FREDERICK M. FINNEMORE
New Castle, Maine - Frederick Merle Finnemore died on December 7, 2018. He was born January 11th, 1938 up in Caswell Plantation, Maine; one of seven children in an Aroostook County potato farming family. From the very beginning he loved to create. At 16, he left home and traveled south to the big city; attending Tufts University in the Engineering apprentice program. Slide rule in hand he then headed up to the University of New Hampshire and earned his B.S. degree in Mechanical Engineering. Once he knew how to make the ideas in his head come to life, he was asked to serve his country. He joined the Army, and was assigned to the Atomic Energy Commission in Washington, D.C.. As a Specialist Fifth Class, he received a Commendation for Meritorious Service for his work during the early 60’s and...
Fred, never seen without his pocket protector, mechanical pencils, and micro metal ruler, joined General Electric, then Polaroid in Massachusetts. At Polaroid, Fred worked on the evolution of the instamatic camera. He holds over 150 patents, but a family favorite is the little rubber eye piece you’ll remember on any 1970’s era instant camera- the piece that cupped your eye socket so you didn’t poke the viewfinder in your eyeball. Good call. He made a home with his wife Nancy Hall in North Reading, MA, living there for close to 3 decades. He then “retired” busier than ever, to Jefferson, Maine in 1995 with his family, enjoying their farm on Damariscotta Lake for almost twenty years. He downsized when the farm was placed under a conservation easement and became an artists’ retreat for the Maine Farmland Trust.
Over the years, Fred’s inventive mind led him from Tabor to Vicor, Insulet to private consulting; to design parts, pieces and entire projects; patenting them collaboratively and individually. With pen and 3x5 cards in hand, he would stop a conversation to illustrate a point visually. Every number, every letter was written in precise draftsman’s style. Fred’s career led him to celebrate a true entrepreneurial spirit. He occasionally joined a leap-of-faith, hang-on-Myrtle-we’re-headed-for-the-rhubarb, buckle-up-buttercup business when an idea had wings. He really believed in possibility.
Fred was who you talked to when you had an idea. He could take it from dream to 3-D in the blink of an eye. Want to make a kayak propulsion system that works like a whale’s tail- sure, he’s your man. How about an pump that a patient could wear that tests glucose painlessly, assesses sugar levels then delivers precisely the right amount of insulin- no problem. At any moment, he would sit down, mechanical pencil in hand and sketch out the plans for a kitchen, the blueprints to a power converter or the intricate workings of a better mousetrap.