From Publishers Weekly
Bounds and her partner lived across the street from the World Trade Center; they both wrote for the
Wall Street Journal and were getting ready to go to work when the planes struck the towers on 9/11. They made their way to friends uptown, and in the following months, they parked themselves in a variety of temporary accommodations, as their building was uninhabitable. One friend brought them to Guinan's, an old Irish bar in the small, upper Hudson River town of Garrison, N.Y.—and Bounds soon felt at home. She gradually let herself become enmeshed in the Guinan family saga, as well as in the intertwined tales of the regular customers. Before long, "the invisible red velvet rope" lifted, and she was helping out at the bar and setting up shop when the aging owner was hospitalized for diabetes-related surgery, buying a ramshackle home nearby and generally becoming included in the Guinan extended family. Bounds's story isn't flashy or dramatic; it's as low-key as her new, non-Manhattan friends. It modestly reminds us that in this uncertain world, when you come to a place that speaks to you, you should hold it dear and treasure it while it lasts. Photos.
Agent, David Black. (July) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From Booklist
A Metro North commuter line snakes out of New York City along the Hudson River, and one of its stops is a store with an attached tavern. The establishment's sociology is Bounds' topic, one she adopted serendipitously as a result of September 11. The terrorist attacks damaged her apartment and workplace, the
Wall Street Journal; she and her partner found what they initially intended to be temporary refuge in the town of Garrison. She eventually moved there permanently, an outgrowth of her increasing familiarity with the tavern's proprietor, Irishman Jim Guinan, his family, and the bar's regulars. Over beers and smokes, their life stories bounce around the bar with the mock-insults of people who've known one another over the 40 years Guinan's been in business. The slower pace appeals to Bounds, and she adjusts to its rhythms, filling in behind the bar as the torch passes from Guinan to his son. Without gauzy romanticism, Bounds captures the warmth of the place and the rootedness it symbolizes.
Gilbert TaylorCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
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