Voice of the Mountaintop falls silent
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Guy Patrick Garraghan, a driving force behind Hunter Mountain’s festivals, dies at 64
By Michael Ryan
Hudson-Catskill Newspapers
WINDHAM — There isn’t going to be any dolefulness or dreariness allowed on the premises when memorial services are held for Guy Patrick Garraghan, this weekend, at Windham Mountain.
Garraghan, the well-known “Morning Man” for radio station WRIP in Windham, died on Tuesday night after suffering a massive aneurism while driving home from his beloved work place.
He was airlifted to Albany Medical Center where emergency surgery was performed. There was barely a one-in-four chance the procedure would save him but Garraghan would’ve willingly tossed the dice and his family understood that, so they did too.
Garraghan will be cremated and have his ashes spread, next spring, on the beach in Castle Main, Ireland, the source of his ancestral roots.The same Gaelic winds that disperse his earthly remains will now and forever be joined with his instantly recognizable voice.
The sound of Garraghan’s self-described “caterwauling” over the past eleven years on WRIP and for sixteen years before that on WCKL, across the Rip Van Winkle Bridge, won’t be easy to get out of anyone’s mind who’s ever heard it.
He good-naturedly confessed once that he had no idea why anybody would dial him in from 6 a.m. to 9 a.m. every weekday, saying, “I’ve been around so long I don’t even listen to myself anymore. It’s nothing but mumbling to me.”
His self-effacing sense of humor was his unending charm, though, and why he has been a radio mainstay for nearly three decades and why his daughter, Kristen, the day after her father’s passing, said, "we don’t want anything gloomy going on" during the memorial services, at 2 p.m., on Sunday.
“My dad was always trying to make people laugh,” Kristen says. “He would take the worst situations and make them funny. It’s my dad, so I can say I could even go to a funeral with him and he would find a way to make me smile.”
Guy Patrick, who was born and raised in Windham, would approve, therefore, of telling the tale, herein, of the Irish mother who, while penning a letter to her son in America, wrote, in her thick brogue, “I’d have sent you some money but I already sealed the envelope.”
Garraghan’s dream was to be a Major League baseball play-by-play announcer and even though Red Barber beat him to it, Garraghan discovered similarly deep contentment staying in his hometown and would love it that a sports joke was told here too.The New York Giants have won two Super Bowls in the past 20 years, but they were not always a championship caliber football team, often dwelling in the cellar while struggling mightily to reach the end zone, giving rise to this humorous query:
“What’s the best way to keep Giants out of your backyard?”
“Put up some goal posts.”
All will be forgiven, though, if a few tears fall this coming Sunday afternoon. Jay Fink, who is Garraghan’s sidekick at WRIP, noted music that was near and dear to the Morning Man was played on air pretty much all day on Wednesday.
“It’s the only thing we could think of that gave us some degree of comfort,” Fink said. “It was music from Guy’s personal file, songs from the 60’s, stuff he probably listened to when he was in Viet Nam," serving a 4-year stint in the Air Force.
“Guy was in perfect health when he left the station at 5:15 on Tuesday night,” Fink said. “He got in his car and was driving down South Street toward Ashland like he’d done who knows how many times. He was less than a mile away when it happened.
“We’re plugging along because we have to but we’re pretty beat up. if it wasn’t for Guy, there wouldn’t be a radio station here, and I’m not just saying that to be nice. He is a big loss to us. The only thing he loved more than WRIP was his family.”
Whether by coincidence or fate, Garraghan’s son Jimmy was the first to come upon his father, travelling the same route home from work. Four hours later, after the chopper ride to Albany and desperate surgery, the call came in that the voice was silenced.
“The last words I heard my father say, that morning, were, ‘Anything for you Kristen. Anything at all,” says Garraghan’s daughter, noting that in lieu of flowers the family requests donations be offered to the Adaptive Sports Foundation at Windham Mountain.
“We want this to be a celebration of my dad’s life,” Kristen says, “remembering things like that red mini-Cooper of his and holding court in front of the post office every morning, gabbing with everybody in town and making them laugh. Most of all, making them laugh.”
Garraghan, the well-known “Morning Man” for radio station WRIP in Windham, died on Tuesday night after suffering a massive aneurism while driving home from his beloved work place.
He was airlifted to Albany Medical Center where emergency surgery was performed. There was barely a one-in-four chance the procedure would save him but Garraghan would’ve willingly tossed the dice and his family understood that, so they did too.
Garraghan will be cremated and have his ashes spread, next spring, on the beach in Castle Main, Ireland, the source of his ancestral roots.The same Gaelic winds that disperse his earthly remains will now and forever be joined with his instantly recognizable voice.
The sound of Garraghan’s self-described “caterwauling” over the past eleven years on WRIP and for sixteen years before that on WCKL, across the Rip Van Winkle Bridge, won’t be easy to get out of anyone’s mind who’s ever heard it.
He good-naturedly confessed once that he had no idea why anybody would dial him in from 6 a.m. to 9 a.m. every weekday, saying, “I’ve been around so long I don’t even listen to myself anymore. It’s nothing but mumbling to me.”
His self-effacing sense of humor was his unending charm, though, and why he has been a radio mainstay for nearly three decades and why his daughter, Kristen, the day after her father’s passing, said, "we don’t want anything gloomy going on" during the memorial services, at 2 p.m., on Sunday.
“My dad was always trying to make people laugh,” Kristen says. “He would take the worst situations and make them funny. It’s my dad, so I can say I could even go to a funeral with him and he would find a way to make me smile.”
Guy Patrick, who was born and raised in Windham, would approve, therefore, of telling the tale, herein, of the Irish mother who, while penning a letter to her son in America, wrote, in her thick brogue, “I’d have sent you some money but I already sealed the envelope.”
Garraghan’s dream was to be a Major League baseball play-by-play announcer and even though Red Barber beat him to it, Garraghan discovered similarly deep contentment staying in his hometown and would love it that a sports joke was told here too.The New York Giants have won two Super Bowls in the past 20 years, but they were not always a championship caliber football team, often dwelling in the cellar while struggling mightily to reach the end zone, giving rise to this humorous query:
“What’s the best way to keep Giants out of your backyard?”
“Put up some goal posts.”
All will be forgiven, though, if a few tears fall this coming Sunday afternoon. Jay Fink, who is Garraghan’s sidekick at WRIP, noted music that was near and dear to the Morning Man was played on air pretty much all day on Wednesday.
“It’s the only thing we could think of that gave us some degree of comfort,” Fink said. “It was music from Guy’s personal file, songs from the 60’s, stuff he probably listened to when he was in Viet Nam," serving a 4-year stint in the Air Force.
“Guy was in perfect health when he left the station at 5:15 on Tuesday night,” Fink said. “He got in his car and was driving down South Street toward Ashland like he’d done who knows how many times. He was less than a mile away when it happened.
“We’re plugging along because we have to but we’re pretty beat up. if it wasn’t for Guy, there wouldn’t be a radio station here, and I’m not just saying that to be nice. He is a big loss to us. The only thing he loved more than WRIP was his family.”
Whether by coincidence or fate, Garraghan’s son Jimmy was the first to come upon his father, travelling the same route home from work. Four hours later, after the chopper ride to Albany and desperate surgery, the call came in that the voice was silenced.
“The last words I heard my father say, that morning, were, ‘Anything for you Kristen. Anything at all,” says Garraghan’s daughter, noting that in lieu of flowers the family requests donations be offered to the Adaptive Sports Foundation at Windham Mountain.
“We want this to be a celebration of my dad’s life,” Kristen says, “remembering things like that red mini-Cooper of his and holding court in front of the post office every morning, gabbing with everybody in town and making them laugh. Most of all, making them laugh.”
This is a very sad thing.
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