"What emerged is that we have to battle this perception that Maine is a tough place to do business, when really it's a great place, especially for companies that are E-service enablers," says Coleman.
Last fall, at the Camden Technology Conference, Maine's annual economics-issues seminar, the governor was asked, "What is your policy on the government and Internet culture?"
"Here's my policy," he replied. Then he stood there, not saying a word. Slowly, attendees began to clap, the applause building into a roar. Wired News headlined its coverage of the event "Angus for Prez," reporting that "Net guru John Perry Barlow said he thought he was having a hallucinatory experience, because it was the first time he heard 'an elected official who actually got it.' "
Despite the government's laissez-faire stance on Internet regulation, it's still tough to get outside capital into Maine. In February, at a mansion-turned-old-money-hangout called the Cumberland Club, Portland held its first seminar on venture capital for Internet businesses. Hosted by Capitalvenue, a New Hampshire company that usually runs its seminars in Boston, the conference offered entrepreneurs the standard presentation and cocktail party but added one-on-one sessions with the VCs in attendance. Most of the venture people seemed receptive and enthusiastic, although one Boston money guy, when asked why he'd driven up, was bemused. "I have no idea," he said, smirking. "You tell me what's going on here."
Financiers often pressure their Portland companies to move, concerned that the remote location makes recruiting the bodies that fast-growth companies need too difficult. Strunk out and out rejected venture-capital term sheets that tried to force him to move. "San Francisco is stimulating, but we'd be a small fish in a big pond," he says. "Here we're a somewhat bigger fish in a relatively small pond. And there aren't a bunch of killer-app companies down the block offering stock options and making us a revolving door."
But when the most prominent school in the city is the Maine College of Art, high-end tech talent has to be almost entirely imported. That's definitely a concern. And a relatively small population (63,000 in the city itself, 232,000 in the metro area) means a small local labor pool. "We seriously considered opening a technology-development office in Cambridge, [Mass.,]" says David Weatherbie, chief operating officer of Gofish.com. "We gave the green light for that if we couldn't get people to Portland, but we were able to relocate three key people here."
"We have to battle this perception that Maine is a tough place to do business. Really it's a great place."
--John Coleman, president of marketing company VIA Inc.
Some companies, succumbing to fears of not being able to find talent fast enough to compete in Internet space, do move out. But for companies not looking for jetloads of top-echelon tech-development talent, the city has distinct operational benefits. "The advantage of being at this end of the corridor is that there are a lot of high-quality customer-service people here who have been trained by L.L. Bean," says VIA's Coleman. And office space is far cheaper; $12 a square foot is typical, compared with $40 or more in Boston. Don't even think about Palo Alto.
Besides, for every worker a relocated Portland company could attract, it would lose a lot of people who wouldn't relocate because they love Portland so much. There are three varieties of such residents: those who grew up in the area and created opportunities for themselves; those who moved there for the lifestyle first and then found work to sustain themselves; and, increasingly, those who left once and have now returned (or who are being recruited to the area now that opportunities are flourishing).
Maria Chambers is a Portland lover of the second variety. She left Silicon Valley for Portland as a lifestyle choice, started her E-business-strategy company, Propel, there and then joined John Coleman's VIA. Coleman himself, who grew up in Augusta, Maine, is a returnee. He worked at Portland's International Paper, moved to the Midwest for work, and came back to Maine in the late '80s. "There were limited opportunities here, so I designed a job that would let me work with companies in New York and Silicon Valley," he says. (That his California customers thought he was actually in Portland, Oreg., helped some.)
Gofish.com operations director Liam Somers, also a returnee, grew up in Maine, lived in New Jersey for six years, and then moved back. "I can see the stars here, swim in the water, drink the water without growing a third arm. I can walk down the street at midnight."
If you live and work in Portland, you can even kayak to work, as Phil Friedman, a developer at Terralink Software Systems, does from Peaks Island across the bay when there's enough daylight. Or you can start out as an artist and remake yourself into an equally creative businessperson, as Jay and Allison Villani have done in opening Local 188, and as Leslie Hamren, who started out in advertising and now owns and runs a candle shop, Portobello, in the Old Port, has done as well.
Ironically, as Portland attempts to thrive in a changing world, its biggest advantage may end up being what doesn't change: good living, strong community, and the beauty of the land -- and a dry humor peculiar to survivors of brutal winters. As they say in Maine, it's the way life should be.
Leslie Brokaw is a freelance writer and editor based in Boston.
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