Sign of the Sun:
A Unique Boutique
by Michelle Troutman

"It's kind of interesting to think that I've sort of been instrumental in spreading 'Sign of the Sun-ness' all over the area," says business owner Frederick Ruder. "There's very few houses around here that don't have something from here in them, somewhere. It's kind of like the rays of the sun dappling the landscape."

From the second floor of a brick building at 22 Silver St., Sign of the Sun shines over the downtown. A visit to the boutique evokes late 1960s San Francisco chic, a unique mix of flower power with a modern twist. Amid high ceilings, brick walls, pipes, and hardwood floors, its inventory and decor form a retro rainbow of color: earrings, necklaces, figurines, rings, and stones, incense, and everything from tapestries to tie-dyed t-shirts, bags to baby doll tops, buttons, cards, candles, and crystals. Inside a jewelry case, among dead butterflies and other winged insects under glass sits a black scorpion facing a tarantula, atop the monster movie style caption "Tarantula vs. Scorpion."

Ruder says he "scrounges and scrapes" everywhere for merchandise, comparing it to beachcombing, pouring over catalogs, visiting trade shows, reading magazines, and examining tags on interesting items. He and his staff effectively decorate 7,000 square feet of selling space. "I tend to deal in broad strokes, and they deal in specific strokes." Floor Manager Jim Egerton created much of the distinctive decor, such as the 3-D wood carvings, painted windows, murals, cut-outs, and a surround of a sun, moon, and clouds over the mirror next to the dressing rooms.

Ruder's father was a naval officer, so the family moved every year or two, from the east coast, where Ruder was born in Key West, Florida, to the west coast and to Europe. After a semester at The U.S. Naval Academy, and graduating from the University of Rochester with a degree in English literature, he took an office job in San Francisco for about a year. "The reason I got out of the academy, and the reason I don't work for somebody else is, I have this problem with questioning authority." Of the office job, he says, "It was awful. Nobody was the slightest bit interested in doing good work. All it was was one-upmanship, backstabbing; they weren't interested in getting a good job done. They were more interested in the pecking order. That's why, actually, when I was in college, my prof said, you know, logically, you would go on to become a college professor. You would have no trouble with it from any aspect at all, except that being a college professor is 90 percent politics, and you're lousy at politics. And I said, 'Hey, I got to agree with you there.'"

He supported himself through college making leather items, belts and sandals. From then on, Ruder's business career rose as steadily as the sun. In 1970, he set up shop selling leather goods in Middlebury, Vermont. Finding the atmosphere of the people too stuffy, he moved to the more down-to-earth climes of Waterville, Maine. He named the business after its 8 Silver St. address, now the location of the Last Unicorn restaurant. In the process, he garned an SBA-guaranteed loan through a local bank, and took out and paid back commercial loans every two to three years. "I got to say that was one point where my English degree came in very nicely, because I write great loan proposals."

As 8 Silver St. expanded, he transitioned into retail, "and it just sort of gradually snowballed." He laughs as he recalls, "At some point, I was no longer an artist/craftsman, I was a factory worker -- a factory of one. After about the 10,000th belt, I said, 'I'm not going to do this for 30 more years.'" By 1977, the business had outgrown its 400 square feet and moved upstairs to 18 ½ to 22 Silver Street. The original business sign had a sunburst behind the logo, so Ruder simply decided to change the name to Sign of the Sun. When Steego Auto Parts left 24 Silver St., the business expanded into that room. "They'd kill for space like that down in the big city, whereas up here, people said <affects nasal voice>, 'second floor -- you can't do anything up there.' They were wrong. More expert advice that was wrong."

At the time Ruder arrived, the Waterville area economy was booming, fueled by large mills and retail stores. The Scott Paper Mill in Winslow, Cascade Woolen Mill in Oakland, the Hathaway Shirt Company, and Keyes Fibre (now Huhtamaki) employed thousands. The cash registers of downtown Waterville department stores Dunham's, Sterns, Butler's, and Levine's still rang up sales. Nowadays, Ruder remains perplexed at the city's slow recovery after their departures. "Waterville is a really interesting town, and it's always surprised me that it hasn't done more than it has because it's got the college, it's got the hospital, it's got the lakes, it's right on the highway. I don't understand why it isn't a hub of prosperity. Obviously, we lost about 5,000 manufacturing jobs in the last 10 or 15 years. That didn't help us any. But still, you know, I'm hesitant to point fingers, but I don't think that the local government has really worked in the best interests of the city."

Despite his success and the many hats he has worn, Ruder believes he doesn't have a particular talent. "I can go up on the roof and change a fuse, but I can't draw a human face if I had to, and I can't carry a tune on an instrument, although, I did used to sing second tenor in the naval academy choir."

He still takes a hands-on role in the day-to-day management and advertising, including shooting his own TV commercials and writing his own Web site copy. "I'm pretty much on-call continuously, in case there are any human resource problems. If somebody is sick or can't come through, I'm kind of the emergency back-up crew for floor coverage. And when I'm waiting around for that, I pay all the bills, and I do all the paychecks. I keep track of the spending, and give the members of the different departments their budgets, and monitor levels of different inventories, and suggest spending patterns, and that sort of thing."

Ruder emphasizes his staff and his store offer customers a warm, human alternative to the mass-produced merchandise and clinical clerks at the box stores, through their knowledge of the products and their ability to cater to requests. "The biggest difference we have from them is that the people out there -- actually working the floors -- they do the buying. I mean, I dabble in it, I assist them, but they have the contact with the public, and they do the buying. Very, very few organizations do it that way. Certainly, none of the big boxes do by any means. Most of their essential buying is done by a central office in the Midwest or some place."

Lanky, his white hair, beard, and mustache framing rosy cheeks, Ruder smiles as he describes his experiences running one of the few individual owned and operated Waterville businesses still open after 37 years. "I basically built the perfect job for myself, which fits me like a glove. It's more like a paid hobby than a business. And, in fact, I seem to have a knack for it -- it's really great." An ability to learn from mistakes and to look on the bright side has helped him throughout his career. "Even with my leather work, I'd be cutting something, and go, 'Whoops! the piece is destroyed.' Then I'd say, 'Wait a minute -- if we do this, this, and this it actually comes out looking really cool.' And then it would turn into a specialist piece instead of a piece of junk," says Ruder. "I didn't have any bad situations, I just had great opportunities."

Having lived a lifetime in business, Ruder jokes that his goal is "to achieve balance until my final mis-step." In his office, above the computers, the printers, and the papers, is a gallery of family photos showing what he believes is his greatest achievement. The father of four adult children, he lovingly describes each picture, such as his eldest son's success as a top 10 cross-country runner and his youngest daughter's role in a school play. "My last child is about to complete her last year of college. And that's four of them that I've put through, so I figure anybody that can afford to put four kids through has done well enough."

Sign of the Sun is open Mondays through Saturdays from 10am to 5pm. To find out more, and to see more pictures and virtual tours of "The Big Room" and "The Cool Room" visit www.signofthesun.com.

Visit the Meet Me Downtown home page to read our other business profiles.