In the spotlight: Frank Pomerleau > Tenacity is appliance mogul’s key

AUGUSTA — Among his miscellany of keepsakes, Frank Pomerleau prizes a 1924 photo of a group of youngsters sitting on the steps of the old Smith School near Bridge Street.

Many of the grammar school students in the photo went on to further education. Pomerleau, then 13, would not join them. His father had relocated from Livermore Falls to Augusta to work at the Cushnoc Paper Co. A year later, Pomerleau was working with his dad.

Papermaker, shoeworker and cotton mill employee, Pomerleau is the kind of man who knows the value of an honest buck derived from back-breaking labor. Two months away from his 82nd birthday, he reigns today as chairman of the board for Frank Pomerleau Inc., one of Maine’s largest family-owned appliance and home furnishings stores.

And that grammar school he never graduated from? Pomerleau bought it for $27,000 in 1970 and tore it to the ground to provide additional parking for his customers.

“I sure didn’t think then that I would be buying that school,” he said, with a toothy grin. “I didn’t have a nickel. We were just as poor as we could be.”

The depression may have been one of the best things that ever happened to Pomerleau. It got him out of the papermaking business and into a series of jobs that brought him into contact with hundreds of working people whose blue-collar jobs evaporated with the decline of Maine’s manufacturing base in the 1970s.

They knew and trusted Frank Pomerleau. Their children and grandchildren trust him, too.

Pomerleau quit punching a factory time card in 1950 after selling the little grocery store he ran when he wasn’t making tissue paper out of pulpwood. He started out in the appliance trade without a business address. In the late 1940s, America was hungry for the new refrigerators that ran with Freon gas. After selling a few units for a businessman from Winthrop, Pomerleau took a trip to Portland, where a major distributor offered him an exclusive on the Crosley line of refrigerators — a very popular brand in its day.

Pomerleau’s problem was that he had no storage or display space, and the would-be appliance salesman was almost out of business until he noticed a number of 4-cubic-foot refrigerators in the distributor’s warehouse. Knowing that most of the grocery stores in central Maine also operated under space limitations, Pomerleau asked for the chance to sell the small freezers to the grocers.

“I went all over to find these grocery stores and I sold those refrigerators — I sold them all,” he said. “When they saw I did that, the distributors gave me the Crosley line. That was a blessing, because Crosley had its shelf in the refrigerator door, which was unheard of at that time. I got the exclusive and I built a bigger place.”

At 38, Pomerleau was just getting started. Working out of a 400-square-foot showroom at State and Laurel streets in Augusta, he would routinely put in 16-hour shifts. He sold refrigerators all day and delivered them personally all night.

He was starting to make money but, like a good poker player, Pomerleau never counted it up while he was engrossed in the game. In fact, the business was just starting to level off when the Korean War broke out.

“I was just going into it for something to do,” he said. “I was selling wringer washers and refrigerators. At one time, refrigerators were hard to get, but they came back. Then with the Korean War, people became afraid there was going to be a scarcity again. I had 50 in my showroom and I stayed late one night and sold them all.”

Sudden wealth might have pushed other businessmen into a fatter lifestyle. Pomerleau never subscribed to that kind of thinking. He reinvested his profits into the company. He was particularly curious about the new black box that came along in the mid-1950s, with an eerie flickering light. It would change forever the way Maine people would pass their evenings. When WABI-TV went on the air, homeowners in the region had a reason to buy a television set.

But there were not a lot of them around.

Pomerleau had somehow gotten an inside track on the General Electric brand. At the time he agreed to pick up the line, he thought his distributor was about as hard up for televisions as everyone else in Maine. He was wrong; the guy had a warehouse full of GEs.

“I happened to hit it just right when I took this gamble with the GE distributor out of Portland,” he said. “I took 15 or 16 and sold them the next day. Then they sent me a truckload. I sold them all. Then, two truckloads and I sold them, too. They were selling something wicked. Channel 5 was a big boost for me.”

Today, Frank Pomerleau Inc. has expanded to 100,000 square feet and increased its staff from one employee to 90, most of whom are full-time with health and pension benefits. Roger Pomerleau, Frank’s son, serves as president of the company and continues his father’s philosophy of putting people and service first. The firm has expanded to include furniture, paint, wallpaper, draperies, flooring and carpeting among its featured sales items.

While other Maine retailers quiver in trepidation of the giant Wal-Mart and Sam’s Club stores currently under construction off Civic Center Drive, about two miles from his showroom, Pomerleau is unconcerned. Roger couldn’t be more sanguine about the newcomers.

“In our case, with respect to home furnishings, we actually look forward to more payroll in the area,” Roger Pomerleau said. We feel that we will probably be selling to Wal-Mart employees.”

Competition was never anything new to Frank Pomerleau. He started out going up against one of the toughest competitors he had ever seen. In fact, he would tell you that, in its prime, the Central Maine Power Co. was about as difficult to outsell as anyone.

“We was in competition with CMP and they were tough,” he said. “They would sell their refrigerators below cost and, believe me, they were selling them,” he said. “Their salesmen sold on commission only and they were very, very aggressive. I had a lot of competition back then.”

Pomerleau not only survived, he thrived. His secret was the oldest one in the book of merchandising: he sold himself before he sold his product.

“These people trusted me and they traded with me,” he said. “So it was easy to work up because of the people I knew. I had good health and my hours made no difference. I enjoyed it then and I still enjoy the few hours I put in each day now.”