Lionel Dubay’s career path was classic. First you do the job and then you get the job.
That and having the right mentor pushed Dubay into his role as director of the Augusta (Maine) Civic Center when it opened in 1972.
In 1970, Augusta City Manager Paul Poulin hired Lionel Dubay, who was freshly graduated from college, as his first full-time recreation director. A year later, the city started construction of the 7,200-seat civic center, a bold move on the part of the visionary Poulin. Most cities the size of Augusta, with its 20,000 population, had armories, if anything. Not arenas.
Three or four months after arena construction started, Poulin popped his head in Dubay’s office.
Are you busy? I’m going up to the civic center construction site. I was wondering if you’d like to join me?
“Sure.”
It’s the middle of winter. The concrete flooring and utility conduit had been run, but “all you see is a huge slab of concrete,” Dubay said.
They go into the construction trailer, where Poulin looks over the plans with the architect and construction manager and Dubay takes a seat to the side, staying out of the way. “I just sat there and listened.”
Back at his recreation director office, Poulin further engages Dubay:
“Lionel, we have a meeting every Thursday morning. Why don’t you put that on your calendar?”
Visits to the construction site became a weekly outing. Next, Poulin hands Dubay a letter from the Maine State Grand Chapter of the Order of the Eastern Star. They were interested in holding their state convention in Augusta.
“Would you reply to them for me?”
“Sure.”
“You might want to go over to Bunder Savage, the architect, and have him go over the plans and facility with you so you know what you’re talking about when you respond.”
Ed Millet was the architect.
“You might want to tell Ed also that we’re going to need some floor plans and layouts in various configurations.”
Millet shared the needed information on meeting rooms, main arena and seats. Dubay wrote the letter.
“Every inquiry that came in from that point on was given to me and I would answer them. I set up a calendar for the new arena,” Dubay said.
That summer, involvement escalated again.
“I have to do a radio interview about the civic center. Would you join me? I might be asked a question about what we have booked.”
What’s the question Poulin was asked that stands out in Dubay’s mind?
“Mr. Poulin, with all your duties as a city manager, who is helping you and handling getting the building open and doing the bookings?”
“The acting director, Lionel Dubay.”
“That’s when I learned I was acting director,” Dubay said. “But it gets better…”
Four of eight City Council seats were up for election that November. During campaigning, the civic center came up and, specifically, who should be running it. Some felt they needed an experienced venue director or one with a marketing background or business experience. The city manager stalled on advertising the position. The building was close to being done.
The first event was high school basketball in early December.
“Lionel, we will be opening the building in a month. I think you should move your office up there. If you want to take your secretary with you, that’s your call.”
So Dubay, still recreation director, and his secretary, moved.
Finally, the city manager was forced to advertise the position. “I was already up there. We were doing some events. They interviewed several candidates, including me.”
In January, the civic center hosted the largest trade show in the state, the Maine State Agricultural Show. It involved 28 affiliate organizations from apple growers to cattlemen’s associations to sheep breeders, all holding ancillary meetings during this trade show.
“I was working these ungodly hours,” he recalls of his time as a young acting director.
The Mayor asked the city manager to put his appointment for civic center director on the Council agenda in January. Poulin put Dubay’s name up for director. After a lot of conversation, the vote came in — 4 to 4.
The mayor calls for more discussion then another vote. 4 to 4. A third time. 4 to 4.
Frustrated, the Mayor broke the tie, casting his vote for Dubay, siding with the city manager because the arena director would be the city manager’s employee and the success of the project would be his responsibility.
“I went into the job with a 5 to 4 vote,” Dubay recalls – not exactly a strong vote of confidence.
“The city manager called me after the meeting and asked if I’d be around a little bit. He wanted to share with me what happened,” Dubay said.
“From opening night, I had had some liquor in my file cabinet – a bottle of Old Grand Dad he drank and Canadian Club that I drank. I got some ice and I had it ready for him.”
“You know, Lionel, I’m sure it’s disappointing you did not get the full backing of the Council, but you have to look at where those votes were coming from. One of them owns and runs his own business and felt someone with a business background was fair. Also, keep in mind the Council, they come and they go. Over a period of time, you can overcome that vote, because you will stay here the longest.”
“I’m going to offer you the job for $12,700. I budgeted a $100,000 loss the first year. If this doesn’t work out, you have to understand I’m going to have to make a tough decision. Why don’t you think about it? You can stay in Recreation. You’ve proven yourself. There’s only one other job in this state for you that’s better than this one and that’s Recreation. But I’m going to share with you that this is going to be a new profession that comes along. You’re going to see more and more of these facilities being built. You will have a bright future down the road if you are successful at it.”
Dubay already realized Poulin was an incredible visionary, risking his job to promote the building of an arena and conference center in a small town in the early 70s. He also had the vision of leasing some of the space in the back of the building to the University of Maine-Augusta; and then placing the building outside of the city proper in an undeveloped area with a goal of developing that area to enhance the tax base. “It was very risky and then, to put it in the hands of this young kid…,” Dubay marvels.
Dubay and his wife had just welcomed a baby girl and a mortgage into the mix. “Here I am with a new home with a mortgage and I’m going to take this job and, if it fails, I’m out on my ass.”
“Think about it. I need to get back to the Council as soon as possible if you decide not to take it.”
The next day, Dubay took the job. “It was the best decision I ever made. It was a lot of hard work, but it was a future.”
“I also have to tell you, if I couldn’t get your vote through, I had a backup and I was going to pay him $15,000.”
Dubay knew the backup – Wayne McCary, who ended up running the Cumberland County Civic Center in Portland, Maine, and The Big E in Springfield, Mass. He never talked to McCary about it.
Dubay’s career in venue management took off after that inauspicious start. Poulin had not led him astray. He continued to teach Dubay many lessons about business and relationships.
“You have to have thick skin. You’re busting your hump. I was doing two jobs. They didn’t fill the recreation job through that whole thing. I had to keep those programs going and help the city manager with the building. When someone doesn’t give you that vote of confidence, it bothers you. He kept saying, ‘Lionel, you do a good job, you will outlive them.’”
One other lesson learned: “Any time I see Term Limits on a ballot, I vote for it.” — Based on a true story as told to Linda Deckard.
PHOTO: Lavar Smith, Lynda Reinhart, Cherie and Lionel Dubay and the late, great Joe Floreano. (Courtesy of Venues Today)