Although Curt West has been a vital part of our Boothbay community for over a half-century, he grew up in the 1920s and 1930s, down east in Steuben, on Route 1 and about halfway between Ellsworth and Jonesboro. Curt West was born July 1, 1922 and grew up in this poor, Washington County farming and fishing town during the Depression years. But these years were also the most enduring and endearing period for Curt in terms of community camaraderie. Each home in Steuben was generally surrounded by lots of cleared farmland; the woods in those agricultural days never crept up to the house. In 1930, lobster was worth 10 cents per pound, clams were 25 cents per bushel, a loaf of bread was 5 cents (and more cost-effective to bake at home, as it is becoming more cost-effective once again today), and kerosene cost 10 cents per gallon.

May Day was comprised of three parts each May 1: an afternoon maypole dance, an early evening May basket ritual, and later evening May Day pranks. May Day was also the most common time for shotgun weddings.

During the afternoon on May 1, the school children would gather in the schoolyard around the vertical maypole, a stick planted in the ground. Unaware of the pagan and fertility roots of this maypole, these dozen or so kids would each grab a ribbon-like sheet and hang on and dance in a circle around the maypole. Following the maypole dance, they would share cookies and cream before going home for more festivities.

Curt was the fourth of twelve siblings, and he would watch his six sisters industriously make the May baskets, beginning a month before May Day. The girls would take Quaker Oats round boxes, cut them up, and piece them together into beautiful baskets with handles. The girls would gather colorful paper and then crimp and curl the paper with scissors and decorate these baskets. Finally, the girls would bake cookies and fudge and fill the baskets with cookies, fudge, and other sweets.

Just around "the age of dark," while the boys eagerly waited in their homes, the girls would take each of their hand-made, overflowing baskets and deliver each basket to any boy six years or older, usually their friends. But not one boy would be missed; the girls didn't need reminding that they must include the whole neighborhood. Each girl would hang a May basket on the door of a boy's house, ring the bell, and then start running away. The girl would linger a bit for a smaller, slower boy and often race around the boy's house a few times before either escaping or being caught by the boy, who then had the duty of at least hugging and sometimes kissing the girl. Often the girl would stay a few minutes and savor homemade cookies from the family cookie jar and home-squeezed milk from the family cows.

Boys would be boys, and many pranks were played later in the evening of May 1, after the basket rituals had been completed. In 1930, some unidentified boys had stolen the new rowboat just built by Curt's uncle for one of Curt's cousins, lifted the heavy and hefty rowboat down the road to the flagpole in the center of town, and somehow managed to hoist the rowboat by the flagpole rope to the very top of the flagpole. The owner of the flagpole, maligned by many of the kids, blamed young Curt, aged 9, and his younger brother Maurice, aged 4, and angrily alerted the sheriff. When the sheriff came to the West residence the next day, Curt's father pointed out the obvious to the sheriff: "These boys were too young to carry this heavy rowboat and hoist it up the flagpole." The sheriff directed that the two boys try to lift the stern off the ground, and, after he could see that the two young boys failed to lift the boat, he let them off the hook. Some teenage culprits left a legacy of lunacy, laughter, and legends for Curt and his community.

Maine has a culture of too many "shotgun weddings," but this term had a totally different meaning in 1930. Shotgun weddings could occur at any time during the year but occurred most frequently on and around May Day. When the bride and groom would request a shotgun wedding before their wedding day, all the men attending the wedding would bring their double-barreled shotguns. Immediately after the minister would pronounce the newly wedded couple husband and wife, all the men in attendance would shoot off their shotguns.

Looking back over 75 years ago to glimpse the maypole dances, May basket deliveries and chases, May Day pranks, and shotgun weddings, we realize that we have lost much of this holiday's former luster and ardor. We have also lost much of a small community's close-knit cohesion in its celebrations.

On the other hand, today in our Boothbay community, we can celebrate a deep history that unites and molds us; a peninsular geography that captivates and enlivens us; and an uncommon community that nurtures and renews us. We are a remarkable mixture of natives, locals, in-migrants, and summer residents who row together far better than any other community that I know. We have perhaps Maine's best YMCA facilities, land trust trails, scholarship fund, Rotary projects, Rebuilding Together house-improvements, and spirit of community.