In 2024, I ride for…
John “Captain Sunshine” Walsh.
Thanks to all my contributors last year, and special thanks to those who inspired me. There are a lot of you. This year, I ride in memory of my friend, colleague, mentor, inspiration, and maybe the most joyful person I have known.
I have joined Team Captain Sunshine, put together by his son Coleman. Thanks for having me Coleman.
I first met John Walsh in April, 2005. I was one of like 2 volunteers who showed up for then-unknown candidate and future governor, Deval Patrick, 18 months before that first earth-shattering election. I was attaching pens to flyers that said “Deval is Running”, to hand out along the course of the Boston Marathon. Working with me that day at the table doing the most mundane of tasks was this larger-than-life yet humble and engaging dude who kept the conversation fun and entertaining. I had no idea who he was or why he kept asking me so many questions, or correcting my clearly unpracticed pen-attaching skills.
Six or so months and countless volunteer hours later, in November, I was asked to visit John in his office. It was the day after the Boston Mayoral Election, and we could finally start organizing Boston for the February Democratic caucuses. There were about a half dozen of us who were going through our contact lists and deciding who was going to call who. When all was said and done, I realized that about 3/4 of the names to call were on my list. Ok, I had work to do, but I didn’t know what was happening.
John then asked me to join the campaign staff meeting that afternoon. Most of the staff knew this crazy over-eager a bit-too-old volunteer. At the meeting, John announced that I was now the campaign’s Boston organizer. As I looked on a bit stunned at this news, the rest of the staff looked with sorrow my way. He didn’t ask me if I wanted the gig. He knew I couldn’t turn it down. A memorable professional highlight still.
John inspired me to work hard and effectively. For years after, even up until recently, John would still introduce me to people as ‘Deval Patrick’s answer to Mayor Menino.’ I begged him to stop saying it, funny (and false) of a line as it was. He refused.
John’s superpower was his immense positivity. He could make everyone believe in his optimistic take on the world, and more often than not could will good things to happen. Some might call it spin. But Captain Sunshine really believed it, and could make the rest of us believe it too. As I learned at his funeral, his positive and strategic thinking is why we have amazing black female political leaders in our state like Ayanna Pressley and Andrea Campbell. He inspired so many people.
John’s superpower is also why I missed having the time with him after his diagnosis that I should have worked harder to get. At no point did he ever say — or seemingly ever think — his cancer was terminal. As I texted and checked in with him, he was always doing great, heading to the Cape, busy. So I missed the chance to spend real time with him. I will forever forever forever be grateful for the 30+ minutes John’s family (and Stacey, thanks!) allowed me to spend alone with John at hospice. He was mostly sleeping, but I know he heard everything.
John was my friend. My colleague. My mentor. My advisor. My reference. My source of inspiration. My reminder of the power of positive thinking. One of the smartest, most generous, caring, thoughtful people I have ever come across. He would take my call at any time. And talk with me until there was nothing left to say.
John, I am a better man because of you. I am a lot poorer without you, and so is the world.
His memory will always be a blessing for me.
I ride for John.
I note that my friend Mike, who last year at this time was diagnosed with myelofibrosis, has endured months of treatments at Dana Farber, and now is doing great. So amazed at all he's been through and how he's carried himself through it all.
----------
2023 Edition:
Summer of 2016 was a moment of hope and excitement for a positive next step in our lives for Mimi and me. In the spring we had spent a week in Ireland. In August we left our jobs, took one week of R&R in Maine, preparing to each start new jobs. While on vacation, we got the call that would change our lives. Mimi Had Colorectal Cancer. Turns out it was late-Stage 3 and verging on metastasizing. If, you are reading this, you know we got through it. I say we. Mimi’s the one who had cancer. She’s the one who had all the hardest parts — chemo, radiation, three different surgeries, new and unpredictable reactions to foods she’d eaten her whole life, and the trauma of getting through it all. In the end, she survived cancer. I survived the helplessness of being the supportive partner — not the same, but not nothing. She is now six years No Evidence of Disease (NED).
I am lucky I have her in my life. I am lucky she is still with me. I ride for Mimi.
A couple years later we learned my cousin David Fishelman had virtually the same cancer that Mimi had survived. His survival was far from assured as well. Twice he was given virtual death-sentences from his doctors — the first time he beat the odds, the second time the doctors eventually changed their prognosis. In both cases, David never stopped fighting for his life, despite tough odds. He is now 2 years NED.
David still owes me a bottle of whiskey, but of course I ride for Cousin David.
Last year, my good friend Tara Rousseau announced that she too had a rare type of cancer — neuroendocrine cancer — only discovered because of her first routine colonoscopy. They caught it early and she was sent to Dana Farber, which is one of the few places that have the expertise to handle this rare form of cancer. They were able to remove the tumor. As Tara says, I didn’t have to research, ask for second opinions, or second-guess a single iota. Not once! Something I wish everyone with any kind of cancer gets to experience. She is NED since October, 2022.
For everything she contributes to our community, and for being a great friend in my life, I ride for Tara.
Just recently my friend, colleague, mentor, and one of the most positive people I have ever met, John Walsh, was diagnosed with cancer as well. Of course, Mr. Positivity tells me he’s doing great. Immediately upon telling me he was fine, he wanted to talk politics. That is the least surprising response of all. He's still going through treatments, and expects to get through this battle.
For being an inspiration, a source of knowledge, and experience and humor, I ride for John.
I only just recently learned that my good friend Mike Berger has myelofibrosis, a rare form of blood cancer, and is in treatment at Dana Farber. Because of Dana Farber, Mike’s prognosis appears challenging but good. Mike needs a bone marrow transplant fairly soon. The list of donors is pretty substantial. Yes, I am seeking your contribution here. More important than that, though, is you might be someone’s lottery ticket to life. If you are under 40 years old, please visit https://bethematch.org/ and learn if you might be a bone marrow match for someone in need. It is a non-invasive and easy procedure. Mike has some seriously tough weeks and months ahead. The transplant is just the beginning of the journey to the other side of this disease. His friends are coming together to see how we can embrace and support Mike through this.
For all that Mike means to me, and all the good he brings to the world, I ride also for Mike.
I wish that was it. I wish I could say those 5 people are the only people in my life who have survived or we expect will survive cancer. Sadly there are so many more stories to tell.
My Papa Murray, my Uncle Joel, and Mimi's mother Faith all passed away too young because of cancer.
Also: Amy. Mom. Deborah. Nancy, Leslie, Judith, Jonny all survivors. There are certainly many more I haven't recalled.
We need Dana Farber to figure this out. It's not a moonshot. It is within our grasp, and in our lifetimes. Organizers are targeting $70M. My part: $10K.
Your contribution can help. If you have a name you want me to add to my page, please add that with your contribution. Thanks.
Additional Names (2023)
In 2024, I ride for…
John “Captain Sunshine” Walsh.
Thanks to all my contributors last year, and special thanks to those who inspired me. There are a lot of you. This year, I ride in memory of my friend, colleague, mentor, inspiration, and maybe the most joyful person I have known.
I have joined Team Captain Sunshine, put together by his son Coleman. Thanks for having me Coleman.
I first met John Walsh in April, 2005. I was one of like 2 volunteers who showed up for then-unknown candidate and future governor, Deval Patrick, 18 months before that first earth-shattering election. I was attaching pens to flyers that said “Deval is Running”, to hand out along the course of the Boston Marathon. Working with me that day at the table doing the most mundane of tasks was this larger-than-life yet humble and engaging dude who kept the conversation fun and entertaining. I had no idea who he was or why he kept asking me so many questions, or correcting my clearly unpracticed pen-attaching skills.
Six or so months and countless volunteer hours later, in November, I was asked to visit John in his office. It was the day after the Boston Mayoral Election, and we could finally start organizing Boston for the February Democratic caucuses. There were about a half dozen of us who were going through our contact lists and deciding who was going to call who. When all was said and done, I realized that about 3/4 of the names to call were on my list. Ok, I had work to do, but I didn’t know what was happening.
John then asked me to join the campaign staff meeting that afternoon. Most of the staff knew this crazy over-eager a bit-too-old volunteer. At the meeting, John announced that I was now the campaign’s Boston organizer. As I looked on a bit stunned at this news, the rest of the staff looked with sorrow my way. He didn’t ask me if I wanted the gig. He knew I couldn’t turn it down. A memorable professional highlight still.
John inspired me to work hard and effectively. For years after, even up until recently, John would still introduce me to people as ‘Deval Patrick’s answer to Mayor Menino.’ I begged him to stop saying it, funny (and false) of a line as it was. He refused.
John’s superpower was his immense positivity. He could make everyone believe in his optimistic take on the world, and more often than not could will good things to happen. Some might call it spin. But Captain Sunshine really believed it, and could make the rest of us believe it too. As I learned at his funeral, his positive and strategic thinking is why we have amazing black female political leaders in our state like Ayanna Pressley and Andrea Campbell. He inspired so many people.
John’s superpower is also why I missed having the time with him after his diagnosis that I should have worked harder to get. At no point did he ever say — or seemingly ever think — his cancer was terminal. As I texted and checked in with him, he was always doing great, heading to the Cape, busy. So I missed the chance to spend real time with him. I will forever forever forever be grateful for the 30+ minutes John’s family (and Stacey, thanks!) allowed me to spend alone with John at hospice. He was mostly sleeping, but I know he heard everything.
John was my friend. My colleague. My mentor. My advisor. My reference. My source of inspiration. My reminder of the power of positive thinking. One of the smartest, most generous, caring, thoughtful people I have ever come across. He would take my call at any time. And talk with me until there was nothing left to say.
John, I am a better man because of you. I am a lot poorer without you, and so is the world.
His memory will always be a blessing for me.
I ride for John.
I note that my friend Mike, who last year at this time was diagnosed with myelofibrosis, has endured months of treatments at Dana Farber, and now is doing great. So amazed at all he's been through and how he's carried himself through it all.
----------
2023 Edition:
Summer of 2016 was a moment of hope and excitement for a positive next step in our lives for Mimi and me. In the spring we had spent a week in Ireland. In August we left our jobs, took one week of R&R in Maine, preparing to each start new jobs. While on vacation, we got the call that would change our lives. Mimi Had Colorectal Cancer. Turns out it was late-Stage 3 and verging on metastasizing. If, you are reading this, you know we got through it. I say we. Mimi’s the one who had cancer. She’s the one who had all the hardest parts — chemo, radiation, three different surgeries, new and unpredictable reactions to foods she’d eaten her whole life, and the trauma of getting through it all. In the end, she survived cancer. I survived the helplessness of being the supportive partner — not the same, but not nothing. She is now six years No Evidence of Disease (NED).
I am lucky I have her in my life. I am lucky she is still with me. I ride for Mimi.
A couple years later we learned my cousin David Fishelman had virtually the same cancer that Mimi had survived. His survival was far from assured as well. Twice he was given virtual death-sentences from his doctors — the first time he beat the odds, the second time the doctors eventually changed their prognosis. In both cases, David never stopped fighting for his life, despite tough odds. He is now 2 years NED.
David still owes me a bottle of whiskey, but of course I ride for Cousin David.
Last year, my good friend Tara Rousseau announced that she too had a rare type of cancer — neuroendocrine cancer — only discovered because of her first routine colonoscopy. They caught it early and she was sent to Dana Farber, which is one of the few places that have the expertise to handle this rare form of cancer. They were able to remove the tumor. As Tara says, I didn’t have to research, ask for second opinions, or second-guess a single iota. Not once! Something I wish everyone with any kind of cancer gets to experience. She is NED since October, 2022.
For everything she contributes to our community, and for being a great friend in my life, I ride for Tara.
Just recently my friend, colleague, mentor, and one of the most positive people I have ever met, John Walsh, was diagnosed with cancer as well. Of course, Mr. Positivity tells me he’s doing great. Immediately upon telling me he was fine, he wanted to talk politics. That is the least surprising response of all. He's still going through treatments, and expects to get through this battle.
For being an inspiration, a source of knowledge, and experience and humor, I ride for John.
I only just recently learned that my good friend Mike Berger has myelofibrosis, a rare form of blood cancer, and is in treatment at Dana Farber. Because of Dana Farber, Mike’s prognosis appears challenging but good. Mike needs a bone marrow transplant fairly soon. The list of donors is pretty substantial. Yes, I am seeking your contribution here. More important than that, though, is you might be someone’s lottery ticket to life. If you are under 40 years old, please visit https://bethematch.org/ and learn if you might be a bone marrow match for someone in need. It is a non-invasive and easy procedure. Mike has some seriously tough weeks and months ahead. The transplant is just the beginning of the journey to the other side of this disease. His friends are coming together to see how we can embrace and support Mike through this.
For all that Mike means to me, and all the good he brings to the world, I ride also for Mike.
I wish that was it. I wish I could say those 5 people are the only people in my life who have survived or we expect will survive cancer. Sadly there are so many more stories to tell.
My Papa Murray, my Uncle Joel, and Mimi's mother Faith all passed away too young because of cancer.
Also: Amy. Mom. Deborah. Nancy, Leslie, Judith, Jonny all survivors. There are certainly many more I haven't recalled.
We need Dana Farber to figure this out. It's not a moonshot. It is within our grasp, and in our lifetimes. Organizers are targeting $70M. My part: $10K.
Your contribution can help. If you have a name you want me to add to my page, please add that with your contribution. Thanks.
Additional Names (2023)
I have chosen to keep all of my donors' information confidential; therefore it is not displayed on my PMC public donor list.
| 2024 | $6,569.00 | Sturbridge to Bourne (1-Day, Sat) |
| 2023 | $11,240.00 | Sturbridge to Bourne (1-Day, Sat) |
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Reuben Kantor