gwendolyn bounds

TEAM GUINAN RODE...
Sept. 28 to Sept. 30, 2007

As many of you may remember from Chapter 12 “The Ride” in the book Little Chapel on the River, John Guinan has completed a grueling bike ride 11 years in a row to raise money for HIV/AIDS research in honor of his late brother in law, Tommy.

John is now battling brain cancer and though he’s doing well, he couldn't ride this year. So his daughter Kelly Guinan led a team of 7 riders (myself included) and one steadfast volunteer, Ed Preusser – aka TEAM GUINAN – to take her father’s place. We left Gettysburg, Pa. on Sept. 28th and pedaled 275 miles to New York City, arriving on Sept 30th. Thanks to your support, we raised $31,000

There was not a road bike among us. We all rode mountain bikes or hybrids or something of that mix. One man, David Lant, rode the entire way on a single speed bike. Another, Chris Robinson, did it on his wife's 3-speed 1965 bike wearing khaki pants, a white tee-shirt and duck boots. Other riders sporting their own styles included Christine Ashburn, Lisa Bernhard and Dean Bradshaw. If you haven't checked out Christine's pictures before, now is the time to.

WHAT'S HAPPENING AT THE CHAPEL NOW?


   In the fall of 2006, not long after pedaling 275 miles from Gettysburg to Manhattan on his bicycle to raise money for AIDS, (see below) John Guinan felt numbness on his left side en route to open the store one morning. His doctor called an ambulance for him, and on his way to the hospital with his wife Mary Jane, he suffered a Grand mal seizure.

   Doctors located the culprit: a 2-centimeter mass in the right rear of John's brain. Surgery revealed more: the mass was a malignant tumor, an aggressive form of cancer called glioblastoma multiforme that begins in the brain.

   John took the news better than anyone. There was no ‘why me,’ but just a simple acceptance and belief that he would persevere. To say he had strength isn't quite right. He was strong, yes, but he was more than that. He was no different a man than he had been the day before the diagnosis. And by that I mean that he held us all up, continued going down to the store every morning, buttering the rolls, finding smiles in weary commuters and setting ground rules: no tears.

   But don’t take my word for it. Listen to a short clip (see link below) from an interview he did Nov. 2 on XM Radio’s “Broadminded” show. It was a remarkable conversation. We sat together in my basement while he talked by phone to the hosts, and they graciously opened up their show to him. What came out of him during those 20 minutes was unfiltered, unedited and a riveting reminder of exactly what goes into making a man’s character true. Many times since meeting John I have thought to myself, “I do not know a better man.” But I’ve never felt it more than I did at that moment.

   John completed an intense round of radiation and is still going through chemotherapy. His immediate family has shared him once again with all of the parishioners … his extended family. During John's radiation, there was a calendar hung behind the counter at the store, and we all signed up to drive him to treatment. Like his father did when he was in the hospital, John charmed every single one of the female nurses. I was with him on his last day of radiation; one by one all the doctors, technicians, receptionists trickled out to say goodbye. He invited them all to come visit the pub. As we were leaving, one turned and asked me: “Do you have any idea how much we’ll miss seeing him at the clinic every day?”

   I told them I did.

   These days, John is resting at home and the parishioners come to him. He’s in good spirits, and loves cards and jokes and funny articles and general all-around entertaining news.

Please write to him:

JOHN GUINAN
7 PULASKI ROAD
FISHKILL NY 12524

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Here are some answers to some of your most-frequently asked questions about the LITTLE CHAPEL:


Q. Is Guinan's still around?
   Guinan's closed its doors after 49 years in business on January 31, 2008. It was granted several extra bursts of life thanks to the steady hands of three generations of Guinans. In addition to Jim, John and Margaret, John's daughter, Kelly, also stepped in to help keep the tradition alive. She did this in addition to a full-time job as a graphic designer. There are several others from the book who pitched in, as well as two great guys named Dean Bradshaw and Todd Nielsen who weren't around when I was writing the book. They are both, among other things, boat captains in Manhattan. Mary Ellen Yannitelli also was instrumental in holding everything together. She is putting together a proposal to open a new store in the Guinan's tradition. Stay tuned...
   The closing of Guinan's obviously marks the end of an era. But we are lucky to have had the extra time these folks brought us. Keep up with what's happening with the characters from Little Chapel at the new blog.

Q. How is Jim?
   In his own words: "Still vertical." Jim is just celebrated his 82nd birthday and is as wry and sharp as ever. He's taking a trip to Ireland with his daughter Christine in February and then plans to move down to live with her in Florida.

Q. Did Fitz move?
   Fitz finally sold his house. He moved upstate, but I can't tell you where because he'll track me down and....well, you know. In true Fitz fashion, he refused to let anyone throw him a going away party. So someone stuck a sign on a picture of him in the bar that says: "This seat available: inquire at the bar."

Q. Is everyone in the book still alive?
   No. Ken Anderson -- a morning regular famous for his height, no-nonsense demeanor, and quips ("I'm just like two pianos: upright and grand") died this winter. There was a service held at St. Philip's Church, and Frank the preacher was appropriately wry and touching in his remarks. 7:20 a.m. isn't the same anymore at the chapel.
   Another loss we had was Tip Dain, one of Jim's Fearsome Foursome golfing partners. Dry-witted and fiercely funny, Tip sang and cracked jokes at Jim's 80th birthday party. His service too was held at St. Philip's.

Q. Do you still live in Garrison?
   Yes. Garrison is my home. I continue to fix up the house I bought in 2003 -- it will always be a work in progress, I think. The chronicles of my trials and tribulations on this front are part of a new home improvement column I'm writing for The Wall Street Journal. In a strange way, having permanent roots in Garrison has brought me closer to New York City again. I spend several days a week in Manhattan now, and while I miss the Hudson Highlands every time I leave, the two worlds along the river-that-flows-two-ways feel very connected to me.

Q. How is Walter, your chain-smoking next-door neighbor?
   Walter quit smoking. Cold turkey. Doctors saw a spot on his lung and that was it. However, he continues to clip coupons, pinch pennies and come to my house and offer home improvement advice, solicited or not. He and his wife Jos are still two of my best friends.

--Last updated: February, 2008


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"Pace yourself, kid. It's a ride, not a race."

  That's what John Guinan told me in 2002 when I accompanied him on the Northeast AIDs Ride. As those of you who've read Little Chapel will remember from Chapter 12, he gently offered up this apt metaphor for life on Day One, Mile 18, with another 305 miles to go when I was rushing ahead, missing the whole point of the ride.

  This weekend (Sept. 15 to 17) John and his wife Mary Jane are participating in the 2006 Braking the Cycle ride to raise money for AIDs treatment and research. John has completed the ride (typically with no training...the store hours don't really permit it) 10 times over the past few years, often with Mary Jane crewing too, to honor the life of her late brother Tommy.

  They graciously agree to share their thoughts along the ride...

Friday, Sept. 15th:

When I spoke to John, it was 5:45 p.m., and he was showered and lying on the hotel room bed in Lancaster, Pa., waiting for Mary Jane who was still on the road transporting bicycles for riders. It had been raining most of the day, but he was in good spirits.

HOW DID YOU FEEL STARTING OUT?

“I had to talk at opening ceremonies this morning. It was hard. I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about what I was going to say. I had everything all set in my head. But I got up in front of everyone, and I broke down. It’s hard to talk about how me and Mary Jane got into the ride and Tommy getting sick. And how much I’ve grown to hate this disease because of what it’s done, not only to the gay community but to all the communities throughout the United States and also the world. I spoke for about five minutes…Mar was standing beside me holding my arm. She wouldn’t speak, she couldn’t. She was crying….

WHAT WAS THE ACTUAL RIDE LIKE?

“It was rainy and miserable weather today. But I felt good and anxious starting up riding. I actually had a lot of fun. The ride today was 95 miles. I rode about 60 miles and stopped after lunch. I was feeling tired and my calves and quads were cramping up on the hills. We had some monster hills ahead of us and there was thunder and a lot of people stopped. But I didn’t train at all so … Still, one lady rode by me and called out: ‘What a great set of legs.’

I’m riding with a sponsored team, the Haworth Press Hellions, put together by Haworth Press Inc., a print shop in Binghamton, N.Y. We have nine riders and three crew members and these colorful shirts. And little red devil horns with sparkles on our helmets.

THIS IS YOUR 11TH RIDE. DO YOU FEEL ANY DIFFERENT ABOUT WHAT YOU'RE DOING?

“It’s sad that there’s still people today getting infected after all this riding we’ve done and all this information brought out. We're supposed to be educating people about this horrible disease, and still people are getting sick. It’s frustrating to an extent. You wonder: Am I really making a difference doing this ride? But I guess if you’ve educated one or two people out there about the disease then you’ve done something.

“A group of us laughed that we’re not getting any younger so things are getting harder for us each year riding, but we still get out there and do it because we have to. We have to get the message out there that this disease is killing people, and not just gay people. It’s not just a gay disease…


Saturday, September 16th

John called me from Clinton, N.J. around 7:40 p.m. He’d just finished showering and was headed to dinner with Mary Jane. I expected him to sound exhausted. Instead, he was totally jazzed, sounding happier than I’d heard him in months. Turns out he’d ridden 96 miles that day, just a few short of the 112 total laid out for that day’s Ride. (112 miles on a tiny bike seat… just think about that…) Riders had finished coming in just a short time before we spoke.

WHAT WAS THE WEATHER LIKE TODAY?

It started out overcast and then about 8 a.m. it started raining. It rained about three and a half hours. And it really came down hard. You are at a slower pace, and you really have to pay attention to everything because your visibility is cut. You have to be thinking ahead because your brakes are not as functional. You are cold, and you don’t want hypothermia to set in. You have to still hydrate like it was sunny. So you don’t stay long in the oasis’ (pit stops) You go to the bathroom, grab something to eat and load up with Gatorade and water. Then you get back on the road because you don’t want to get too chilly.

ANYTHING ELSE?
Well, you lather up a bit more…you know, lubricate, so you don’t get blisters in the places, well, where you don’t want blisters.

HOW WAS THE RIDING?

My friend Buck and I rode a good part of the day together. And somewhere around 2:30 p.m. or 3 p.m., the sun came out for a short while, and then it got overcast again. And then, the sun came out again toward the latter part of the day.

I was having a real good day…really, really enjoyable. A lot of times I saw Mary Jane on the road. I was thinking about how beautiful the country was down here. And just trying to be safe, and realizing how blessed I really am to be able to do these rides.

WERE YOU SORE?
I wasn’t. I felt pretty good – well, until I sat on the seat. That was the big reminder.


Sunday, Sept. 17th/Monday Sept. 18th

Late Sunday afternoon, I found a very tired John and Mary Jane downtown around 6 p.m. That day’s ride had been another unbelievable haul…approximately 81 miles. John, somehow, made most of it.

They were at the closing ceremonies for Braking the Cycle, which were held at the LGBT Center on 13th Street. Their team, the Haworth Press Hellions, raised more than $50,000 for the cause – thus making them the top fundraising team for the ride. (This means they’ll be in the Macy’s Day Parade – so be sure to watch.)

At the closing ceremony, 10 riders, including John, were asked to step forward to be thanked for their participation in the first four Braking the Cycle rides. Between just the 10 of them, they’ve raised $250,000 over the last four years to go toward finding treatments and a cure for the disease.

We didn’t have time for a long talk; John and Mary Jane had to get to Grand Central with his bike to hop the Metro-North home to Garrison and the chapel.

These rides are emotionally draining as much as physically. John finally got his cold beer at home, (a Red Hook Late Autumn Harvest Ale) and then went to bed around 10:30 p.m.

The alarm clock rang at 4 a.m. as usual. He drove to work, turned on the lights, started the coffee, took the butter out to soften … and waited for his family of commuters.

“Everybody came in shaking my hand and telling me how proud they are,” John says. “It meant a lot. “I’m all right. My lower back is tight. And of course my backside hurts. I’m extremely glad I did it. Thanks for the emails of support everyone sent. I really enjoyed those. I showed them to a whole bunch of people on the ride.”

He’s already signed up for the next year’s ride. And so has Mary Jane.

Congratulations to them both – and welcome home..