24 Dutchess • January / February 2008


The first thing you notice about Bruce Gustin is his positive attitude. And
his warm, welcoming smile. The twinkle in his eye. Then you see that
he’s surrounded by friends. You notice the handsome face with a hint of
a beard, and the strong neck, as big around as some people’s thigh. And,
oh yeah, he’s sitting in a pretty spiffy chair, with wheels. Bruce Gustin is
paralyzed from the neck down.
I first heard about Bruce from his friend Ray Eaton, who wanted me to meet Bruce, and write about
him, because he was the “greatest guy in the world.” That sounded like an interesting idea, so after
a couple of deep breaths, I called him up. A booming voice answered, and it turned out Ray was
close to being correct; and, like most of the world’s greatest people, Bruce doesn’t like to brag. He’s
been a quadriplegic for 35 years, with limited use of his upper arms, but no use of his hands or legs.
During those “13,000 days” (his count), Bruce has run a construction company, a snowplowing
service,  invented new wheelchairs, a stretching device and a new game called Millennium Chess.
Over the course of a few weeks, I can’t say that I got to know Bruce, but I
was certainly touched by his" joie de vivre". Naturally, he didn’t want to talk
about “the accident.” Only about his accomplishments. So we met at
the Beekman Library, where the chess club is in residence.
Millennium Chess is the game Bruce invented, and patented, to
improve the skills of the average to excellent chess player. It
looks like two chess boards glued together, but on second
glance, it’s much more.
By expanding the size of the battlefield and
increasing the number of pieces, a chess
player’s mind is forced to accept a greater
strategic load. This subconsciously
builds one’s “chess muscles.” Bruce
uses the example of an on-deck batter
swinging a weighted bat (or two bats) so
that when he steps up to the plate the real bat swings easily.
Bruce came up with the idea of Millennium Chess while
playing chess with his friends, out of a desire to make the
game more interesting. After playing Millennium Chess for a
while, he refined the rules – the first of the two kings can
be captured without placing him in check, for example –
until the new game became a real challenge.
All around the room at the Beekman Library, young chess
aficionados were practicing Millennium Chess as well as
classic chess. I sat down to play my first game of Millennium
Chess. Bruce was towering across from me in his soupedup
wheelchair (more on this later). He explained to my
wife, Sue, where to move his pieces (“Knight to A14 …
That’s the horse.”).
Now, I know how to play chess like I know how to play
football – quarterback throws, receiver catches. Luckily,
Millennium Chess is complicated enough that it took me
quite a while to make a fool of myself. Why worry about
losing a queen when you’ve got a spare?
In the eight years since Bruce first came up with the
game, he has sold (Bruce prefers the word “distributed”)
several thousand sets, priced from $49.95 for a roll-up
vinyl board with its 60 pieces to $499 for a super parquet
affair. They’re available on his Web site, www.vipchess. com,
or at the Dutchess County Fair in the Arts and Crafts
building, where Bruce demonstrates the game.
Bruce has lots of friends. Back in 1999, Bruce brought his
game onto the Sally Jessy Raphael TV show. Eddie Murphy
helped Bruce found his Millennium Chess manufacturing
company after he fell in love with the game.
Later, I got to meet some more of Bruce’s friends at his house
in Poughquag, where he was born and still lives with his dad, a
retired corrections officer (Sing-Sing and Green Haven).
Ed Van Anden is a wiry Lynyrd Skynyrd fan, and Bruce’s
almost constant companion. He lives downstairs, and
The Right  Moves
A Poughquag man transforms his natural
talents into a winning strategy for chess – and for life.
January / February 2008 • Dutchess 25
Continued on following page
26 Dutchess • January / February 2008
Continued on page 28
Bruce teaches the author how to play Millennium Chess.
supposed to be talking,” I prodded. So later I asked them
what they were “talking about.”
“Girls,” said Bruce’s dad, laughing. And then he added,
“Bruce is quite a guy.”
It was way back in 1971 when a car skidded on an icy road.
Seventeen-year-old Bruce Gustin was in the passenger seat.
“A few days earlier, I dreamed I was in a bed with curving,
shiny steel bars all around me,” he mused, finally offering to
helped rescue Bruce from a 1990 fire that burned
down the original family home (Bruce served as
general contractor when it was rebuilt on the same
foundation). Obviously, Bruce needs quite a bit of
assistance, but he has perfected a regimen that
he claims is responsible for his remarkable good
health after 35 years of immobility. Six times a
day, Ed helps Bruce into a contraption they call
the “stretcher,” fashioned from a carpenter’s
belt, roofing kneepads, a ratchet tie-down and
suspenders, powered by a 500-pound electric
winch. Bruce is lifted up for a couple of minutes
during each session, with the belt strapped just
under his shoulders, stretching his spine and
allowing blood to flow to the lower body. Ed also
helps Bruce with his diet, low in sugar, high in
protein and fiber, and plenty of fluids. And he
tends the garden, growing tomatoes, zucchini,
even watermelons.
Bruce has designed several wheelchairs, each
one getting him higher and higher off the ground,
because Bruce thinks it’s “dehumanizing” to constantly be
looked down on. The latest version is a leather Honda Acura
car seat, electric and fully adjustable, grafted onto a Quickie
486 power frame wheelchair.
Bruce asked me not to photograph him in the stretcher
– “too macabre,” he said, but I insisted on getting a shot
of him in the wheelchair talking to someone at “eye level.”
His dad volunteered. At first they were side by side. “You’re
28 Dutchess • January / February 2008
Continued from page 26
The RighT Moves
Continued on page 30
Ed Van Anden (left) handles the “stretcher” as Bruce looks on.
30 Dutchess • January / February 2008
reminisce a bit. “Then when I woke up in
the hospital, those same bars were at the
foot of my bed.”
Since that night, he’s never looked
back, only ahead to the future. During
his construction and snowplowing days
– Bruce ran the office and lined up the
customers while his friends wielded the
hammers and drove the trucks – his whole
crew would go out for shrimp Parmesan
dinners. Bruce still loves seafood, and
often dines at his favorite restaurant,
Muscoot North in Hopewell Junction.
He’s working on a computerized version
of Millennium Chess. Bruce hopes to write
a book about saving the lives of people
like himself, through a proper diet,
stretching, taking care of the skin and
lungs, and mental health.
Bruce Gustin welcomes each new day.
“Keep a positive attitude,” he says, “find
yourself a niche, and move forward.”
“Keep a positive  attitude,” he
says, “find yourself a niche, and move forward.”
This article originally appeared in the
January/February 2008 issue of Dutchess magazine and
is reprinted here with permission from Taconic Press.
Story and photos are by by Mark Adams
the moves, pictured, opposite page: Bruce with one of his two dogs, a beagle-Jack
Russell mix named Lillian; this page: Bruce Gustin’s Millennium Chess.
Thank You to Miss Kate! We he staff of  Millennium Chess THANK YOU for making thisall possible
and the help you provided ustoo set up these pages from the Magazine "Dutchess"...... Great Job
Well Done THANK YOU !
Back to the Top