It’s still a mystery in N.H. Who won the big jackpot?
MERRIMACK, N.H. — One after another, they paraded into Reeds Ferry Market on Monday, a steady stream of Sam Safa’s loyal customers. All focused on an odds-defying, life-altering mystery.
The winning Powerball ticket drawn Saturday night had been sold in this neighborhood store, carrying a jackpot of $560 million. But as of Monday evening, the winner had not claimed the prize, fueling runaway speculation and putting residents on high alert for any clues, gossip, or tidbits of information that might unmask the newly minted half-a-billionaire.
“Were you the lucky one?’’ Safa asked again and again, a broad smile creasing his face.
“No, not me. But I’m happy for you, Sam,’’ came a favorite reply. Safa will receive $75,000 for selling the winning ticket.
More than 80 percent of Safa’s patrons live in or near Merrimack, a bedroom community of about 25,000. So the odds were pretty good that someone local had become fabulously wealthy in the blink of an eye.
“I can’t believe that is the one time I didn’t come here to buy it,’’ Meghan Desrosiers said of the Powerball game. “I’ve been looking through Facebook, seeing who’s on and who has been off it, trying to figure it out.’’
The prize can be taken in one lump sum — $358.5 million before taxes — or spread out over 30 years with pre-tax payouts that climb from $8 million in the first year to $30 million at the end.
“Now, we wait,’’ said Maura McCann, spokeswoman for the New Hampshire Lottery.
The odds of winning the jackpot were 1 in 292.2 million. The winning numbers were randomly generated, not chosen.
The winning ticket must be delivered to lottery headquarters in Concord within a year of the drawing, McCann said. By state law, the winner’s name must be made public.
“If a James Smith claims that ticket, we certainly will release the name of James Smith,’’ McCann said. If the winner is a trust, the trust will be identified.
The fine print is for lawyers to figure out. In Merrimack, the hope was for a local winner.
“I’d like it to go to someone who will reinvest in the community. They’re still going to be mega-rich,’’ said Safa, a 45-year-old father of four who left Lebanon two decades ago for a better life in the United States.
Safa said he will put his share of the prize into the store, a social hub as much as a market, where people greet each other by their first names, pick up a gallon of milk, and buy plenty of lottery tickets.
“No Powerball or Mega Millions, honey?’’ Kathy Robinson asked from behind the counter Monday. “Who knows, you might be the next big winner.’’
Robinson was the first to see the message early Sunday that Reeds Ferry Market had sold the big prize. It was 5 a.m., she was making coffee for the early risers, and the doors were nearly ready to open when she saw a blinking light with a notice from the lottery.
She immediately called Safa and woke him up.
“What’s wrong,’’ Safa asked, worried that the store had been damaged or that other bad news was coming.
“Listen, we sold the winning lottery ticket,’’ Robinson said. Robinson said she hadn’t slept all night, unable to shake a feeling that the winner had been bought at the store.
Paul Plant, an 82-year-old with a bushy white mustache, said he isn’t the lucky one.
“Why didn’t I buy it last week? I really don’t know,’’ Plant said Monday with a shake of his head. Instead, he cashed in a ticket he had bought last March. The winnings — all of $6.
Plant said he doesn’t buy as many lottery tickets as he once did when he stopped by the store more regularly.
“My friends have died, and I don’t go out for breakfast anymore,’’ Plant said with a smile.
Gigi Amaiello also said she missed out on the drawing.
“I was hibernating because of the snow,’’ Amaiello said with a grin.
The lottery expects to be contacted by the winner by the end of the week, McCann said. In the meantime, the guessing game will rage on.
Safa said he was happy for his store, the check he’ll receive, and also for a community that his family has embraced. There are youth sports he sponsors, the school activities, and a conviction that Merrimack is a place of possibility that did not exist in war-plagued Lebanon.
“I started on the bottom of the ladder. I worked hard, I saved money, and this good opportunity came along,’’ Safa said, gesturing toward the shelves. “I love the American values and the way of life.’’
Now, he waits, along with the rest of Merrimack.
“I would like,’’ he said, “for the winner to be someone I know.’’
