Friday, Oct. 31, 2003 | 9:13 a.m.
SANFORD, Maine -- This once-bustling mill town, where two Indian tribes want to build a sprawling casino and resort, has become a battleground where Las Vegas glitz collides head-on with Maine's idyllic L.L. Bean image.
Home of the durable L.L. Bean boot, Maine prides itself on its persona of lobster shacks, lighthouses and Thoreau's North Woods. Contrast that with the image of a casino and all that goes with it: roulette wheels, bright lights, booze and wads of money won and lost.
The passion stirred by that clash of images has helped fuel unprecedented spending by casino backers and opponents as politicking intensifies in the last week of a bitter campaign.
If Mainers approve a casino referendum Tuesday, the Passamaquoddy and Penobscot tribes plan to develop a $650 million casino and resort in southern Maine, most likely in Sanford.
Casino backers say the resort will be free of neon, showgirls and Elvis impersonators, and built in "the grand New England tradition." But critics maintain that a casino is bad news no matter what its facade, and that Maine is no place for a "Vegas East."
Jason Crawford, a 29-year-old janitor, spends five or six hours a day holding a "Casino No" sign on a downtown street corner. Casinos might be right for Vegas or Atlantic City, he says, but not Maine.
"The thought of a casino coming to Maine is like me parking a pickup truck right in your living room. How would that sit with you?" said Crawford, waving to motorists as they honk and give him a thumbs-up or a peace sign. Other drivers, who presumably favor a casino in town, offer less friendly gestures.
Casino supporters say postcard images and glossy pages of L.L. Bean catalogs do not reflect the harsh reality of life in hardscrabble Maine.
The truth, they say, is that the state has lost 17,800 manufacturing jobs in the past three years, and that Maine's annual household income of $37,654 is 40th in the nation and falling as the number of Mainers living in poverty has grown.
Donald Johnson, 63, has a 4-by-8-foot "Vote Yes, Casino Resort" sign in his front yard. He lives across the street from where the tribes have bought an option on 362 wooded acres as a potential site for the development.
How, he asks, can people ignore the promise of 10,000 jobs and $100 million in annual revenue to the state? And how can Gov. John Baldacci oppose a casino while the state's traditional manufacturing base disappears?
"I say to Gov. Baldacci, why don't you get on an airplane, go to China and get our jobs back," Johnson said.
Casino opponents and supporters had spent $6.8 million as of the end of September, the most ever spent on a ballot measure in Maine. By the time the election is over, the spending is expected to grow to $8 million to $10 million.
The casino drive is bankrolled by Marnell Corrao Associates, a Las Vegas casino developer that has built some of the nation's most lavish gambling resorts, including the Bellagio and the Mirage in Las Vegas.
Funding for the opposition has come from hundreds of contributors, including Leon Gorman, chairman of L.L. Bean the company and grandson of L.L. Bean himself. Gorman has contributed $270,000 of his own money, and L.L. Bean has given $50,000.
Gorman says Maine stands for the outdoors, perseverance, spiritual values, hard work, integrity, respect and quality workmanship. "There's nothing that stands in opposition to those values more than a gambling casino," he said.
And while he admits that Maine could use an economic jump-start, he points out that Maine's 4.9 percent unemployment rate is far lower than the 6.1 percent national rate.
"They try to make the state of Maine sound like a third-world economy," he said. "And that's not true."
But neither is the wholesome, quintessential image underscored by the slogan that greets visitors on highway signs, "Maine: The Way Life Should Be," according to Howard Segal, a history professor at the University of Maine.
That image was largely fabricated to promote tourism and shield tourists' eyes from the underbelly of the state, he said, noting that visitors are steered away from harsh mill cities and the struggling rural poor.
"Maine, perhaps more than any other state, has this image it promotes," Segal said. "But it's simplistic, it's romantic and it's not factual."
For now, the campaign is fierce as supporters spew out promises of jobs and tax revenues and new opportunity for the Passamaquoddy and Penobscot tribes. Opponents have promises of their own should a casino come to Maine: more crime, more traffic, more social ills. Casino backers, they say, are throwing out false promises.
Because of the 1980 Maine Indian Land Claims Act, the tribes and the casino would not be subject to the federal Indian Gaming Regulatory Act. Instead, a casino in Maine would operate as a commercial casino, like the ones owned by Donald Trump or Harrah's Entertainment Inc.
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