Yesterday morning a crowd overtook the muddy lawn in front of Thornton Academy. Their "Slancha" shirts, laced running shoes and good spirits gave them away straight off.

It was the 11th Annual Mary's Walk/Kerrymen Pub Road Race. And a fine good-feelin' day it was.

The walk, for me and a town's worth of others, has become an annual endeavor. While I never knew Mary Libby (in whose honor the event was created) and I don't have any close friends or family who've met with and battled cancer, the cause is still one I believe in.

Because despite all the bar lounging, potty mouthing and inappropriate conversation starters, I still like to be a do-gooder. At least every once in a while.

So I joined the hundreds of walkers marching down Main Street in Saco. Most donned the Mary's Walk Slancha shirts. Some got into the St. Paddy's spirit with green hats and pants. And I spotted one group of folks walking in Hawaiian shirts and grass skirts.

Feeling altogether altruistic, I decided to sign myself up as a bone marrow donor too. Because if someone can find a good use for my bone marrow, they're welcome to have it. I'll do my best to take care of it until then.

Aside from the paperwork, I was asked to swap the inside of my cheek for the all important DNA. Should a match come up between now and my 61st birthday, I'll be getting a call. Glad to do it.

But Sunday wasn't all free hot dogs and balloon bouquets.

I also got wind of some dark Saco history, thanks to a handy historical marker on the side of the road. Historical markers often grab my attention because I'm into useless information. Not that history is useless - it's just that, well, I seem to have backed myself into a corner here.

So this marker is on Main Street, sitting comfortably close to a quaint white gazebo. I figure there must be some story behind it involving a stoic early settler or heroic Sacoite.

No, it's the story of Mary Bean. She died during a surgery gone awry and her physician tossed her into a Saco brook. The discovery of her body the following spring lead to a widely publicized trial, unearthed secrets and a couple of novels, including The Murder of Mary Bean.

Not the story I expected to run into this weekend, but I guess that's the way the world goes. Communities often have a few bad seeds or an unfortunate past. But judging by today's Main Street, flooded with good-spirited people and some welcome good weather, I'm still optimistic about the direction Southern Maine is headed.