During his years in Cornwall, Dave Cadwell has come to see himself as an ordinary man happily living among incredibly accomplished and talented people. So it seems fitting that he is the only "ordinary" person among the many featured in Tom Brokaw’s newly released book, "Boom! Voices of the ’60s."

"Cool beans" is his new favorite expression. It’s how he sums up what he calls an incredible honor, and lately he finds he’s been saying it a lot: The book is out and word is getting around; people are constantly congratulating the charismatic Cornwall resident.

"It’s based on a speech I gave a couple of years ago at the Memorial Day service. Tom heard it and took a copy. Eighteen months ago I got a call, and here I am. I’m in the chapter called ‘The War Without End’," Cadwell said. "Right after me comes Colin Powell, another general, a few senators, including John McCain, and an ambassador. Everyone is the book is either famous, or you don’t know their name but just wait until you hear their story. Then there’s me."

Cadwell’s humility is in no way an affectation. But his inclusion in the book shows him to be more than the ordinary guy he thinks he is.

It all began 37 years ago, when Cadwell’s number came up in the draft. He signed on as a conscientious objector, refusing to carry a gun and — barely a grown man — was sent to Vietnam. He served as a medic, which turned out to be a gift, in the end, for the once unfocused teenager from Southern California.

Beyond that, his return after a tour of duty and a six-month voluntary re-enlistment marked the firm closing of that chapter of his life. He is a man who is honest with himself, and he couldn’t stand how desensitized war had made him.

"When I re-enlisted, I was assigned to a hospital, in neurosurgical intensive care. I’ll never forget one day when a doctor came in and pointed to several of the patients who just weren’t going to make it. He told me to shut off their respirators, and my first thought was how much more work it made for me. I had to take their bodies to the morgue and clean up their beds and put away the oxygen tanks. All I could think was, it sucks to be me. Seeing all that blood and death, it deadens you."

Fast forward to 1987, when he and his former wife, Alice, moved to Cornwall after falling in love with the town on a visit.

"We had settled in Orlando, bought a house and started raising a family there, but it never seemed right. This place was right."

Running Cadwell’s Corner — the predecessor to the Wandering Moose Café— for a decade, he became well-known and well-loved. One of his regulars was Brokaw.

"I’d be cooking at the grill, right out there behind the counter. He’d come in, and in that unmistakable voice I’d hear, ‘A guy walks into a bar...’ "

When not broadcasting the news, Brokaw loves to joke around, Cadwell said.

The newsman, in turn, has similar things to say about Cadwell.

"Dave was my friend — and favorite corny jokester — before I knew of his Vietnam experience," Brokaw wrote in an e-mail to The Journal this week, while traveling on his book tour. "But when I heard his Memorial Day speech, I realized he represented so many Americans who served honorably and returned home to live quiet, productive lives."

That speech was given by Cadwell in 2005, after he got to drive the town’s new ambulance in the parade. A lot of people, who thought they knew him well, were surprised to learn he is a veteran. He was also the first Vietnam vet to speak at a Cornwall Memorial Day service.

When he was asked to speak, he went first to several other Vietnam vets who were Cornwall natives. They didn’t have a problem with Cadwell doing it instead of them.

His daughter, Megan, was there that day. Her twin brother, Weston, was away at school in California. Cadwell is very happy he thought to have the speech videotaped to send to Wes. He called on his good friend Frank Oz, the Hollywood producer and director, to film the service.

Cadwell is planning to have his film-major son help edit the tape so it can be made available online.

"I’d like people to be able to hear the whole thing. It was great to hear my story, written in Tom’s voice, but I see the book as sort of the Cliffs Notes to my speech."

The speech is understated and affecting, drawn from a painful look back at that time. Cadwell chose to focus on the worst day of his life.

It was Jan. 16, 1971. His well-respected platoon leader, Captain Johnny Ward, was killed by friendly fire, along with three others, including another medic.

In his speech Cadwell wrote, "When you get through a day like that, it provides you with a lifetime standard to measure the true meaning of ‘I’m having a bad day.’ It made the rest of my life more of a downhill journey after surviving that day."

A few years ago, Cadwell tried to send Ward’s families some photos of him. There was no family left, he discovered. His wife, Joy, had never recovered from the heartbreak of losing her husband. She killed herself 10 years after he died.

Cadwell dedicated his speech to Ward.

"His name joins the 58,202 names on the Vietnam Memorial Wall...but where do we put Joy’s name?" he asked his audience.

"My son told me not to cry when I gave the speech. I barely made it through," he said, in tears after viewing the video this week. "My kids are very proud of me. And, you know, they are the same age now that I was that day in Vietnam."

Brokaw begins the chapter about Cadwell by saying that, while writing the book, he was startled by the number of people who said they didn’t know anyone who had served in Vietnam.

Cadwell noted in his speech that, for anyone under the age of 40, the Vietnam War is just... history.

Immortalizing the memory of his captain is what thrills Cadwell most about the book. He points to a photo of his platoon.

"I can name all eight of these guys," he said. "But I never kept in touch with any of them. I’m thinking it would be nice if at least one of them saw this and looked me up."

The book doesn’t mention Cornwall specifically. Brokaw calls it "a leafy corner of northwest Connecticut."

Cadwell’s not hard to find, though, for anyone who is looking. He wears a lot of volunteer hats. He says he can volunteer for so many things because he takes on the easy jobs, such as emcee or auctioneer.

"I’m just the guy who shows up," he said.

He is proudest of his job as coordinator of the EMS Institute at Sharon Hospital, which trains emergency services volunteers. It’s not really at the hospital, he explained, but it keeps people from confusing it with a non-profit of the same name in Stamford.

This institute was formed with the creation of the Foundation for Community Health upon the sale of Sharon Hospital. Cadwell insisted his photo for this story be taken in front of the institute sign.

Cadwell is also a faculty member of the American Red Cross, working as their training and education liaison.

"Basically we teach CPR and teach people to teach CPR. We will issue more than 700 certification cards this year."

Brokaw relates in his book a turning point in Cadwell’s life. Years of volunteering on Cornwall’s EMS squad had not produced an experience that would break through his barrier of insensitivity to death. On a Mohawk Mountain ski slope one day, the volunteers rescued a young girl who would not survive. Cadwell watched his friend, EMT Skip Kosciusko, go to pieces later on.

"I wondered why I was not crying. What was the matter with me? They brought in grief counselors later, and I finally broke down. I got those emotions back that day."

Brokaw and his wife, Meredith, sold their Cornwall home several years ago. Cadwell is looking forward to hearing him speak about the book at a luncheon in New Haven today (Nov. 15), where they will be seated at the same table.

"They were good people. I miss them."

Asked about leaving town, Brokaw e-mailed, "We do miss Cornwall but we still have many friends in the area — and we’ll always count our Cornwall years as a family treasure."