Building a dream, literally> Brooks boxer works from the ground up to construct a gym he can call his own

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BROOKS – It is an old, empty warehouse that has allowed Derek Levasseur to dream, a building constructed in the 1920s to store potatoes when the Belfast and Moosehead Railroad delivered the produce to Boston and New York.

Now Levasseur hopes the warehouse will help deliver him to Boston and New York.

The large, dusty storehouse lies off a dirt road in Brooks. The broken and burned buildings that lead to it are unnerving. But since Levasseur painted the front of the warehouse, rebuilt a fourth of it and added a window, the old barn brightens the lot and Levasseur hopes it will light up his future.

Three months ago, Levasseur ran into his landlord, Jim Shue, soon after Levasseur and his wife, Kelly, moved to Brooks. In a country store, Levasseur mentioned his dream, and Shue mentioned the warehouse. Soon the two began to work together, each injecting enthusiasm into the other.

“He told me, `I am determined to become a champion boxer and I have to find a place where I can work out,’ ” Shue recalled. “I said, `I’ve got a warehouse, maybe you can go down and check it out.’ It was a quick move. He saw it and said, `I can run the miles back and forth from my house to the warehouse.’ ”

Suddenly, the battered old barn seemed a palace and the six small bouts Levasseur had fought seemed a worthwhile investment.

Levasseur, 23, talks of igniting in Maine the enthusiasm for boxing that existed when Joey Gamache was fighting.

“I will try to influence more kids. It’s waning wicked fast. Not around anymore,” Levasseur said. “It seemed like boxing was in Skowhegan, Bangor, Lewiston, Portland. Now it’s just in Lewiston.”

Joey Gamache Sr., who runs Gamache Boxing Club at the Lewiston Armory, agreed boxing was not thriving in Maine as it once was, but Gamache Sr. said to keep it going fighters have to go to the shows. Levasseur will have to prove he’s committed in the ring before Gamache Sr. will believe it.

“They’re not showing up like they used to. Take Derek as an example. There have been two shows, I haven’t seen him at any,” Gamache Sr. said. “It’s pretty simple. If the guy wants to be a boxer, there are plenty of shows in New Hampshire and Massachusetts, in Old Orchard, I put them on in Lewiston.”

The lure of Lewiston

Levasseur said that as a junior in high school, he would travel from Benton to Lewiston to watch fighters such as Joey Gamache, wondering if he could one day fight as well.

Levasseur said he had only seen Gamache fight on TV. And he himself had only fought in six small bouts. Local town fights.

But the 5-foot-10, 162-pound Levasseur, who would slip out of his parents’ house to train at the Gamache Boxing Club in Lewiston, grew addicted.

“I’d tell my mother I was going one, two nights a week. I was going every night. I’d lie and say I was going to visit my brother in Waterville,” Levasseur said. “I was forever making up stories so I could box, which isn’t good because it’s lying. She knows the truth now.”

Levasseur said what inevitably held him back was having to work 12-hour days as a painter with work taking him to Camden and Belfast. He had no time to drive the extra hour to Lewiston to train.

The senior Gamache, who runs the gym in the basement of the Lewiston Armory, recalls seeing Levassuer, but not very much or in recent years.

“He’s not a bad-looking boxer, but he didn’t fight for me,” Gamache Sr. said. “I teach every kid down here. I thought he wasn’t bad. But he didn’t continue to show up. One time one week, then I wouldn’t see him for a while. I remember him, but he didn’t stay.”

When Levasseur met trainer Dennis O’Brien in Belfast through work a year ago, he said O’Brien got him thinking. Levasseur decided to move closer to Belfast to train with O’Brien.

Levasseur figured if he could find other interested boxers to join him in renting space for a ring in the Belfast area, the sport would have a chance to grow, and he would have a place to train. But after two years of searching and getting turned away, Levasseur found only cynicism.

“Everybody wanted $800-$1,000 to rent,” Levasseur said. “Usually when I’d tell them what I wanted the space for, they’d say they don’t like boxing for one. A lot think it’s a violent sport.”

When Shue offered Levasseur the warehouse, the boxer started to dream again. The warehouse is two miles from Levasseur’s home, O’Brien is a drive away in Belfast, and Levasseur’s brother and sparring partner, Scott, lives in Brooks. The pieces started to fall together.

O’Brien, who did not want to be interviewed for this story, came highly touted by Gamache Sr. Hearing about Levasseur’s homemade gym and his trainer, Gamache Sr. said Levasseur had the ingredients necessary to become a professional boxer.

“Dennis is a good man. He’s a former fighter. His son, D.J., is a heck of a good little fighter. D.J. can show Derek a lot,” Gamache Sr.said.

Kelly Levasseur said the warehouse is what opened the door. Without it, she wasn’t sure if her husband would have gone after his dream. Now he talks of winning his first fight within 18 months.

“Jim donated the warehouse and Derek felt that could help. To be honest, we don’t have much money. We couldn’t rent a place. Jim wasn’t using it,” Kelly Levasseur said. “I think thinks he has something now. Before he didn’t have anything.”

Lord of the ring

Brooks is far from the hustle of Lewiston, but Levasseur likes the peaceful contrast. The sound of children playing replaces the noise of trucks and traffic.

The town that lies 10 miles north of Belfast is secluded, but friendly. Levasseur said the small-townness of the place fuels the intensity he needs to pursue his goal.

“It’s an upgrade from a big city,” Levasseur said. “You live in New York, New York, the crime is higher. In Brooks, Maine, it’s lower. There is no city noise. There are no tractor-trailers going by. It’s the perfect country town.”

On the way into Brooks, right before the railroad tracks, a jagged, dirt road leads to Levasseur’s gym.

The road goes by a dilapidated warehouse, then a gutted, burned building with old tires and a yellow police line hanging off it. But just up over the hill things brighten.

Set back beside the tracks is Shue’s warehouse. Its sides are a faded gray, but the front is now a dark reddish brown since its new tenant painted it. The structure is 100 feet long, 50 feet wide and symbolic of Levasseur’s quest: as large and airy as an unfulfilled dream.

Levasseur put in a floor and partitioned off one end of the warehouse with a new wall. The midsection is still empty and open, providing a view of the vast cellar below.

While Levasseur paid for the floor boards and the sheeting on the 14-foot walls, he didn’t have to pay for much more. Shue bought the paint, the window, and the front door. The real estate owner also promises to provide a furnace for next winter and have electricity installed.

The ring, the gym bags, and weights are supplied by O’Brien, but Shue’s generosity is what boggles Levasseur.

“I don’t know his intentions,” Levasseur mused in the dark gym one afternoon. “He has a few young kids and a few older kids who are real successful. I think he likes to see people succeed. He hasn’t pushed me. His contributions are donations. And I’ve upgraded the place for him.”

Shue is familiar with youth athletic dreams. His son, Andrew, was an All-American soccer player at Dartmouth and played for the professional Los Angeles Galaxy. His son, John, played for Harvard. Shue said Levasseur’s dedication, hard work, and youthful exuberance have inspired him to help the cause.

“He is a strong kid. My sense is, you and I are at the beginning of someone who has tremendous potential,” Shue said. “It’s a rare occasion. To go out and build his own ring. I’ve watched a lot of people with ambition. I have a sense this kid is really serious. If he is going to all the trouble to build that ring, he is dedicated.”