Mr. Sullivan

The street I grew up on had several large families. I had 5 kids in my family. I can name several that had families that size. But, the largest family on our street had 9 kids.

The street name was “Hemlock Avenue” in Kingston, NY … It even sounded like the perfect street….. filled with tight knit families and many kids… It truly was a great street to grow up on.

Turns out, my childhood best friend was the youngest of that family with 9 kids.

I was at her house a lot.

That house was so fun and full of life. Not that my own house was not, but my dad worked nights and had to sleep during the day. So, at my house…we always felt the need to be more calm and quiet for that reason.

My parents and the parents of this large family I speak of were very good friends.

The father of this large family was a good man. His name was Mr. Sullivan.

He treated me so well. He lit up when he saw me and called me “DOLL”.

Here is just one example of something that was especially nice that Mr. Sullivan did for me….

Although he had NINE of his own kids, he took a lot of time  to show me how to play softball. He really wanted me to be able to “TRY OUT” for a little league team. Back in those days you really had to try out and really had to be accepted and chosen on to a team.

There we stood on that little side street that paralleled  his back door .. Tubby Street was the name ..

He worked with me on how to use the glove to catch the ball and how to throw the ball by stepping your foot forward.

Mr. Sullivan pitched the ball to me so I could learn how to bat. He gave me pointers. One time, he mis-threw the softball while pitching it, and the ball bonked me in the nose. My nose started to bleed. I was not upset. Remember, I was the youngest of 5, I could handle that…Mr. S felt so awful about it. He ran inside as quick as he could to get me a papertowel and told me to put my head up and squeeze my nose. He really felt terrible.

The ironic part is that this man would never hurt a fly. He was a sweet, kind man…

For years and years he brought up the bloody nose incident because he felt so awful about it.  It became a “remember that time that  I ….”  type of story….

I remember he told me that I could go with him and his daughter (my bestie) on the day of tryouts. He would give me a ride to the little league field. My own father couldn’t bring me because he was sleeping due to his work schedule and my mother did not have a drivers license…

I remember it was gloomy and raining a little bit.. that morning of tryouts. I feel like I didn’t really do that well. But, guess what ?!!…I made it onto a team. Thanks to Mr. Sullivan, I was on a team. My own softball team that I tried out for… That was huge for me !!

Granted, I was never the best softball player in the world, but that was my own fault for not being naturally athletic.

Again, this man had 9 kids of his own and he put in the time and effort to help this little blonde haired, blue eyed , ragamuffin who lived down the street to learn to play a sport and encouraged her to do so. At that time in my life, no one had ever done anything like that for me.

Over the span of probably 8 years, I spent countless hours at that families house. They always, always treated me like their 10th child.

It was fun there… You  literally could play fun background music in your head….while picturing the good times being had….., like they do in the movies….when people are having fun times , doing fun things together…

Because of the era in which I grew up, the music would probably be Rod Stewart or Barry Manilow. Well, now that I think about it … I think that music was actually, for real,  playing in the background – Through stereo speakers that they would lean against the screen in their dining room window, volume up high , facing outward and blaring the tunes… while the fun was being had outside in their yard !..

They had a large hill in their side yard. My friend and I would run up that hill, and lay down sideways, then let our bodies go and just roll and roll back down the hill. Always giggling when we reached the bottom because we were so dizzy.

We swam in their pool, did cannon balls off their diving board, and played marco polo.

When it was time for lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Sullivan would be in their kitchen, slapping together “peanut butter and fluff” sandwiches on white wonder bread.. like an assembly line. There was so many kids eating lunch.. , Mrs. Sullivan would walk out with a large cafeteria tray. .. “Fluff-a-nutter” sandwiches stacked in a pyramid. The sandwiches were cut corner to corner, layered on paper towels ..And …Guess what ?  ….There was always a sandwich there for me.

When it was a hot summer night, and Mr. Sullivan wanted to bring his family out for ice cream at the local soft serve walk up icecream stand – Mickeys Igloo – He just assumed I was getting in their wood paneled station wagon and joining them….Never an issue, I was always included …

Such great memories of a great man and a great family…

I wanted to share these memories of Mr. Sullivan……..

Because, today, I will be attending his funeral.  I will be playing these memories in my head as we all celebrate his life….

Little Colleen Dymond down the street was just a SMALL part of this man’s life, but that sniplet of my childhood memories with him will always have a special, LARGE place in my heart.

~~In memory of Mr. Philip Sullivan ~~

I will always be your “DOLL” …..