WHERE DO YOU LIVE? WHAT IS THE TOWN MAGGIE GREW UP IN LIKE? IS IT A SMALL TOWN? We've lived in Watertown, NY since she was ten years old -a community of about 30,000 people located 30 miles south of Canada. Although it's a growing community, it has retained its small town heart. It's the kind of place where your neighbor still smiles at you and people take an interest in your well being.

WHAT WAS MAGGIE'S LIFE LIKE BEFORE SHE BECAME A MODEL WITH ELITE? Maggie was always a good student and has a variety of interests. In high school, she was an avid field hockey player, a member of the high school band, a photo buff, and on the yearbook staff. In addition to all that, she enjoys horseback riding, snow skiing, ice-skating, rollerblading, and she's always loved to swim, water-ski, and be in the warm sun. Her room has been plastered with Beatles posters since grade school and their music has always reverberated from both her room and her car.

THEN WHAT HAPPENED? Until June of '97 this was the status quo. Life for Maggie revolved around family, friends, and school. At that point, her (now) close friend and booker, Louis Chaban from Elite models, encouraged her to go to New York for the summer to give modeling a shot. It all started when her graduation pictures came out after her senior year in high school. Watertown is a small town and the graduating class pictures are displayed in the local mall and movie theaters. People look at them to see whose child is graduating. All of a sudden, John and I had friends coming up to us at the oddest places telling us we should get Maggie into modeling. Teachers were telling Maggie at school that she should look into it and some of my dearest friends were hounding me about the subject.

One day, one of her teachers gave her Ford Modeling Agency's address. For awhile it got lost in my piles of paperwork. I came across it one day and asked her if she would mind if I sent her picture into Ford. "Modeling," I told her, "could put her through college and graduate school." She didn't mind as long as I put in a picture taken by a friend of hers in her photography class. I couldn't stand the picture. It was one of those sullen deadpan pictures that reminded me of a Holocaust victim. Depressing. Sad. Devoid of the bubbly happy things Maggie reminded me of --but I sent it. Good thing. Two days later, a woman from Ford called and it was this picture that she mentioned, not the bright and smiling ones. I agreed that the next time we went to visit my sisters on Staten Island that we would be in to see her.

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