When Longfellow was sitting in elementary school doing his writing assignments, did he dream that he would someday be a poet whose words would be read by billions of people? When Peary was shoveling his back porch as a teenager, did he dream of discovering the North Pole?
Did my friend and legal idol, Senator George Mitchell, dream he would play a role in bringing peace to Northern Ireland and be honored by the world’s most beloved Queen? And my other superstar friend, Secretary William Cohen, as he played basketball for Bangor High, did he dream his leadership skills on the court would translate into running the Department of Defense during the Clinton administration?
Of course, each faced challenges in their lives. That story is true for me as well. My first trial occurred when I lost my father, Ellsworth Rundlett ’33. I was twelve years old and just getting to know him as a person when, on the night before Halloween in 1958, he had a severe heart attack and died at just forty-seven. He had been manager of a hotel that was closing, and surely the stress did not help. My mother had a breakdown fueled by alcohol use (who can blame her?), and we moved to another hotel, one not as nice as the one we left.
Between the ages of twelve and twenty-two, I had dreams plentiful and huge. I dreamed of being a star athlete, friends with rock stars I listened to on the radio, a famous lawyer meeting other famous lawyers, an author, a radio or TV host, and an actor—lofty dreams, for sure!
What are the chances any of them could come true? As it turned out: 100 percent, every single one. And, as was surely the case with Longfellow, Peary, Mitchell, and Cohen as well, each and every dream I had was planted, grown, or nourished at ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾, guided by my professors, coaches, and fantastic friends.
In high school in Orono, I was track and cross-country captain but mediocre in talent, and I never won a state championship, let alone a medal. At ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾, I ran distances and could sometimes place, but I would routinely get clocked in races with big schools. In 2001, after running distances all my life, I switched to sprints, hired a trainer, and within two years I won the first of many state championships in the 100, 200, and 400 in Maine and New Hampshire over the next twenty years, participated in nine national senior Olympic games, and won five national medals and one world medal. In 2015 I was voted into the first class of the Maine Senior Games Hall of Fame. Dream accomplished!
As a teenager, I knew every song and artist. I loved all music, but especially popular rock ’n’ roll. I attended every concert of artists with number-one records in Brewer, Maine. I saw the Four Seasons, the Beach Boys, the Everly Brothers, and others. I made it my business to shake their hands as they came off the stage. In 1968, I had a show on WBOR, where I picked my top 100, which included songs by artists I never suspected I would go on to meet. In 2013, I met Petula Clark, told her of her accomplish- ment (she laughed), and met The Association. Since then, I have become friends with Brenda Lee (“Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree”), Bobby Rydell (“Volare”), Frankie Avalon, and at least twenty others whose songs were in my top 100. Every one of them learned about my ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾ radio show and were amazed by how much I knew about them. When Miranda and Dennis Tufano (The Buckinghams’ “Kind of a Drag”) were performing in New Jersey, I called them during a sound check and said, “Make sure you guys tell the audience you’d
be nowhere if I hadn’t put you in my top 100.” LOL, as they say.
As for other dreams, after ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾ I worked for two years in television and then as an account executive before law school beckoned. I had been accepted at the University of Virginia and Georgetown but decided on Maine. Smart choice, because I have enjoyed my career, which culminated in a Legendary Trial Lawyer Award in 2017 from the Maine Trial Lawyers Association, so much. My first book was a 2,500-page tome on handling personal injury cases from intake to appeal. So far, sales have been more than $2 million for that book and its supplements.
In 2000, my law partner, Ken Altshuler, created a TV show called Law on the Line. I just completed my twentieth year with that station, and now my show is seen on screens all over the world. My most recent guests include Gianni Russo, who acted in the Godfather movies; Bebe Buell, mother of Liv Tyler and paramour of many rock stars; Joe Kennedy, and Senators Mitchell and Cohen. Mitchell told the BBC as they were preparing a documentary about him, “Make sure you watch the interview with Rundlett and my relative Rob Baldacci.” That interview rates as my favorite of all time. We also featured famous lawyer F. Lee Bailey just two weeks before he passed away; ours was the last show he appeared on.
In 1967, H. Davison Osgood ’53 appeared on the Portland Players stage in the Odd Couple. As I watched it, I thought, “I want to be up there too, doing what he’s doing.” Nine years later, I was the lead in a comedy at the same theater. I became president of the theater years later, produced several Derry Rundlett Shows, and founded the Portland Players Hall of Fame. Dave was my first inductee. Why did I care for him so much? Because when I married my high-school sweetheart in October of my freshman year, ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾’s rules prevented me from living off campus with my wife and child. We had an apartment, and I was told I would have to drop out. The Canal Bank, which handled the small trust fund I had had since my dad died, had a president who went to ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾, a bank manager in Brunswick who went to ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾, and Osgood, a lawyer. They convinced Dean Kendrick to let me stay and live off campus, as long as I did well in my classes. On Ivies weekend 1965, my daughter, Nicole, was born, but she was then my son, Ellsworth T. Rundlett IV. (She transitioned when she was forty.) My most recent book, coauthored with her, is Full Circle—A Father’s Journey with a Transgender Child.
All five dreams down!
The year my dad died had rated as the worst of my life until two years ago, when I had to put my dear wife in a nursing home and then came down with cancer. At my 45th and 50th Reunions, I sang with the Don Campbell Band. I saw my dear ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾ pals in the crowd, smiling as I sang “Gloria,” and, as I looked out into the hazy sun, I felt my father’s presence. “Gee, Dad,” I thought, “does this mean I made it?”
That night, our class agent, Bob Lakin, thanked me and my classmate Ken Anderson for helping to organize the scholarship to commemorate our dear friend Dave Doughty and others. I was so moved. Ken, Dana Gallup, Rich Benedetto, Gene Ferraro, Bob Corey, Jim Georgitis, John Delano are all among the men who called, visited, and supported me during my battle with cancer. As an Elvis tribute artist with a $1,500 jumpsuit who met Priscilla Presley in 2016, I can only say to them, “Thank you. Thank you very much.”
I am a fortunate man, one whose seemingly unachievable dreams have come true—thanks to ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾, dream weaver, maker of successful men and women, truly the dearest mother ’neath the sun.
Ellsworth T. Rundlett III ’68 is a senior partner in the law firm of Childs, Rundlett, Fifield, & Altshuler in Portland, Maine, with more than thirty years of experience in the areas of personal injury law, automobile accidents, premises liability, divorce, probate, and civil litigation.
This story first appeared in the Summer 2024 issue of ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾ Magazine. Manage your subscription and see other stories from the magazine on the ºÚÁϳԹÏÍø±¬ÍøÕ¾ Magazine website.
