What do you say about a man who was truly an incredible human being?

Everyone says that about the people they love. But in Gutie’s case, it wasn’t just family saying it. Anyone who encountered John “Gutie” Gutenberger knew almost immediately that they were in the presence of a kind, considerate, wise and generous soul. He had a way of making people feel seen, heard, welcomed—and, more often than not, entertained.

John Craft Gutenberger was born on June 8, 1942, in Ithaca, New York, to Charles and Gladys (O’Connor) Gutenberger. An only child, he spent many of his early years growing up on Cayuga Lake. He was known simply as “Gutie” to everyone, and he collected friendships the way other people collect souvenirs. Many of those childhood friendships lasted a lifetime.

But the most important person he met as a young man was his beloved wife, Mary (Egan) Gutenberger.

Mary asked Gutie to a Sadie Hawkins party in ninth grade, and apparently Gutie knew a good thing when he saw it. Eight years of dating and sixty-two years of marriage later, the rest really was history. Mary and Gutie were best friends, confidants, partners in crime, dance partners, teammates and soul mates. Through every chapter of life, they were side by side.

Together, they raised four children in a home filled with love, laughter, friends, food, opinions, advice and a fair amount of noise.

The Gutenberger house was never just a house. It was a gathering place.

Friends knew they could show up anytime. Gutie would be there with a joke, a story, guidance, a ride, a shoulder to lean on, or simply an ear to listen. He was a fierce advocate for his family and for anyone lucky enough to cross his path. He had an extraordinary ability to make people feel that whatever problem they were facing was manageable—and that they certainly didn’t have to face it alone.

Gutie graduated from Michigan State University’s Hotel School and began his career with the Marriott Corporation. Eventually, he returned to Ithaca to raise his family with Mary and began working at his in-laws’ grocery store, Egan’s IGA. He later purchased the Collegetown store from Rita and Frank Egan.

Running a grocery store while raising four children would have been enough to keep most people busy. But “busy” was never really Gutie’s speed limit.

He coached Little League, supported countless community causes, helped friends and neighbors, and somehow always found time to give back to the community he loved so much.

That commitment eventually led him into public service. After serving as an alderperson on the Ithaca Common Council, Gutie became Mayor of the City of Ithaca, serving three terms from 1984 to 1990. He was a proud Democrat, but more importantly, he was a proud believer in people. He was proudly middle-of-the-road and had no trouble reaching across the aisle when he believed it would lead to a fair and just outcome.

He believed strongly in doing unto others as you would have them do unto you.

And Gutie didn’t just talk about that philosophy.

He lived it.

As mayor, he was instrumental in creating the Ithaca Commons, helping shape the city he loved. And because apparently Ithaca winters weren’t already challenging enough, he also created one of his most memorable civic contributions: the Ithaca Slush Festival.

Yes, a festival celebrating slush.

Only Gutie.

There may be a need to bring that tradition back someday—not because Ithaca necessarily needs more slush, but because the city could certainly use more of Gutie’s particular brand of optimism, creativity and fun.

After leaving politics, Gutie brought his passion for community, his knowledge, his relationships and his remarkable ability to bring people together to Cornell University. He joined Cornell’s Office of Community Relations in 1990 and spent the next 27 years leading the department and building bridges between Cornell, the City of Ithaca, Tompkins County and the surrounding community.

His colleagues and friends came to regard him as the “father of Cornell Community Relations.” And the title was well earned.

Gutie believed deeply that universities, local government and the communities they share should work together whenever possible. He had a remarkable ability to listen to different perspectives, find common ground and help people move toward solutions that served the broader community.

At his retirement in 2017, Cornell recognized him for “27 years of meritorious town-gown service.” He was praised for his large heart, steady hand and ability to find solutions that advanced the common good. He received the key to the City of Ithaca, as well as proclamations from Cornell, the City and Tompkins County.

But Gutie was never particularly interested in titles or recognition.

He was interested in people.

He remembered them.

He listened to them.

He helped them.

And he made them laugh.

He mentored countless people throughout his career. He gave advice freely and thoughtfully. He helped with résumés, cover letters, papers and speeches. He was an exceptional writer and orator, and if you ever handed Gutie something you had written, you could be reasonably sure you were about to get some very helpful edits.

He touched an extraordinary number of lives.

And somehow, despite meeting heads of countries, dignitaries, diplomats, governors, university presidents and countless other important people, Gutie never seemed particularly impressed by titles. He was much more interested in whether someone was kind, genuine and willing to work together.

His quick wit and wonderful sense of humor were impossible to miss. His nieces and nephews spent countless hours memorizing the words to a ridiculous tongue-twister song Uncle Gutie somehow came up with. Decades later, that song remains a staple of family gatherings.

That is perhaps the best measure of Gutie’s legacy.

Not the titles.

Not the accomplishments.

Not the awards.

The stories.

The stories that get told over and over because everyone wants to hear them one more time.

Gutie was also a fiercely loyal friend. He was the person you could call. The person who would show up. The person who would have your back. He had an incredible calm demeanor that drew people toward him. Even when life was complicated, Gutie had a way of making you feel like everything would work out.

And then there was his softer side.

Gutie was, by all accounts, a total mush.

He cried at the drop of a hat. A nice sentiment? Tears. A funny joke? Tears. A touching story? Definitely tears.

He could go from delivering a perfectly timed joke to wiping his eyes in approximately three seconds.

He loved the Yankees and took his bride to see a Yankee doubleheader to kick off their honeymoon in 1964. Unfortunately, there are no photographs of that memorable trip—because Gutie forgot to take the lens cap off the camera.

He apparently discovered this only on the last day of the honeymoon, when a kind stranger finally pointed it out.

In fairness, Gutie spent the rest of his life making up for that photographic oversight by giving his family approximately 62 years’ worth of stories.

He loved golf—both playing it and watching it on television. He was a Giants fan. He loved music and was a wonderful dancer, always happy to cut a rug with Mary by his side.

And if ABBA came on the radio?

Nobody was sitting down.

Neil Diamond and Peter, Paul & Mary were also favorites, but ABBA had a special ability to activate Gutie’s inner dance floor.

Later in life, he developed a passion for gardening. Gardening gave him peace, solitude and a chance to connect with the outdoors.

This was particularly impressive considering Gutie had sensitive skin and was allergic to the sun.

Most people might have taken that as a sign to stay inside.

Not Gutie.

He simply covered himself from head to toe in protective clothing and went outside anyway.

Because apparently even the sun wasn’t going to tell Gutie what he could and couldn’t do.

He was also incredibly talented with his hands and developed a true gift for woodworking. He created beautiful pieces for his family, children and grandchildren—gifts that will continue to carry his fingerprints, his creativity and his love long after he is gone.

But perhaps his favorite role of all came later in life:

Grandpa.

Gutie was happiest when he was surrounded by family. He loved being involved in the lives of his grandchildren and was a happily willing chauffeur whenever they needed him.

He took each of his grandson’s for their first haircut—a small family tradition that, like so many things Gutie did, was never really about the haircut.

It was about time together.

Time to talk.

Time to joke.

Time to listen.

Time to simply be Gutie and Grandpa.

Gutie gave the shirt off his back. He showed up. He gave advice. He offered encouragement. He made people laugh. He made people feel welcome. He gave his time generously and his love completely.

He leaves behind not simply a family, but a community of people who were better because they knew him.

Gutie is survived by his adoring wife of 62 years, Mary; his son, Tom Gutenberger; daughters Karie Gutenberger Allison (Grahame Littlefair), Susie Gutenberger Fitzpatrick (Michael Fitzpatrick), and Kristin Gutenberger Grossman (Peter Grossman); daughter-in-law, Linda (Schmidt) Gutenberger, and his beloved grandchildren Morgan (Trey) Sledge, Casey Gutenberger, Egan Gutenberger, Corey Gutenberger, Kyler Allison, Owen Allison, Aidan Allison, Emmit Allison, Olive Fitzpatrick, Oriel Fitzpatrick, Mick Fitzpatrick, John Grossman and Mary Grossman.

He is also survived by sisters-in-law Betty Watkins and Ann Egan, brother-in-law Don Egan, and many nieces and nephews who were lucky enough to call him Uncle Gutie - including; Rita (Ron) Vickroy, Terry Egan, Tami Egan Addy (Dan Addy), Jamie Egan, Frank Egan, Stacey Egan, Jill Egan (Doug Cantanzaro), Michele (Mike) Cyran, Tim (Anna) Egan, Laura Watkins, Sarah Watkins, Adam Watkins (Sharon Smith). Gutie is predeceased by his sister-in law, Alyce Egan, and brothers-in-law; Bruce Watkins and Jim Egan.

And, of course, he leaves behind countless friends, colleagues, neighbors, community members and people whose lives he touched in ways he probably never even realized.

Gutie’s life was long, full and extraordinarily well lived.

He was a husband, father, father-in-law, grandfather, friend, mentor, businessman, public servant, community leader, writer, storyteller, dancer, gardener, woodworker, Yankees fan, Giants fan, chauffeur, advocate, counselor and—above all else—one hell of a human being.

He taught those around him that kindness matters.

That showing up matters.

That listening matters.

That a good joke can make a difficult day better.

That helping someone else is never a waste of time.

That you can disagree with someone and still treat them with respect.

And that life is meant to be lived with the people you love.

So, Gutie, thank you.

Thank you for every ride.

Every first haircut.

Every joke.

Every dance.

Every piece of advice.

Every résumé edit.

Every woodworking project.

Every garden.

Every Yankees game.

Every tear.

Every laugh.

Every open door.

Every time you had our backs.

And thank you most of all for giving us 84 years of knowing what it looks like to be a genuinely good man.

We will miss you more than words can say.

But we promise to keep telling the stories.

We’ll keep singing the ridiculous tongue-twister song.

We’ll dance when ABBA comes on.

We’ll try to remember to take the lens cap off the camera.

And whenever somebody needs a ride, some advice, a good laugh, or someone in their corner, we’ll think of you.

Rest easy, Gutie.

Your shift as chauffeur is finally over.

Your passengers will miss you terribly.

In lieu of flowers, to honor John Gutenberger’s remarkable legacy as a community leader and former mayor, memorial contributions may be made to the Community Foundation of Tompkins County. Gifts may be made at https://www.cftompkins.org/ or mailed to 200 E. Buffalo Street, Suite 202, Ithaca, NY 14850.

Calling hours will be held Friday, September 4th from 5-7pm in the Parish Hall at St. Catherine of Siena. A mass of Christian burial will be held on Saturday, September 5th at 11am in St. Catherine of Siena.