You Can Go Home Again

It hit me one day in 2005 walking up Eighth Avenue on my way to work at NEWSWEEK. During my bus ride from New Jersey, I'd been reading the online edition of the Portland Press Herald, the paper from my hometown in Portland, Maine. For months I'd been following the story of a local landmark diner, closed for several years, that was being sold by the city to someone with a plan to bring it back to life. That morning, I read that the pending deal had fallen through. And somewhere during my walk from 42nd Street to 57th Street, I decided to buy it.

Since then I've traveled thousands of miles back and forth from New Jersey to Portland, endured countless meetings, filed numerous applications—and today, I find myself the proud owner of the newly reopened Miss Portland Diner.

Why would a successful executive give up a 31-year publishing career to open a diner in Maine? It's a question I've heard many times lately. It's especially relevant because although I'm 55 years old, I still have four young daughters who'll require financial support for years to come. Add in the fact that a very high percentage of restaurant startups fail within the first year, and that I'm reopening during a serious economic crisis, and the whole project may sound a bit dubious.

Part of the urge to do this stems from sentimentality. I'm someone who never lost touch with where I came from. I grew up a half mile from the diner, and for 35 years my parents ran a tavern not far away, serving beer, sandwiches and daily specials. And although I was hardly a regular, I remember eating at the Miss Portland diner a few times as a teenager. I left Portland in 1977, but I've continued to be intrigued by how this old industrial seaport has been transformed into an inspiring, upbeat place.

I was also seeking to escape what had become the ultimate rat race. After years at the same job, one day began blurring into the next—it was the same endless cycle of early mornings, late nights, long commutes and little time left to do all of the things we all wish we had more time for. I wanted to control my own schedule, my success and my sanity.

As I thought about how Portland would react to the reopening of the diner, I recalled the renovation of the old Portland Observatory. As kids, we used to stare up at the observatory, dreaming of the view from the top. But we were never able to ascend because the stairs were broken. In 1975, the city began restoring the observatory. On my next trip to Portland I finally made the climb and experienced a view much better than I had ever imagined as a kid. I envisioned residents who held fond memories of the diner reacting the same way when it reopened.