Who exactly are the Mainers who drive around in Maine license plates 1-25? Well, let’s see here…

Story By Colin Sargent

It’s a dreary April day, and your first cup of coffee is a bad one. So who the hell is this guy who cuts you off in Maine License Plate # 1 as if he’s got the world by the tail? Who does he think he is?

Well, this guy thinks he’s Gov. Angus King, you discover as you pull up beside him, wave, and slink down in your seat as he continues on his way. And this time, he’s absolutely right.

“It’s traditional for the governor to have Number 1 on one of his private cars,” says Chip Gavin of the Secretary of State’s office.

“Okay, then, who’s got Zero? Who’s cooler than Gov. King?” It must be Toby Mostel, son of the late comedian/artist Zero Mostel, who used to summer in Maine.

“There is no zero,” says Gavin.

“How about Number 2?” I’m looking for the naked Arabic number 2, not some 2 with the letter X or A hiding way over on the sidelines of the plate like a crooked referee.

Number 2 is owned by Evelyn Stinson of Wilton, Maine, who drives around in a 1985 Buick. “My late husband, electrician Howard Stinson, had it for years and years, right from the 1920s,” she says on the telephone. “He was born in New Sharon.”

Number 3 is Tom Saturley of Cape Elizabeth. “Number three tries hardest,” laughs the owner of Auction Properties. “It actually belonged to my father, Howard Saturley. I can’t remember when he first got it. Fortunately, my father had an opportunity to go to Florida and said to me, ‘Geez, I won’t be using this anymore,’ and I loved switching it to my car. I’ve been driving with it 5 years, my father 10 or 15. It is a phenomenal conversation piece. You can’t pull into a parking lot without having someone say ‘Wow, how do you get that license plate?’ I make up a separate story every time, depending on what day of the week and what mood I’m in. I stopped in Bangor one day and a guy with a three-digit number followed me into the restaurant. He said his grandfather had that number on his Packard in the 1920s. When he found out I was only ‘second generation,’ he seemed angry that I’d been lucky enough to have a lower number than he had. He made a point of eating on the far side of the restaurant, as far away from me as possible.” Saturley drives a tan Jeep Grand Cherokee.

Number 4 is Ruth and Rupert White of Brunswick. I only reach their answering machine, but when I do I hear a woman’s voice, presumably Ruth’s, and she sounds a bit like a younger Katharine Hepburn.

Number 5 is Barbara Griswold of Kennebunk Beach. Her answering service leads me to believe that she’s out of town as well. What a delightful name! Doesn’t she sound like someone out of an Agatha Christie novel? “I peered around the corner, and there, slipping the vial of poisoned grenadine back into the glove compartment was Mrs. Griswold!” Yes, but did you get her license plate number?

Number 6 is on Harry and Helen Macomber’s (South Portland) gray Pontiac 6000LE Sedan. I know this because I recently spotted it in the Falmouth Shopping Center Parking lot during the big going-out-of-business sale at Rich’s department store. I thought to have a low license plate meant that you didn’t have to look for sales.

Seven is not Brad Pitt but rather Peter Lunder, president of Dexter Shoe Co. He is good natured about it when I call him. “Let’s put it this way. I feel very fortunate with what’s happened in my life. I’ve had the plate for three or four years. I made a request years ago for a single-digit plate; I didn’t specify which one, but obviously I was delighted to get this one! I do feel it’s a lucky number.” Peter must like prime numbers especially—one of his Dexter telephone numbers ends in 5555. You can see his Number 7 on the back of a 1995 Buick station wagon driving to work each day.

No 8 is not, as I would have guessed, a Carl Yazstremski fan. She doesn’t care about Roger Clemmons leaving the Red Sox either. “It’s been in my husband’s family for the last 35 years or so, but I don’t know why they got it,” says post office worker Maureen Bernard of Yarmouth. “I don’t really pay much attention to it,” she says. “It’s on my white Escort. My husband’s an auto reconditioner. He’s in the hospital right now.”

I am charmed by Meta Rust, Number 9, of York. “I have it because it was given to my husband when John Reed was governor. My husband, Myron, was a state legislator in the 100th and 101st Legislatures, I think.” What party was he from? “The only thing you should be.” She lets me hang for a few seconds. “A Republican! “Some people stop me and ask me the significance of the number,” she laughs. “I simply tell them that I’m the ninth most important person in the state of Maine.”

Numbers 10-25:

10 John Carroll, Warren; 11 Raymond Goss, Ogunquit; 12 William Sprague, Boothbay Harbor; 13 Richard Warren, Bangor; 14 Rosamond Smith, Brunswick; 15 Melvin Winslow, Windham; 16 Stephen Merrill, Brewer; 17 Alton Cianchette, Newport; 18 Leroy Hussey, Jr., Augusta; 19 Ella Payne, Waldoboro; 20 Marion Hood, Lewiston; 21 Leon Chamblee, Jefferson; 22 Richard Trafton, Auburn; 23 George Pride, Falmouth; 24 Dexter Shoe, Dexter; 25 H. Alan Timm, Manchester.

So there you have them, the 25 Maine citizens who’ve gone as low as you can go. Some of them don’t want to talk to us, because they consider it a private affair, but it must be asked of these highway popinjays: “Aren’t you flipping the bird to the rest of us when you drive by with such a low number? Exactly how private is that?”

“It’s just for our friends to see,” the stock answer goes, followed by the unspoken, “Not the rest of you strangers.” But isn’t it like wearing a Kiss-Me-I’m-Irish T-shirt and then being mad each year when St. Patrick’s Day rolls around?

Who are these people, really? And for that matter, who are their friends?

“It would be a mistake to assume that everybody who [covets a low number] necessarily has some unifying personality trait. If there are 25 numbers, you might have 25 different people going after them,” says Dr. Ron Feintech of Coastal Counseling Associates when I call him on the telephone, and by now, it’s hard not to agree. Some are gregarious, others intentionally vague, still others bite like fire ants stirred up in a nest.

The variousness of the plate owners aside, a lot is at stake here. According to an article in the Wall Street Journal, Number 9 was auctioned in Delaware for $185,000. In Rhode Island, Number 7 was sold for a nifty $25,000.

The wondrous thing about Maine is, our plates are issued gratis (or rather, for the standard registration fee everyone pays). “There’s no willing of plates or giving them to a relative or friend,” says Chip Gavin. “It’s not your property to transfer.”

To apply for a low-digit license plate, simply write to Dan Gwadosky, Secretary of State, 148 State House Station, Augusta, Maine 04333-0148. They have a waiting list there (where you must renew annually in writing), which the Secretary reserves the right to overrule whenever he sees fit (the list ((is kept as a courtesy and not by statute”), but once your number comes up, it’s absolutely free.

Note to Gov. King: Could auctioning off Maine’s low numbers help alleviate our budget shortfalls? 

How much would No. 1 bring to your favorite charity’? How much would Zero bring?-Ed.