Uncle Henry's Guide Outclasses Its Rivals In Classified Advertising
AUGUSTA, Maine - The show was canceled when the King died, but tickets are still available to the August 1977 Elvis Presley concert in Portland, Maine. One in mint condition is priced at $1,600.
Too expensive?
Try calling Sherry Salisbury in Canaan. She's selling a ticket for just $300, if you don't mind the diagonal line indicating returned for a refund after Elvis died.
The decades-old tickets, along with skis, tractors, cattle- just about anything imaginable - can be found each week in Uncle Henry's Weekly Swap or Sell it Guide.
With about 10,000 classified ads, Uncle Henry's is without peer in Maine. At $1.50 a copy, the magazine is sold at convenience stores throughout the state, even in the State House snack bar for lawmakers, lobbyists and state workers. The magazine reaches from much of New England to parts of New Brunswick, Canada.
Circulation has grown from 10,000 to 40,000 or 50,000 since editor Justin Henry Sutton's family bought the publication 15 years ago. The secret to Uncle Henry's success? There is no secret, insists Sutton: "It's just a damn good idea."
Sutton can attest best: He and his wife found a house, Jeep, Harley-Davidson motorcycle, and their dog and cat in its pages.
Just about everyone in Maine seems to have bought or sold something through Uncle Henry's during its nearly three decades of publication.
For Sherry Salisbury of Canaan, the Elvis keepsakes aren't the only treasures she has negotiated through the magazine. "I do a lot of volume," she says, citing collectible toys and figurines bought and sold. "I've done good with them."
Just as in most newspaper want ads, items like used cars and trucks, real estate, electronics and appliances fill most of each week's 300-or-so pages. But with Uncle Henry's, shoppers and browsers get a taste of Maine life not found in most big-city classifieds.
Harry Pratt of Bucksport placed an ad offering to trade his 1972 Cadillac coupe for a Brunswick pool table. Though the car, he says, is in excellent condition, he had trouble selling it. So he tried a swap.
He's turned practical: "I'd use a pool table a lot more than I'd use a Cadillac." And he's hopeful. At least two Brunswick pool tables are for sale in the same issue. A swap? "It's just a thought," Pratt suggests.)
In that same issue, a woman in North Yarmouth offered gift certificates for Italian lessons, while a couple in Bar Harbor tried to unload Italian courses on tape. Other sellers hawked items of all sizes, from Beanie Babies and baseball cards to old canoes and lobster boats.
Uncle Henry's devotes entire sections to livestock, firearms, snowmobiles and auto-racing equipment. In the past, ads have appeared for a personal submarine and a 1,500-year-old mummy. But did they sell? Sutton doesn't know.
Such oddities and ends have been good to the Suttons and their 22 employees.
Last spring, Uncle Henry's moved to larger quarters, more than tripling its space to 4,600 square feet. Despite the shift down Eastern Avenue, Uncle Henry's held onto its down-home-iness. And Sutton, the editor, held on to his work boots and faded jeans.
Even though Sutton's father, Joseph Henry, owns Uncle Henry's, and his brother, Jason Henry, also works there, the persistence of middle-name "Henrys" has nothing to do with the magazine's title. "Just coincidence," assures Sutton. The family bought the magazine from the original Henry.
A World Wide Web site is planned at www.unclehenrys.com