FREEPORT — Most of Freeport’s Main Street, like the rest of Maine, battened down the hatches overnight Monday in preparation for the Great Blizzard of This Week, Juno, or whatever name forecasters aspiring to be witty have assigned to the latest storm.

Outlet stores, boutiques and even Bow Street Market, where Freeport residents go for storm survival essentials, such as bread, milk and fine wine, showed no sign of life Tuesday morning, and plow trucks were the only vehicles out and about.

But the lights remained on at L.L. Bean, where the doors never close. In fact, except for the outlet, none of the L.L. Bean stores’ doors have locks. The company’s reputation hinges, in part, on the fact that it stays open every minute of every day of every year.

On Tuesday morning, as the wind howled and snow blew in every direction, Tom Doten donned his New England Patriots jacket and walked the two blocks from his apartment to L.L. Bean’s flagship store buy some gloves. The only customer in the store at about 10:30 a.m., Doten found himself with unusually personal service.

“I’m looking for a pair on the cheap side,” Doten said. The first few he tried on were out of his price range, but then he spotted the prize. Doten walked home with a pair of Rangeley leather gloves on sale for $39.99 — $10 off the original price.

A skeleton crew of about a dozen L.L. Bean employees spent Tuesday morning straightening stacks of shirts and waiting on the occasional customer with especially personalized service.

Store manager Steve Imperato spent much of Monday organizing a crew of employees who live close enough to the store to get there safely. Several, including Tom Whitaker and Kristin Jean, can walk from their homes.

Jean said she was happy to work, adding, “I save my snow days for ski days.”

“More than anything, it’s about the commitment L.L. Bean made to being present for his customers, whenever they need [us],” Imperato said.

Industrial snowblowers, a fleet of plow trucks and shovelers with snow-encased mustaches worked throughout the morning to clear the parking lot and sidewalks of snow drifts.

“One guy was just here with his daughters,” employee Tom Whitaker said. “He was a local guy, just looking to get out of the house.”

In fact, with so much space in the largely unoccupied store, Imperato encouraged families to visit with their kids and run around the troll bridge, draw on the giant chalkboard and practice tying knots, once the weather clears enough to make travel safe.

“By all means, bring ‘em to see the fish,” he said, motioning to the first-floor trout pond.