Thursday, August 22, 2013
the morning after an overnight
A classic scene. It's the morning after an overnight and the counselors need to bring all the equipment back to the out-trip building. Sometimes this means carrying packs on your back and your front!
Here's Forest on their way back the other day. It happened that Outpost was returning their equipment too - just then spotted across the field. After I took this shot, both pairs of burdened counselors began running to Out-trip! Hilarious scene.
Here's Forest on their way back the other day. It happened that Outpost was returning their equipment too - just then spotted across the field. After I took this shot, both pairs of burdened counselors began running to Out-trip! Hilarious scene.
Mike Miskelly Day
For some reason, August 20 is declared Mike Miskelly Day. Mike is a gruff but totally beloved EMT here at Frost Valley. To celebrate Mike on this day, Jacob Gordon and Alex Toy dress exactly like Mike. Here's Jacob.
Mary Fleischauer visits after 37 years away
Regular readers of this blog may remember that last summer, during session 4, Mark Fleischauer and his family visited us. Mark was a counselor and then VC of Outpost here. He grew up in Wisconsin and currently lives in the northwest. His sister Missy worked here too, as did brother Kirk. It was Kirk's death last year that prompted a return; Mark wanted his own kids to see the place where their Uncle Kirk came of age. It was a bittersweet return.
Mark, Missy and Kirk's mom - Mary Fleischauer - was our nurse for a number of years in the 70s and early 80s. She came to FV from Stevens Point, Wisc., with Dr. Bill Hettler. Bill was intensely into the idea of wellness - promoting healthy lifestyles. He hoped that our "infirmary" (stressing the illness) would shift toward a "health center" or "wellness center." The Wellness Revolution at Frost Valley is another story, partly told in other entries over the years here (search for "wellness" in the searchbox at right). Mary shared Bill's focus, and became our nurse, along with the late Joy White. The staff adored Mary. She has always had a tremendous amount of energy, and looked out for us.
Now Mark brought his mom, Mary, back to Frost Valley - after 37 years! She visited the Guenther Family Wellness Center, spent a bunch of time with MAC and STEP and saw some great and moving mainstreaming programs last night. It was a wonderful visit back.
Mark, Missy and Kirk's mom - Mary Fleischauer - was our nurse for a number of years in the 70s and early 80s. She came to FV from Stevens Point, Wisc., with Dr. Bill Hettler. Bill was intensely into the idea of wellness - promoting healthy lifestyles. He hoped that our "infirmary" (stressing the illness) would shift toward a "health center" or "wellness center." The Wellness Revolution at Frost Valley is another story, partly told in other entries over the years here (search for "wellness" in the searchbox at right). Mary shared Bill's focus, and became our nurse, along with the late Joy White. The staff adored Mary. She has always had a tremendous amount of energy, and looked out for us.
Now Mark brought his mom, Mary, back to Frost Valley - after 37 years! She visited the Guenther Family Wellness Center, spent a bunch of time with MAC and STEP and saw some great and moving mainstreaming programs last night. It was a wonderful visit back.
Wednesday, August 21, 2013
put your mother on the ceiling
As most FV people know by now, it's a relaxation technique and an imagination game rolled into one. This morning I led a session of "Put Your Mother on the Ceiling" for Hemlock; it's a village I haven't done the activity with much at all over the years, but today it was terrific. About half the guys fell happily asleep halfway through the narrative (which I say from the start is perfectly okay - and in part the goal).
mainstreamed slumber party
Susky and Mini-Mac combined (a "mainstreaming" program, they call it) for "A Slumber Party," also known as "Girls' Night." They had brought sleeping bags and pillows, just to keep to the slumber party theme, although they're not sleeping in lower Geyer Hall. Hair was being done. Nails were being polished. As I walked through, they were happy to say hello to me but politely reminded me that it was girls' night and that I might do well to keep on going!
Dom and O
Dom Hunter came from England to FV some years back and - keeps finding a way to come back, again and again. This summer he's been the VC of Hemlock, and has been terrific in all ways. This session he's befriended a boy whose nickname is "O." O is from Newark and this is his first time at Frost Valley. After leading a session of "Put Your Mother on the Ceiling" with Hemlock, I walked back with Dom and O, and chatted with O about life and camp. He said he has five sisters and was not sure how many brothers he has. He loves camp and is extremely articulate about all aspects of the experience. He has a sense of what this two-week break is doing for him. What a guy!
just walking around during rest hour
| Chris Lemmey, who came here via Dave Gold. |
| The Sacky staff having a rest-hour meeting. |
Well, it was rest hour for the older villages, and
I walked through Sacky and then through the outdoor chapel on my way down to lunch, where Wawayanda was then dining. The mid-day was cool and sunny, and I loved this walk. On the way I passed by the Sacky staff having a staff meeting during rest hour.
Jackson Patterson is visiting
Jackson Patterson - long-time FV guy - now directs another camp: Camp Mason. Jackson is visiting along with his assistant. Here they are, chatting with Meg Lawrence in the dining hall. Jackson wanted his assistant to see and hear "hoopla." Apparently at Mason there is no such thing as cheers or hoopla.
more photos from Dave King's induction
| Standing from left: Peggy Rub Volonts, Kay Hettler, Jody Ketcham, Dave King, Peggy Hope, Maureen Heath Kosa; kneeling from left: Barbara Spitz, Carolyn Shelburne |
![]() |
| Jody Davies Ketcham and Mike Ketcham, sister-in-law and brother-in-law - and old dear friends. |
![]() |
| Mike Ketcham and Jody Davies Ketcham |
![]() |
| From left: Paul Brown (Halbe Brown's brother), Bob & Kay Hettler. |
![]() |
| Al, Dave, and Dave Jr. |
![]() |
| Al makes a wisecrack about the size XXL jacket. |
![]() |
| Photo taken in Lakeview Lodge that night - by Maureen Heath Kosa. From left to right: Al Filreis, Dave King, Jody Ketcham. |
Ichabod Crane Revue
Our second "Ichabod Crane Revue" of the summer: a short evening program, at the Hirdstock Stage, featuring a medley of new, never-yet-told stories by various members of the Frost Valley community. This time, Pokey-Totem, Susky, Lakota, Forest and Outpost all joined. Philip Laskaris told the first story - about a scary bush-shaking bear-scare incident when he was an LIT. Meg Lawrence told the next story - a fairy-tale-like tale she had written, about a fly named "Wawa" who wanted to turn into a firefly in order to light the way of a friend at camp. Lastly, there was Lincoln McClain, who told the true story of a friend of his, who lived in Albania and befriended a wild dog who, later, saved the friend from another pack. In between the stories: a round of singing "Deep & Wide"; the "Is It Time Yet?" skit; and the skit in which counselors demonstrate how to ration water (using the same cup of water for brushing, gargling, etc., whereupon someone, in the end, drinks the cup's disgusting contents down). Here are several photos of the magical night. As I sat on the hill, looking at all the kids wide-eyed and listening, and saw the full moon rise over the stage, and listened to my generous colleagues telling their tales (not an easy thing to do), I thought to myself: "Well, this is camp. This is pure camp."
come visit old Wawayanda: t-shirt as postcard
serious mushroom on a beautiful day
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
campers say thank you to the trustees
Jim Vaughan wrote the following - in part - to members of Frost Valley's Board of Trustees, and sent along the photo below:
Saturday’s meeting, hall of fame inductions, presentations, and related events at Frost Valley represented arguably one of our most successful days ever, as those who attended can attest.
During the afternoon, I got together with some campers so that we could collectively say thank you to all of the Frost Valley Trustees for all that you do. A photo is attached.
Saturday’s meeting, hall of fame inductions, presentations, and related events at Frost Valley represented arguably one of our most successful days ever, as those who attended can attest.
During the afternoon, I got together with some campers so that we could collectively say thank you to all of the Frost Valley Trustees for all that you do. A photo is attached.
the Hirdstock stage
The threat of rain brought us inside for the Hirdstock evening concert (staff performances). Still, the stage was nicely lit and set.
Monday, August 19, 2013
Emma's & Lisa's & Lee's kids
| From left: me, Lisa Colton, Jen Calli, and Emma Coniff. |
the apples are happening
Late August in the Catskills. And we're up at 1,900 feet above sea level, so that temps vary greatly day to night, and some of the old apple trees produce early. Check out these beauties.
for the staff morale
Fourth session. When I ask counselors how much gas they have left in the tank, they typically answer: "A quarter of a tank." Not bad, really. But this is grueling work. Up at 7:30 or so, outdoors and mostly running or moving fast all day, with a one-hour period off - and then after-dinner programs followed by devotions, followed sometimes by CQ duty. Curfew is at 1 am. Almost everyone is at least up - if not walking around - until 1 (it's the only time to enjoy the company of staff friends in other villages). So that's a long day. Sixteen-and-a-half hours! These are dedicated people, and right about now they can use all the treats they can get. Last night I threw a party for the Lakota staff starting at 11, at Turrell Lodge (which is empty now that the Lakota one-week campers have departed). Dan Weir drove over a grill for me to use, and I picked up fabulous "wood charcoal" (what's that?) from the kitchen, and supplied hamburgers, cheese, hot dogs, buns, Pellegrino water, chips, cookies, pudding, etc. etc. I grilled a round of cheeseburgers and next thing you know: let's have more. They gathered on the porch of Turrell, put on some music, and - of course - talked about their campers. Some counselors from other villages stopped by. They ate and talked and ate and talked. And expressed real gratitude. This morning I saw a bit of extra bounce in their steps. It was a pleasure to provide this for them (in, I might add, the Eric Blum tradition).
wanna go home
This young man comes over to the directors' table every meal, and asks someone: "Can I go home?" - whereupon someone says something (anything, really) or makes a funny face - and then he bursts out-loud laughing and gets a broad smile. At this point he's really doing this as a ritual chance to check in with some adults in the room. We've at least taken it that way, and the drama has been kept at a minimum.
Hirdstock 2013: the afternoon
We've gathered in the name of peace and love and music for our annual "Hirdstock" festival. Farm Camp has come over in buses. Mustang Village (horseback riding group) participates too, as does, in part, the campers and staff of the Tokyo Program. It's about as "One Camp"-ish all-camp event as we get. Some former staffers (such as Nick Lomauro and Shannon Mooney) visit us just for Hirdstock.
The afternoon features booths for face-painting, tattooing, herbs and incense & other cool stuff - and, of course, an afternoon-long stage show in which dozens of talented campers perform. (Tonight, at the main Hirdstock concert, we will be back at the stage on Hirdstock Field, for an evening of music performed by staff.) Hirdstock is a day of characters, a fun rough approximation of '60s-era garb, with a mix of 21st-century random and eclectic. Here's a gallery of the Frost Valley people dressed up for the day some of us await all year.
The afternoon features booths for face-painting, tattooing, herbs and incense & other cool stuff - and, of course, an afternoon-long stage show in which dozens of talented campers perform. (Tonight, at the main Hirdstock concert, we will be back at the stage on Hirdstock Field, for an evening of music performed by staff.) Hirdstock is a day of characters, a fun rough approximation of '60s-era garb, with a mix of 21st-century random and eclectic. Here's a gallery of the Frost Valley people dressed up for the day some of us await all year.
| Shannon Mooney, her first summer in ages away from FV, visits just for Hirdstock (at left). |
| Anthony from Lenape performs. This is his third session. |
![]() |
| Amelia, Susky counselor through session 3, came back to visit just for Hirdstock. |
![]() |
| CIT Alanna: a Ninja hippie. |
![]() |
| Rae Nathanson's Hirdstock garb is simple - adorned with a headband garland of flowers. |
| Kam (Hird Director) looks to the East for his laid-back inspiration. |
![]() |
| Shannon Crane, CIT Coordinator, goes with the floppy hat, loose sweater, peasant dress with banjo look. |
![]() |
| Will Katz, PAC counselor, combines rasta pants with Hawaiian shirt. |
profile of Dave King to accompany his Hall of Fame induction
In the long history of our summer camp, surely no member of the seasonal staff has served longer or offered a greater sense of continuity than did David Guthrie King between the late 1950s and the late 1970s. King-sized in every possible way -- tremendously energetic; ubiquitously checking on his staff at night with his huge flashlight; leading songs at every meal in the dining hall like a beanpole maestro; aware of every camper by name and background; always reminding us of the largeness of our mission and the transformative power of our values -- Dave had an impact on every single aspect of the Wawayanda camping experience. Many of the innovations and customs he introduced into daily summer life here are in use to this day, fifty-five years after his arrival for Wawayanda's first year at Frost Valley. That summer, 1958, he served as the first Village Chief of Lenape village. Soon he was the Program Director, and then, for many years, the Director of Camp Wawayanda. His wife Shirley joined him -- and herself performed every possible task and job, from directing Arts & Crafts to managing the Castle when it functioned as an inn -- and soon their children Kathy and Dave Jr. became Frost Valley lifers themselves. With the Browns, the Kings were the first Frost Valley family. When Halbe Brown assumed the executive directorship in 1966, his inaugural move was to ask Dave King to stay and help him. They became an inseparable team, dear friends and co-advisors. After a while Dave was appointed to the membership of Frost Valley's Board of Trustees. But soon his responsibilities in the public school district of Baltimore Country, Maryland -- where he rose to the position of Assistant Superintendent of Schools -- forced him to cut back to half summers at camp, and later to resign his trusteeship because of his extraordinary professional commitments. Yet even during Dave’s half-summer stints in the mid and late 1970s, Halbe Brown induced his friend to lead in innovative ways. One summer Dave’s job was to be the Village Chief of Seneca, a new village for children with disabilities -- a forerunner, ten years before its time, of the successful program we now call MAC.
Soon Dave’s work in Baltimore precluded any summer break, whereupon generations of "his kids," as he called them -- almost all of the camp leadership by then comprised his former campers now grown up -- gathered to say a sad goodbye. Yet the sadness of farewell was short-lived, quickly transformed into happy legacy, for what Dave King gave to this place in its early years was and is still here: a constant reminder of the values of respect, honesty and responsibility; the crucial importance of nurturing every single child as a future leader, and, when the moment comes, of giving him or her the actual chance to lead; the fundamental pleasures of story-telling -- of narrating our values as a way of passing them on to children -- and, crucially, the unforgettable communitarianism of singing songs together. The songs we sang for years with Dave can still be heard. The pure sounds of Wawayanda singing echo down the valley -- and among them, surely, the soft-hearted big man's favorite: "All night, all day, angels watching over you...."
Soon Dave’s work in Baltimore precluded any summer break, whereupon generations of "his kids," as he called them -- almost all of the camp leadership by then comprised his former campers now grown up -- gathered to say a sad goodbye. Yet the sadness of farewell was short-lived, quickly transformed into happy legacy, for what Dave King gave to this place in its early years was and is still here: a constant reminder of the values of respect, honesty and responsibility; the crucial importance of nurturing every single child as a future leader, and, when the moment comes, of giving him or her the actual chance to lead; the fundamental pleasures of story-telling -- of narrating our values as a way of passing them on to children -- and, crucially, the unforgettable communitarianism of singing songs together. The songs we sang for years with Dave can still be heard. The pure sounds of Wawayanda singing echo down the valley -- and among them, surely, the soft-hearted big man's favorite: "All night, all day, angels watching over you...."
Profile of Eric Blum for presentation of Volunteer of the Year Award
Neither chronic illness nor physical limitation - nor an eminent career as a medical professional in a distant state - could keep Eric Blum from returning each summer at length to the valley he repeatedly called "his true home."
He first arrived as a youthful and idealistic Junior Counselor with the summer staff of 1986. Because Frost Valley -- unique among all camps -- had its own dialysis unit, Eric could focus on his care of the children assigned to him and not on his own renal disease. He was a superb counselor and was hired back for '87. Before long he was recognized as among the most talented and dedicated camp staffers, and he returned summer after summer, into the 1990s. On this day we honor Eric not so much for those many summers as an excellent Frost Valley staff member, celebration-worthy as they were. We honor him today for what came next. It was only after Eric left the regular staff to devote himself to his career as trauma-care nurse at the Hospital of the University of Virginia, that he -- by his own account -- began to understand what Frost Valley really meant to him. He told camp friends that sometimes, while on shift break at the hospital in Virginia, he would close his eyes and see children playing in the field and smell a campfire. All year long he longed to “come home.” Each spring his trauma room colleagues helped him count down the days before he could return to Frost Valley. He worked out an arrangement, accumulating all of his paid vacation days (and adding not a few unpaid days), and managed to spend an entire month at camp every summer as a volunteer. In that annual month-long stint at camp, he did whatever mundane job needed to be done. Because he knew the camp operation so well, he became a crucial special assistant and relief to the directors, who by this point were his dear friends. Without complaint, nor ever a reminder that he was an unpaid volunteer, he performed the kind of tasks that no one else could do or even thought to do. Yet if you told him the value of what he'd done, he would shrug it off. He spent countless all-nighters supporting the medical staff during emergencies, always the perfectly trained extra pair of hands, always the firm yet calming bedside manner. To describe all this he borrowed a term from the Yiddish, dubbing himself the Camp Schlep. Each September he mailed a "Camp Schlep” t-shirt to those few Frost Valley colleagues whom he deemed flexible enough and willing enough to help camp run no matter what it took. Given Eric’s high standards of voluntarism, those who received these shirts cherished the honor. One year the Schlep shirt bore a slogan that might as well express Eric’s philosophy of life: "We improvise, we adjust, we overcome."
When Eric's final illness had nearly taken him from us, his Frost Valley friends visited him -- the last of these visits to bring to him the award we formally and posthumously confer upon him today: Frost Valley Volunteer of the Year. In his room, on that last day, as he clutched the award to his chest, his visitors could not help but notice that the walls and shelves were covered with his Frost valley mementos: his home here at home there.
Eric Blum epitomized the spirit of giving, of selflessness, of accommodation and sacrifice that is what ultimately makes Frost Valley YMCA the strong and stable organization with the capacity to enhance the lives of so many children and families, including those burdened by chronic illness. It is for this reason that, in addition to conferring on Eric this year's volunteer award, the Frost Valley YMCA Board of Trustees has unanimously resolved to name the award itself in his memory, and thus it shall henceforth be annually given as The Eric Blum Volunteer of the Year Award. We improvise, we adjust, we overcome.
He first arrived as a youthful and idealistic Junior Counselor with the summer staff of 1986. Because Frost Valley -- unique among all camps -- had its own dialysis unit, Eric could focus on his care of the children assigned to him and not on his own renal disease. He was a superb counselor and was hired back for '87. Before long he was recognized as among the most talented and dedicated camp staffers, and he returned summer after summer, into the 1990s. On this day we honor Eric not so much for those many summers as an excellent Frost Valley staff member, celebration-worthy as they were. We honor him today for what came next. It was only after Eric left the regular staff to devote himself to his career as trauma-care nurse at the Hospital of the University of Virginia, that he -- by his own account -- began to understand what Frost Valley really meant to him. He told camp friends that sometimes, while on shift break at the hospital in Virginia, he would close his eyes and see children playing in the field and smell a campfire. All year long he longed to “come home.” Each spring his trauma room colleagues helped him count down the days before he could return to Frost Valley. He worked out an arrangement, accumulating all of his paid vacation days (and adding not a few unpaid days), and managed to spend an entire month at camp every summer as a volunteer. In that annual month-long stint at camp, he did whatever mundane job needed to be done. Because he knew the camp operation so well, he became a crucial special assistant and relief to the directors, who by this point were his dear friends. Without complaint, nor ever a reminder that he was an unpaid volunteer, he performed the kind of tasks that no one else could do or even thought to do. Yet if you told him the value of what he'd done, he would shrug it off. He spent countless all-nighters supporting the medical staff during emergencies, always the perfectly trained extra pair of hands, always the firm yet calming bedside manner. To describe all this he borrowed a term from the Yiddish, dubbing himself the Camp Schlep. Each September he mailed a "Camp Schlep” t-shirt to those few Frost Valley colleagues whom he deemed flexible enough and willing enough to help camp run no matter what it took. Given Eric’s high standards of voluntarism, those who received these shirts cherished the honor. One year the Schlep shirt bore a slogan that might as well express Eric’s philosophy of life: "We improvise, we adjust, we overcome."
When Eric's final illness had nearly taken him from us, his Frost Valley friends visited him -- the last of these visits to bring to him the award we formally and posthumously confer upon him today: Frost Valley Volunteer of the Year. In his room, on that last day, as he clutched the award to his chest, his visitors could not help but notice that the walls and shelves were covered with his Frost valley mementos: his home here at home there.
Eric Blum epitomized the spirit of giving, of selflessness, of accommodation and sacrifice that is what ultimately makes Frost Valley YMCA the strong and stable organization with the capacity to enhance the lives of so many children and families, including those burdened by chronic illness. It is for this reason that, in addition to conferring on Eric this year's volunteer award, the Frost Valley YMCA Board of Trustees has unanimously resolved to name the award itself in his memory, and thus it shall henceforth be annually given as The Eric Blum Volunteer of the Year Award. We improvise, we adjust, we overcome.
Paul Guenther is inducted into the Frost Valley Hall of Fame
Here is the profile of Paul Guenther presented at the time of his induction this past weekend:
Paul Guenther served as President of one of Wall Street’s legendarily well-reputed firms, Paine Webber. In this position, and earlier at Manufacturers Hanover Trust, he developed a broad network of contacts not only in the financial community but across New York’s social spectrum. When he later served as Chairman of the Board of Trustees of Fordham University and, from 1996 to 2006, as Chairman of the Board of the New York Philharmonic at Lincoln Center, this acute sense of the urban social and political landscape aided his efforts as a passionate supporter of the arts. The Philharmonic’s annual fund more than doubled during Paul’s ten years in charge, and this success was largely due to his almost magical connections.
Meantime, a few hours’ drive upstate, he and Diane had bought a property in remote Grahamsville, and in 1970 had begun to build a house they somehow even then knew would be meaningful to them and their children for a lifetime. The kind of connections one makes up here in the Catskills are of a sort quite different from those made in the big-city arts and finance world, and Paul began to cherish the genuineness and purity of the acquaintanceships and friendships he formed here. He still recalls in detail the finest class he taught in Sunday School at the local church. Among his brilliant students were several whose families worked and lived at Frost Valley. His own young children, needing diversion, enjoyed long rides in the country, so he and Diane drove the back roads, until one day discovering, up on the hill, the Forstmann Castle (to which Paul first responded: “Wow!”); soon they explored the whole of Frost Valley. Halbe Brown befriended him. Two of his and Diane’s children – Matt and Liz – attended summer camp. Before long he was invited by Halbe and Jim Kellogg (then President) to join the Board as a trustee.
When a reporter interviewed Paul at the time he announced his departure from the Philharmonic chairmanship, he noted: “"My father always said, 'Do what you want to do - but do it well.'” "Why did I leave Wall Street?,” he added. “I'd had a pretty good run. I've always tried to do what made me happy - I go where 'happy' is," Paul said. "So what if others had made more money? My parents gave me a strong sense of giving back." Paul Guenther believes in the vital responsibility of philanthropy and in the crucial importance of non-profit organizations in particular, and affiliates only with those that are capable of making a comprehensive impact. Today, in a sense, we celebrate with gratitude his decision to choose Frost Valley as a locus of his father’s philosophy of giving. In Frost Valley Paul discovered, as he puts it, “one-stop shopping for everything that’s good in the non-profit world: programs to foster environmental awareness and good health, helping city kids get to the country, helping children with special needs.”
As a trustee, almost immediately, he began to advocate for a better health care facility at the camp. What Paul dreamed of for Frost Valley long seemed beyond our scope, beyond our capacity to fund-raise and, in the context of other priorities, took some years to take hold. In all the years between his first advocacy of a new wellness center and the time it was built in 2008, Paul strategically give generous annual gifts to fund the planning process. He had by then succeeded Woody English as Chairman, and continued advocating wellness both as a matter of responsible health care and emergency responsiveness and as an opportunity to teach children how to take care of themselves in a world of endemic obesity, diabetes, and poor diet choices. Finally, working with Jerry Huncosky as CEO, trustees Hunter Corbin and Fenn Putman, and fellow donor Eva Gottscho, his dream was realized. Characteristically, Paul put his money where his mouth has been: he supported the building of Frost Valley’s new Wellness Center with an extraordinary, organization-changing gift of $1 million. No one who attended the opening of the Guenther Family Wellness Center will ever forget the look of hopeful pride on Paul’s face. “Do what you want to do - but do it well,” his father had said, “Go where ‘happy’ is.” Happy is the teenager with a heart transplant able to attend camp for two weeks, while his parents get a much-needed rest, because of Paul’s vision to build a facility in which pediatric cardiologists could properly work. Happy is the boy with a diagnosis requiring the dispensing of complex meds in complex daily intervals, who can hike out to his overnight camping site knowing that the nurses had the institutional wherewithal to care for him in case of emergency. Happy is the girl who can supportively learn about her own well-being, how to take care of herself, how to enjoy a wellness lifestyle, talking in a seminar room with her counselor and a nurse, in a facility that is no longer about applying band-aids or making due until the ambulance arrives.
Paul loves the broad scope of the Frost Valley project, and the community of staff and volunteers here simply love him for his audacity and commitment. “Frost Valley is unique,” Paul Guenther has said, “in that it touches so many people and so many different and wonderful ways and provides an incredible service to the entire metropolitan area.” Members of the Board of Trustees of the Frost Valley YMCA with pride of colleagueship and gratitude are pleased to induct Paul B. Guenther—visionary supporter of non-profit organizations and our long-time leader—into the Frost Valley Hall of Fame.
Paul Guenther served as President of one of Wall Street’s legendarily well-reputed firms, Paine Webber. In this position, and earlier at Manufacturers Hanover Trust, he developed a broad network of contacts not only in the financial community but across New York’s social spectrum. When he later served as Chairman of the Board of Trustees of Fordham University and, from 1996 to 2006, as Chairman of the Board of the New York Philharmonic at Lincoln Center, this acute sense of the urban social and political landscape aided his efforts as a passionate supporter of the arts. The Philharmonic’s annual fund more than doubled during Paul’s ten years in charge, and this success was largely due to his almost magical connections.
Meantime, a few hours’ drive upstate, he and Diane had bought a property in remote Grahamsville, and in 1970 had begun to build a house they somehow even then knew would be meaningful to them and their children for a lifetime. The kind of connections one makes up here in the Catskills are of a sort quite different from those made in the big-city arts and finance world, and Paul began to cherish the genuineness and purity of the acquaintanceships and friendships he formed here. He still recalls in detail the finest class he taught in Sunday School at the local church. Among his brilliant students were several whose families worked and lived at Frost Valley. His own young children, needing diversion, enjoyed long rides in the country, so he and Diane drove the back roads, until one day discovering, up on the hill, the Forstmann Castle (to which Paul first responded: “Wow!”); soon they explored the whole of Frost Valley. Halbe Brown befriended him. Two of his and Diane’s children – Matt and Liz – attended summer camp. Before long he was invited by Halbe and Jim Kellogg (then President) to join the Board as a trustee.
When a reporter interviewed Paul at the time he announced his departure from the Philharmonic chairmanship, he noted: “"My father always said, 'Do what you want to do - but do it well.'” "Why did I leave Wall Street?,” he added. “I'd had a pretty good run. I've always tried to do what made me happy - I go where 'happy' is," Paul said. "So what if others had made more money? My parents gave me a strong sense of giving back." Paul Guenther believes in the vital responsibility of philanthropy and in the crucial importance of non-profit organizations in particular, and affiliates only with those that are capable of making a comprehensive impact. Today, in a sense, we celebrate with gratitude his decision to choose Frost Valley as a locus of his father’s philosophy of giving. In Frost Valley Paul discovered, as he puts it, “one-stop shopping for everything that’s good in the non-profit world: programs to foster environmental awareness and good health, helping city kids get to the country, helping children with special needs.”
As a trustee, almost immediately, he began to advocate for a better health care facility at the camp. What Paul dreamed of for Frost Valley long seemed beyond our scope, beyond our capacity to fund-raise and, in the context of other priorities, took some years to take hold. In all the years between his first advocacy of a new wellness center and the time it was built in 2008, Paul strategically give generous annual gifts to fund the planning process. He had by then succeeded Woody English as Chairman, and continued advocating wellness both as a matter of responsible health care and emergency responsiveness and as an opportunity to teach children how to take care of themselves in a world of endemic obesity, diabetes, and poor diet choices. Finally, working with Jerry Huncosky as CEO, trustees Hunter Corbin and Fenn Putman, and fellow donor Eva Gottscho, his dream was realized. Characteristically, Paul put his money where his mouth has been: he supported the building of Frost Valley’s new Wellness Center with an extraordinary, organization-changing gift of $1 million. No one who attended the opening of the Guenther Family Wellness Center will ever forget the look of hopeful pride on Paul’s face. “Do what you want to do - but do it well,” his father had said, “Go where ‘happy’ is.” Happy is the teenager with a heart transplant able to attend camp for two weeks, while his parents get a much-needed rest, because of Paul’s vision to build a facility in which pediatric cardiologists could properly work. Happy is the boy with a diagnosis requiring the dispensing of complex meds in complex daily intervals, who can hike out to his overnight camping site knowing that the nurses had the institutional wherewithal to care for him in case of emergency. Happy is the girl who can supportively learn about her own well-being, how to take care of herself, how to enjoy a wellness lifestyle, talking in a seminar room with her counselor and a nurse, in a facility that is no longer about applying band-aids or making due until the ambulance arrives.
Paul loves the broad scope of the Frost Valley project, and the community of staff and volunteers here simply love him for his audacity and commitment. “Frost Valley is unique,” Paul Guenther has said, “in that it touches so many people and so many different and wonderful ways and provides an incredible service to the entire metropolitan area.” Members of the Board of Trustees of the Frost Valley YMCA with pride of colleagueship and gratitude are pleased to induct Paul B. Guenther—visionary supporter of non-profit organizations and our long-time leader—into the Frost Valley Hall of Fame.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)





















