If you attended one of the six Boothbay Region Memorial Day parades, you witnessed an authentic slice of Americana.

You saw flags fly, bands play, preachers preach, veterans march, and crowds cheer.

There were no flyovers of swooping jets, no hundred-piece marching bands featuring huge bass drums and dancing twirlers, and no smarmy politicians pretending to care for vets while seeking votes.

Somehow, I must have missed the national crews from CBS, NBC, ABC, FOX, CNN and MSNBC zooming in to present the local event to the world. But Jonne Trees and his one-man-band local TV station did a fine job showing marchers and crowds to the locals.

You saw a squared-away Marine honor guard mark the occasion with a rifle salute. A Navy color guard showed they know how to march, too.

The community band volunteers did a pretty good job. So did the local marching vets. It may be the last time our local event will feature World War II vets. And our declining numbers of Korean and Vietnam vets are getting a bit gimpy, too.

And a shoutout to Kevin Burnham and the rest of the Boothbay Register/Wiscasset Newspaper staff who got up early and stayed late to give us a fine selection of photos to commemorate the event. They preserved the scene as we joined our friends, neighbors and visitors from away gathering on a fine spring morning to pay tribute to the thousands of men and women who lost their lives while serving our nation.

But, in my mind, the stars of the event were the grand marshals, a retired Navy doctor, Barclay Shepherd, and Paul Adams, a World War II submariner.

If you happen to catch him at the right moment, like when he is snipping fresh asparagus in his garden, with a little prompting, Barclay might tell you of the day he was cruising off the coast of Vietnam aboard the Navy’s hospital ship Repose.

On Jan. 30, 1968, the day the Vietnamese celebrate the Lunar New Year, a flock of helicopters landed on the ship's flight deck and unloaded scores of wounded warriors. It was the beginning of the TET offensive, one of the toughest battles of the entire war.

Like most real combat vets, Barclay won’t recite details. He has told those who ask that he doesn’t remember those warriors he saved that day, but he remembers those he lost.

Paul has a tough time walking these days. As he sat waiting for one of the parades to begin, he laughed as he reminded the marching Marines vets that the best Marines served on submarines. He went off the script in East Boothbay and addressed the crowd.

Paul wanted the East Boothbay village parade crowd to know East Boothbay was his home, that he knew all the men and a lone woman whose names are inscribed on the village’s World War II war memorial.

“They are all gone now. I am the only one left,” he said.

Marching days are over for Barclay and Paul. I suppose when you pass 90, you are allowed to thumb a ride and preside over the day's events from the back seat of a shiny black 1961 Cadillac convertible.

Even those who can still remember 1961 forget how big those boats were. They measured 18 1/2 feet long by almost 11 feet wide. You could buy a new one for $6,000.

Big Al Cohen, the well-known Wiscasset fireworks merchant, volunteered his classic auto just to give Barkley and Paul a ride. But he did more than act as the chauffeur. At each of the six mini parades, from Southport to East Boothbay, Big Al helped the two elderly vets climb out of his black beauty. He helped them walk to each memorial and stood by as the ceremonies progressed. Then he assisted them back to the comfort of the Caddy’s sofa-like back seat.

I don’t know if Big Al knew the pair of old vets, but it didn’t matter. He hovered over them as if they were his revered elderly relatives. But in many respects, they were kin to us all.

Barclay, Paul and Big Al stood in tribute as we honored the memory of thousands and thousands of men and women slain on battlefields at home and abroad. We are all members of the American family.

Each year, on a warm spring morning, we take the day off work, hug the grandkids and fire up the grill. But each year, before the family fun begins, we gather for a moment to remember and honor our American family members who never came home.