I go? How would I survive?

I did not have a job. I had only the clothes on my back and 55 cents in my pocket. I not only know it was exactly 55 cents, I also know that it was one quarter and three dimes. I awoke the next morning and stared out the window of my hospital room. From the sixth floor, it was looked as if the city of Portland was snarling at me, ready to swallow me whole.

You may find yourself in another part of the world. . .

I was discharged at about 11 a.m. and began my walk down Congress Street, past the fire department, the statue of Longfellow and the porno theaters that have since disappeared.

By the time I hit the intersection of Oak Street, I was drenched in sweat. I stopped at the McDonald’s restaurant and asked to speak with the manager.

I was told the manager was busy. They were gearing up for a lunch rush. I asked when I could come back just before a man tapped me on the shoulder. “What do you need?” he asked.

I will never forget that man. His name was George Lydick. He lived in Falmouth, and he owned three McDonald’s restaurants in the area. He invited me to sit down and grabbed an employment application.

I can’t remember if I filled out the application. I do remember that he gave me a Big Mac and a chocolate shake. He asked if I could start immediately because he needed a third-shift utility worker, a janitor who would clean the bathrooms, change the oil in the fryaltors, empty the garbage, break down and sanitize the shake machine and mop the floors.

He was willing to take a gamble on me, but only when the restaurant was closed and there were no customers around. I had told him that I was just discharged from P-6, after all.

I had a job. I would earn $4.25 an hour, and George agreed to comp me two meals a day until I got my first paycheck. I shook his hand. Thanked him profusely and left in search of place to live.

Roughly 30 minutes later, I found myself with dozens of other people in the basement level of Portland City Hall. My name was called, and I met with a caseworker. I showed her my discharge papers and told her I just got a job at McDonald’s but had no place to live. The shame of being there was crushing.

The city, she explained, had limited resources, but if I could find an apartment that would take city vouchers, they could pay my rent until I got my first paycheck. They could not, however, help with any security deposits. She also gave me $17 worth of emergency food stamps and sent me on my way, looking for an apartment with a list of potential places and an eligibility form that the landlord would have to complete.

I struck pay-dirt on my first try, the emphasis on dirt. The apartment was a one-room efficiency on the fourth floor of a building that smelled of cat urine and featured peeling paint, torn carpeting in the hallways and lots of loud music. The rent was $50 a week. It included all utilities.

The room was tiny and had two windows, both of which could not be opened because of the swelling wood and lack of maintenance. The view featured the brick wall of an adjacent building. There was a stained mattress, a two-burner cook top and a micro fridge.

You may find yourself living in a shotgun shack.

It was 2:30 p.m. I had been on my own for a little more than three hours. I had a job and a place to live.

I was terrified and would begin my new job in less than eight hours.

Despite my accomplishments, I did make a very big mistake that day. I decided to use the toilet in my new apartment. It did not occur to me until it was much too late that I did not have toilet paper, a shower curtain, soap or even a towel.

My theory is if that ever happens to you, it only happens once. In the 28 years since, I’ve never had less than 28 rolls of toilet paper in my home at any given time.

I remember being stunned that I had to actually pay for things like towels, salt, soap and toilet paper. Those things should be free, I reasoned.

Welcome to being an adult.

My mother and a friend of hers visited me three days later. They brought with them several bags of groceries: cans of tuna fish and soup, fresh vegetables, peanut butter, bread and cereal.

Flash forward 28 years later. I am sitting at my desk this morning, thinking that I should clean my pool instead of updating my blog. I am overlooking my gardens, and I am impressed with my lawn and its lack of brown spots. All my windows can be opened, and we have five air conditioners.

You may find yourself with a beautiful wife and a beautiful house . . .

Next week, I will wake up in my camper perched on the shore of Moosehead Lake. My, God. . . how did I get here?

I say all this because the taxpayers (you) made an investment in me. Nearly three decades ago, you gave me $117 in rent and groceries. For the next two years, you subsidized my medications and loaned me money to go to college.

Was it a wise investment? I like to think so, especially when I look at how much I pay in taxes; the money I donate to charity and the lessons I try to pass on to my two stepsons.

Sure, it doesn’t always work out this way. And who knows, maybe I could crash and burn, but sometimes the investment works out nicely.

Make no mistake, welfare fraud happens. If you look hard and long enough, you can always find waste, inefficiency and things that need to be improved. It all depends on where you want to look.

If you’re upset about how welfare fraud impacts your wallet, you’re certainly not alone. Personally, as a conservative Republican, I am much more concerned with how welfare fraud impacts those who truly need government assistance. With limited budgets and resources, we don’t need clowns running around with hidden cameras looking for a “gotcha” moment.

We need more people giving back to their communities. We need to invest more of our time, energy and resources in making our communities stronger and safer.

Governor Paul LePage, a man who knows a thing or two about being down on your luck, responded to the video release like….well….like a governor should. He questioned the delayed release of the videotape. He saw an example of an opportunity for better training and renewed focus on efficiency of state services.

He didn’t see a smoking gun. He saw an opportunity. But I don’t expect he’ll get much credit for it.

That’s just the way it goes when you’re a Republican who lives in Biddeford, Lewiston, Sanford or Rumford.

Testimony in support of LD 364

A copy of the testimony I presented to the Maine Legislature’s Joint Standing Committee on Insurance and Financial Services on March 2, 2011

Re: LD 364, Resolve, Directing Updated Review and Evaluation of Maine’s Mental Health Parity Law

 Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the committee. Thank you for the opportunity to speak to you today about the importance and my support of LD 364.

My name is Randy Seaver, and I am here.

Ladies and Gentlemen, if that statement seems vague, please allow me to explain. From my perspective, it is nothing short of a miracle that I am able to stand before you today and testify about the critical importance of maintaining Maine’s mental health parity legislation.

What do you see when you look at me? Perhaps you see a father, a husband or a communications consultant? Maybe you know me from some of the other state policy work I have been involved with over the last several years. Perhaps you know me as a veteran; or as a former journalist and newspaper editor.

In fact, I am all of those things. But what you may not know is that I am also someone with a mental illness who requires daily medication and ongoing treatment. I am not unique. I am not an anomaly. In fact, I am just like the thousands of other Maine people who suffer from some sort of mental illness.

If you think my numbers are high, please consider that the Centers for Disease Control estimates that 1 of every five Americans suffers from some form of mental illness. Based on the latest Census figures regarding Maine’s population, the math will tell you that there are more than 200,000 people just like me in Maine.

We are your neighbors, your friends, your co-workers and colleagues.

Mental illness is no different in its implications than any other form of disease, such as Diabetes or epilepsy. Would you think of me any differently if I stood before you to talk about insurance coverage for diabetics?

My illness, as long as it is treated properly, is virtually impossible to detect. When addressed through medication and regular clinician visits, my illness does not prevent me from doing things that so many us take for granted: holding a job, maintaining a marriage, volunteering in the community and yes, even paying taxes that support our communities.

But there is another side of that coin because I know all too well the costs associated without access to treatment and medications. Between 1982 and 1998, I was in and out of various hospital settings and unable to hold a job or maintain a relationship.

In fact, if you were to eat just one whoopee pie for every time I was hospitalized during that 16-year time frame, you would die of hypoglycaemic shock before you were halfway there.

When Jared Loughner committed his horrific acts of violence in Tucson, I knew that I had a responsibility to speak up publicly about both the stigma associated with mental illness and the need to ensure that people have fair access to treatments and medications.

You see, Jared Loughner and I are not that much different. The only real difference is that I was able to receive treatment and medication, and that I take responsibility for managing my illness.

Those two things are important, and they are the only reasons why I am here today, and not in prison, a hospital ward or a morgue.

But without access to treatment, how am I able to take responsibility for managing my illness? If I pay the same insurance premium as my neighbor, why should an insurance company view my illness any differently?

Access to medication and ongoing treatment allows me to be a productive member of my community. Without that access, it is likely that I will end up in a hospital. If I’m not working, I’m unable to support myself. I am not paying income taxes or contributing to the economy as a consumer of goods and services. Wouldn’t you agree that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure?

Ladies and Gentlemen, my name is Randy Seaver, and I am here!

I am here to plead with you to maintain and support Maine’s mental health parity law.

Roland, the headless gunner

As we inch closer to the 2004 elections, we all seem to be getting either more stupid or lazy. Maybe both.

While we listen to the presidential candidates debate how they spent their summer vacations during the Vietnam War, a number of key issues seem to have fallen by the wayside. At the same time, it seems that the media and the American electorate could not care less.

Take, for example, a front-page story in the Sept. 10 Portland Press Herald regarding Bushmaster, Inc., a Windham-based gun manufacturer. According to the story by David Hench, the company has agreed to exhaust its insurance benefits in order to console the victims of the Washington D.C. snipers.

How can we read a story like this and not be outraged? Yet again, the liberal mentality is taking the path of least resistance and faulting the gun manufacturer as a way to appease concern about acts of senseless violence.

Somehow, we believe that getting rid of the guns will reduce crime. It’s akin to believing that Prohibition would save American families, reduce crime and prevent rampant alcoholism. Gun control appears to be the easiest, safest and least costly approach to solving an otherwise complex problem.

And when that doesn’t work, blame the corporations. Riddle me this: What consolation is $550,000 going to bring to anyone who lost a family member?

Although the folks at Bushmaster apparently believe they are not at fault for the snipers’ use of the company’s weapons, the lawyers believe that settling will be a lot less expensive than a trial. And so it goes once again; a company that reportedly employs 100 people will be held responsible for the idiotic lunacy of two criminals.

I don’t know about you. But I’m not going to sleep any better tonight.

This, dear readers, is just another example of our society’s constant push to assign blame rather than hold individuals accountable for their own actions. Under this logic, Mary Jo Kopechne’s family should sue General Motors, not the Kennedy family for their daughter’s tragic death In Oldsmobile Delta 88 under the Chappaquiddick Bridge.

People kill people, not guns or cars.

And for all my liberal buddies out there, my favorite bumper-sticker is still: “Ted Kennedy’s car has killed more people than my handgun.”

Handgun legislation did nothing to prevent the violent death of Nicole Brown or Ronald Goldman, either. Gun registration laws also did nothing to prevent a South Portland man from being beaten to death with a baseball bat four years ago.

I always find it ironic when my liberal colleagues blather on about the First Amendment but then speak with such disdain about the next item in the Bill of Rights as if it were nothing more than protection for duck hunters.

Our nation’s forefathers knew all too well what could happen to an unarmed citizenry. Despite the constant lessons of history, (from Kosovo to Cuba and from Pre-WWII Germany to South Africa) liberals still believe that “regular citizens” have no need for owning weapons.

But when was the last time you saw a refugee crossing the border of his former homeland, carrying a rifle across his shoulder? It doesn’t happen. What would have happened if the Africans could have shot back at their American oppressors?

I don’t own a gun now, but I did. And to think that the government believes it should have a list of anyone who owns a handgun should be chilling enough. But even if getting rid of all the guns gives you the soft and fuzzies, should we really hold the manufacturers responsible for the actions of criminals? I think not.

A while back, a man in California killed several pedestrians when he drove into a crowded public market. Where’s the consolation for those families? Where are the lawyers, drooling over the chance to sue the Ford Motor Company? It’s just that we hate guns — unless, of course, we find ourselves on the wrong end of a violent crime. When that happens, having a gun would be mighty handy.

My kids know that they will always be held accountable for their actions. And only by teaching them about discipline and personal responsibility can they ever hope to be truly free men in a world that is increasingly looking for someone else to blame.

Second-hand parents

State Rep. Marie Laverriere Boucher (D-Biddeford) is living in La-La Land, where every little girl has a pink pony and giant-screen televisions repeatedly show episodes of Little House on the Prairie.

Let’s give the Biddeford City Council a rest this week, and turn our attention instead to all those wacky legislators we love to hate. What is going on in Augusta? And what has Laverriere-Boucher been smoking?

Marie has introduced a bill that would prohibit foster parents from smoking in their homes or cars because they would be exposing children to the dangers of second-hand smoke.

For the record, I am smoking while writing this column.

Marie’s bill, while chock-full of good intentions, is completely impractical and the likely passage of such a law raises serious concerns about enforcement and the state’s pathetic lack of foster parents.

For the record, I am married to a child protective caseworker for the Maine Department of Human Services.

Perhaps Marie has been too busy with the state’s projected $1.2 billion budget deficit (that’s right, I said $1.2 billion) to watch the PBS Frontline series about Maine’s DHS system. In episode two of that three-part series, viewers watched a day in the life of various caseworkers from the Bangor DHS office. One portion of that episode showed three caseworkers spending their entire day desperately trying to find a foster family for two little girls (sisters) who had been removed from their home.

For the record, Laura and I had a big argument while watching the above-mentioned television show.

Let’s be honest. Smoking is not a smart thing to do. Also, scientific studies have clearly shown the dangers of second-hand cigarette smoke. Should foster parents smoke? Absolutely not. But here’s a better question: should any child be in a foster home? In an ideal world like La-La Land, foster homes would not be needed.

Scientific studies have also shown that eating red meat is bad for you; so is exposure to sunshine. How many children have died in automobile accidents? Sugar causes gum decay and television warps their minds. I guess, under ideal circumstances, parents would be perfect without flaws or bad habits.

But before you jump on me about smoking, know this: I stepped in to help raise two boys who were — for all intents and purposes — abandoned by their father. When I do smoke, I do so in the enclosed front porch of our home, which has been converted into 50 percent office space, 50 percent dining area and the other 50 percent laundry room.

For the record, we have a small house.

I like to refer to this space as the West Wing of our home, even though it faces the northeast side of our property.

Am I a bad step-father because I smoke? Maybe. But I also coached their Little League team (no, I did not smoke anywhere near the fields.) I work with Tim and Matt on their homework and then read to them each night before their mother comes in for cuddles. I’ve taught Tim (age 7) how to play chess.

I pack the boys’ lunches each day and help them get dressed in the morning while their mother gets ready for work. I took a day off from work last week to take Tim to the doctor’s office. I do my best to teach them right from wrong and about basic values and responsibilities. I tell them both each day that I love them, and that I am proud of them. I take an active interest in their school activities and even chaperoned a field trip last year.

Am I the perfect parent? Absolutely not. But for these two boys who never had a father, they seem to think that I am. And what’s more important than that?

The pool of available foster parents in Maine is dangerously shallow; let’s not make it harder for people like Marie and her husband, Dan, who are now willing to open up their own homes in order to help a child who needs it.

Unfortunately, the vast majority of us do not live in La-La Land. Maybe that’s something Marie should think about before becoming so self-righteous on the House floor.

MERC: Broader implications for Maine’s solid waste problems

In many ways, Old Town is a lot like Biddeford. Both cities are supported by a manufacturing base and perched along a river bank. Biddeford has the University of New England, and Old Town is just a short drive away from the University of Maine’s Orono campus.

But while Biddeford considers the possibility of getting out of a host communities contract with Casella Waste Systems, city officials in Old Town are now preparing to enter into a similar agreement with the same company.

And in the end, if the controversial MERC plant is closed in Biddeford, the trash that is now incinerated on the banks of the Saco River could soon be on its way north, to where the Penobscot and Stillwater rivers merge.

The convergence of the two cities started a little more than two years ago, when Georgia Pacifc (headquartered in Atlanta) announced in February 2003 that it would soon close the doors at its Old Town tissue- paper mill.

Gov. John Baldacci’s office immediately scrambled, setting up a deal to save 450 jobs that pay an average of $55,000 per year by purchasing the paper mill’s 68-acre landfill in nearby West Old Town.

The deal allowed Georgia Pacific to use the money to become more efficient and save energy costs by developing a biomass boiler. That, state officials hoped, would make the mill more efficient and prevent the jobs from being transferred out of state.

That deal, however, set the stage for controversy, creating noticeable tension in the community of 8,500 people where Georgia Pacific pays $3.3 million in property taxes, roughly one-third of the city’s tax roll.

The deal was formally struck in February 2004, allowing the state to buy the landfill from Georgia Pacific for $26 million. But since Maine didn’t have the cash to buy the landfill, it sought help from Casella, offering the Vermont-based company a 30-year lease to operate the existing landfill.

By state law, the development of commercial landfills has been banned since 1989. Since Casella needed a way to increase its market share, the company agreed to pay $26 million for the operation rights, giving them a firm market hold in Maine, where they also own a number of related facilities, including the MERC plant in Biddeford and the former Pine Tree landfill in Hampden, a short drive south of Old Town.

Although the deal seems to have many advantages — including increased disposal capacity, saving endangered jobs and providing a glimmer of hope for closing MERC — critics say the bad outweighs the good and accuse state officials of merely allowing two large, out of-state companies to get into bed together at the expense of a small community’s environmental well-being.

The battle begins

Matt Dunlap was serving as Old Town’s state representative when Georgia Pacific announced two years ago that it would be closing its plant. Today, Dunlap serves as Maine’s Secretary of State, and he described the landfill deal as “one of the hardest things I have ever dealt with.”

Dunlap said the deal pitted neighbor against neighbor in Old Town.

“I lost some very good friends because of this situation,” he said during a telephone interview Friday. “I remember coming out of one public hearing in Old Town, and somebody had written the word ‘traitor’ on the back of my truck.”

Dunlap quickly concedes that the deal was moved along quickly, but insisted that no one did anything to hide the truth or to purposefully cloud the issue, as critics of the deal contend.

“We did debate this at 11:30 at night,” Dunlap said, referring to the legislative session that ended in June 2003, when state lawmakers were asked to approve the landfill’s transfer of ownership at the last possible minute — just before the session was scheduled to end. “Everyone was scrambling to do whatever we could.”

Like other state officials, Dunlap points out that the West Old Town Landfill was already in existence when the state offered to buy it. The landfill, he said, was previously owned by the James River paper mill and was used for that company’s sludge disposal. When Georgia Pacific bought the James River mill the landfill was part of the package.

“One way or another that landfill was going to be sold,” Dunlap said. “I thought it was better to have the state buy it so that we could have more control over it.”

If Georgia Pacific had closed its doors in Old Town it would be an economic catastrophe for the city, Dunlap said. “The worst news you can get when you’re a legislator is that one of your largest employers is shutting down,” Dunlap said. “We had to move at a fast pace.”

Despite critics’ assertions that the deal was kept under wraps, Dunlap said many people in Old Town didn’t pay much attention to the deal until it was finalized. “There were front-page stories in the Penobscot Times (an area weekly newspaper) and the Bangor Daily News, but people apparently didn’t pay much attention. It was such a complicated issue.”

But State Rep. Joanne Twomey (D-Biddeford) said the deal was never clearly explained to residents, pointing out that the public notice of the legislative hearing, which was published in the Bangor Daily News, never included mention that the landfill would now be allowed to accept “special waste.”

“All they said was that the landfill’s ownership was being transferred,” Twomey said. “If they had told people what was really going on, more people would have come to the hearing.”

Regardless, critics of the deal say it sets up a dangerous precedent, one which allows the state to be both the applicant and the grantor for expansion permits at the landfill, which is nestled in a marshy area on the westerly side of I-95, near the border of the neighboring town of Alton and the Pushaw Creek, a tributary of the Stillwater River.

Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap?

On the one-year anniversary of when the DEP signed the landfill’s new license (April 9, 2004), a group of the deal’s most vocal critics gathered at the home of Laura and Harry Sanborn in Alton.

The Sanborn property sits almost directly across the road from the main entrance of the West Old Town Landfill. For six generations, the family has owned the property that now features a modern, ranch-style home with a landscaped yard.

Soon, an increasing number of trash trucks will be rumbling down the road in front of the Sanborn property, which abuts Rte. 16.

“We don’t have a problem with taking care of our trash,” said Harry Sanborn, a management consultant. “We’re not a bunch of NIMBY (Not-In-My-Back-Yard) types. We know that we have a responsibility to take care of our trash, but this deal stinks.”

Laura Sanborn said she gave up her seat in the Maine House of Representatives so that she could focus on issues surrounding the landfill. When asked if she could be re-elected after publicly opposing a deal that was designed to save jobs, she took a deep breath and said,

“I’m not sure, but I know that I’m doing the right thing.”

The Sanborns are members of a group known as We The People, a grass-roots coalition of highly motivated people who share only one common denominator: opposition to expanding the West Old Town Landfill.

The group has fi led an appeal in Penobscot County Superior Court, arguing that the landfill should not have received a permit to expand.

According to the Maine State Planning Office, the 68-acre landfill will now be able to take in 10 million cubic yards of waste, stretching 180-feet above ground level.

George McDonald, manager of waste recycling at the SPO, said the West Old Town Landfill would likely be able to operate for 30 years, despite the need for another expansion in three years that is already in the works.

We The People members, however, wonder why the state didn’t consider the Carpenter Ridge landfill in Lincoln for their new deal.

Carpenter Ridge sits on 37 acres, but McDonald said expanding it would be cost prohibitive (estimated at $35 million) and points out DEP concerns about its geologic stability. “It’s still something we mayhave to look at down the road,” he said.

But the Old Town plan seems to work better (or worse, depending on the perspective) for a deal, which essentially allows Georgia Pacific to escape any future liability concerns connected to the West Old Town landfill, where critics have already raised environmental concerns.

Members of We The People say the deal does nothing for Maine’s future, only allowing Georgia Pacific and Casella to make millions of dollars while the state was held hostage for politically-valuable paper mill jobs.

“Ultimately, this is all about money,” said Stan Levitsky, a graphic designer and member of We The People. “Just look at the corporate connections. Georgia Pacific’s attorney (John Delahanty of Pierce Atwood) is a registered lobbyist for Casella.”

The money trail

While the West Old Town Landfill deal allows Casella to operate a commercial landfill that is really not a commercial landfill because it is owned by the state, Georgia Pacific also got a lot more than a $26 million biomass boiler out of the deal.

And while the governor’s office said the deal would save jobs, there is no written guarantee of that fact, especially in an economy that is becoming increasingly competitive as global markets continue to merge.

Thus, We The People contends that the state got left with the short end of the stick and their community will soon become host to an increasing amount of trash from all over Maine and beyond.

As part of the deal, Casella will be allowed to take in roughly 540,000tons per year of trash into the landfill. Furthermore, Casella has offered to sell some of that trash (construction and demolition debris) to Georgia Pacific as fuel for its new boiler. That “fuel” cost will be capped at $4 per ton, which is roughly half the current market rate, allowing Casella to have more capacity at the landfill and Georgia Pacific to enjoy subsidized energy costs, netting Casella roughly another $400,000 in annual revenue.

Political connections

Paul Schroeder, another member of We The People, said some of his biggest concerns about the deal focus on how it was orchestrated, saying pressure from the governor’s offi ce was put on the DEP to ensure that the deal would go through.

“Maine is going to become the final resting ground for everything that no one else wants, and it was all done under the guise of saving jobs,” Schroeder says. “The similarities between Old Town and Biddeford shouldn’t come as a surprise. That’s how these deals are done.”

And Levitsky says the people of Old Town were never asked whether they wanted to approve the deal, crediting Twomey with at least pushing for public hearings about the proposal. “Originally, people like Matt Dunlap were saying we didn’t need public hearings because this was all about saving jobs,” Levitsky said. “No one did their homework until it was too late.”

Schroeder has constructed a detailed timeline of the events leading up to the deal’s approval, pointing out that the original proposal came out of the Legislative Revisor’s  office on May 30, 2003. On June 2, 2003, the following Monday, a public notice about the hearing was published in the Bangor Daily News. On June 3, the hearing was held and only seven people showed up to testify, all union representatives who were concerned about the possible loss of Georgia-Pacifi c jobs.

“We never knew about it,” Schroeder said. “It was signed, sealed and delivered before anyone could balk.”

What to do now?

Gary Sirois is the chair of the Old Town City Council. Now serving his second term on the council, Sirois said he’s trying to “look at the whole picture” as his council considers a long-term, host communities contract with Casella.

“We’re concerned, but we have to go on the assurances that we’re getting from the state,” Sirois said. “It’s a difficult and complicated issue, but we’re told that the management of that landfill is going to be done right.”

Sirois said his council will likely spend the next few months in negotiations with Casella, and declined to discuss specifics of the proposed contract, citing their confidentiality during executive session meetings. “We’re just trying to do the best we can with what we’ve got,” he said.

Others in Old Town, especially those who say the deal will benefit their city, were hesitant to speak on the record about the deal, citing concerns about increasing tensions in the city.

Peggy Daigle, the newly appointed city manager, did not return the Courier’s repeated phone calls for an interview.

Meanwhile, Joanne Twomey, one of MERC’s earliest and most vocal critics, sighed when she was told about Sirois’ statements. “It’s happening all over again,” she said, referring to her own unsuccessful battle to keep MERC out of Biddeford some 20 years ago. “It just keeps coming, and it makes you feel like just giving up.”

Angus S. King, Jr.

By RANDY SEAVER

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.”