What Maine Means to Me
Words by John McArthur | Photo by Sam McArthur
It was 1985. She wanted to see a moose. Moose are rare in Massachusetts, where my wife, Reva, and I lived. Maine, we had heard, has moose. So we made a reservation at The Rangeley Inn, packed our hiking boots and some warm clothes into our boxy, green Volvo 240, and headed north for a weekend adventure.
When we arrived at the inn, we asked the man at the front desk, “Do you think we might actually see a moose?” He assured us, “Yes,” and gave us precise directions for which road to take and what time to arrive. We were skeptical, but followed his instructions. As we approached the spot, no fewer than five moose were grazing on the side of the road. When they grew curious and approached our car, we wisely kept the windows up and made no sudden movements. We knew that our Volvo would be no match for a startled moose. We returned to the inn that evening, glad that we had trusted the man at the front desk.
In Maine, I found trust, a key element in creating community. That same weekend, we rented a canoe. A driver brought the canoe and told us to leave our car near a bridge. He then took us upriver, helped us unload, and left, telling us to leave the canoe at the bridge when we were finished. He would come pick it up later. We smiled at the fact that he trusted us and everyone else that his canoe would be waiting for him when he returned.
I’m an avid hiker, and the next 15 years found me more often hiking in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. The drive to the mountains of Maine was just too far. But when our son, Sam, was accepted into the audio engineering program at NEScom in Bangor, Maine, I started to reintroduce myself.
When he graduated, we opened our first recording studio in New Hampshire. The work he did over the next five years was rewarding, but we felt somewhat isolated. So, when he told us he wanted to relocate to Maine to work at The Studio Portland, we couldn’t have been happier. In Maine, there was more diversity, a wealth of opportunity and multiple welcoming communities. A year after our son moved to Maine, my wife and I bought a majority interest in The Studio Portland.
What I found in Portland was abundance. And since we recently purchased a condo in Old Port to be closer to The Studio, I regularly attend the Society of Creative Pursuits that meets on the last Tuesday of every month. I’ve joined the Bayside Neighborhood Association Business Breakfast Club, and whenever possible attend the Creative Portland breakfast meetings. I’ve met producers, podcasters, actors, filmmakers, game designers, sound designers, script writers, authors, songwriters, and musicians of every genre and ethnicity. And on my near-daily outings to hear music, there’s someone I can call who wants to share the experience.
A highlight from the past two years was welcoming my childhood hero, Noel Paul Stookey from Peter, Paul, and Mary, to The Studio. He was part of the Sound Waves series we recorded in collaboration with Maine Public Television. Others on the series included local favorites, The Mallet Brothers and the Oshima Brothers. Just as exciting, though, was inviting over 80 local artists and over 600 audience members to 20 intimate in-studio concerts at our Songwriter Showcase series.
I now feel a part of multiple communities. My challenge on any given day has become choosing from among all of the opportunities in front of me. I’ve been known to hear music at five different venues in a single night. The opportunities to experience, to learn, to work and to create community are endless. I think I’m not alone when I say, “My only regret being in Maine is that I can’t live parallel lives.”