Friendship and Kinship

Men who never met share special ‘reunion’ at festival

The Great American Brass Band Festival is a time when a lot of friends and families gather for annual reunions. But there probably isn’t a more special reunion this weekend than the one being held by Woody Guerrant of Danville and Matthew Morton of Orange, Calif.
At first glance, Guerrant’s and Morton’s meeting wouldn’t qualify as a reunion. Before Thursday the two men had never met before.
Also, reunions traditionally consist of family members or longtime friends getting together. Guerrant and Morton aren’t members of the same family and aren’t longtime friends.
But when you find out more about their relationship, you’ll learn that, in a sense, the two had met before and you’ll discover that, in a different but very real sort of way, they are blood relations. You might even call them blood brothers.
They are forever connected through a bone marrow transplant that occurred nearly two years ago.
Inside Guerrant’s body is Morton’s bone marrow. Inside his heart is a family-like affection for the man who helped save his life.
“It’s hard to put into words what I feel for Matt and what he did for me,” said Guerrant, 56, a veteran Danville Realtor and community leader. “I’ve been able to enjoy, as much as I physically can, my life because of his generosity and sacrifice.”
The feeling is more than mutual for Morton.
“If it weren’t for the transplant, I would never have gotten to meet Woody or his great family,” said Morton, 29, a police detective, who is staying with Guerrant at his Argyll Drive home. “I’ve been able to help somebody with a serious disease and, in the bargain, make a new friend.”
The good news of this unique kind of friendship and kinship stems from the bad news that confronted Guerrant in the spring of 2001. Doctors had diagnosed a bone marrow disease, one that likely would take his life unless he could find a marrow donor.
Guerrant gave a sample of his blood to the National Marrow Donor Association, and the organization went to work looking for a match.
Meanwhile, more than 2,000 miles away in Southern California, Morton donated a sample of his marrow to the NMDA. He made the donation hoping his marrow would match that of a fellow police officer who had leukemia.
As it turned out, Morton’s colleague was able to battle his disease with his own stem cells and the leukemia is now in remission. But Morton later found out that his donation would be useful.
In the summer of 2001, the NMDA notified both men that there had been a preliminary match of their marrow and blood samples. But there was still more testing to do.
“It was an ongoing process where they took some additional samples and continually refined the process to find matches of the tissues in our blood,” said Guerrant.
In order for doctors to declare a perfect match and, thus, authorize a transplant, Guerrant’s and Morton’s samples had to match in 10 specific areas. Their samples matched in nine of the 10 areas.
“We weren’t a perfect match because it was discovered that I was missing a gene,” said Guerrant. “But it was close enough for the doctors to order the transplant.”
The call about the go-ahead for the transplant came to Guerrant in early August 2001. The news came at a time when Guerrant’s condition was starting to worsen and his hope for a transplant was starting to slip.
“I was reaching the danger point. I was very worried about my condition,” he said. “When I got the call, I was absolutely elated. There weren’t a lot of words in our house, but there were a lot of tears.”
In September 2001 Guerrant made the trip to Seattle where he checked into the University of Washington Hospital, which is part of the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance, to get ready for the transplant. “It’s the mecca of bone marrow treatment,” Guerrant said of the hospital and alliance.
For eight days, Guerrant received “massive doses of chemotherapy” to completely kill off his immune system and ready his body for the new system that would come from Morton’s marrow.
In the meantime, Morton entered a hospital near his California home for the harvesting of his marrow. He had taken a course where he was told what to expect from the procedure. After the procedure, he was given a drug to help his own bone marrow and stem cells regenerate.
“I was in the hospital two days and, for six hours each day, they took blood out of one arm, removed bone marrow stem cells from that blood and then put it back into me through the other arm,” he said. “It wasn’t really too painful, but it did hurt a little bit.”
The transplant was scheduled for Sept. 21, 2001, and the process on both ends appeared to be on schedule. But just after Guerrant had started receiving chemotherapy, concern developed over whether a plane would be able to transport Morton’s marrow from California to Washington. The source of the concern was the Sept. 11 terrorist attack on America and the chaos it was causing flight schedules around the country.
“We decided to take our chances and proceed with the chemo and hope not every plane would be grounded,” Guerrant said. “As it turned out, a plane was available, the donation arrived on time, and the transplant went off as scheduled.”
The transplant was far less painful and much less time-consuming for Guerrant than the virtually uneventful marrow cell removal had been for Morton.
“I was told beforehand that the transplant would be anticlimatic, and it was,” Guerrant said. “It only took a half hour.”
Guerrant’s recuperation has taken much longer but, so far, has gone well.
After staying at the Seattle hospital until December 2001, he returned home to Danville and has been slowly but surely regaining his strength — and his life — ever since.
“My blood count is very good and my marrow, that gift Matt gave me, is functioning normally,” said Guerrant. “I spent most of the first year after the transplant at home. Now I’m able to go out some, including to work and out to eat.”
However, he has experienced some complications, including a condition called graft-vs.-host syndrome in which his new immune system sometimes is fighting his organs. He takes a drug which, for the most part, has controlled the syndrome.
“Basically, my immune system is Matt’s immune system and it sees my tissues, including organs, as foreign tissues and wants to attack them,” Guerrant said. “It has affected the eyes, mouth and digestive system.”
He also must be careful when he’s out in public to avoid people with coughs or sneezes so he does not contract any germs that might trigger illnesses. 
Guerrant also has been able to put in a few hours a day at his office at Guerrant Real Estate, continuing a career that began 33 years ago. But he said he has pretty much left the day-to-day operation of the business in the “very capable hands” of his wife, Evelyn, and their son, Ben.
Guerrant and his wife are especially thankful to Ben for the abrupt decision he made back when his father’s illness was first discovered. Ben, who was a senior at Transylvania University at the time, wasn’t considering a career in real estate. But he decided to choose it so he could help his parents keep the business going. 
“What Ben did was so unselfish, such a sacrifice,” said Guerrant. “I’m so grateful to him for what he did for me.”
Guerrant also is grateful for Morton. They know each other’s identity during much of the process, but since the transplant, they have been given information about the other and have exchanged some letters and e-mails. 
“Matt’s thoughtfulness to help others, even people he doesn’t know, is proof that God has blessed him. I want him to know that he has blessed me and to thank him for what he did for me,” Guerrant said.
Guerrant wanted to give his thanks in person, and he couldn’t think of a better time for a meeting between the two than the band festival. They are using the occasion to reinforce a bond that goes beyond a medical procedure, to turn a 30-minute operation into a lifelong friendship.
“I chose the festival because It’s a time when there’s a lot of activity in Danville,” Guerrant said. “It’s also a time for families to get together, and I feel like Matt is family. He definitely is a part of me.”

This story ran in the Advocate on June 15, 2003.