Rear Admiral William Sullivan

Famous, But Forgotten, Lawrencian Gets His Due

Milling Around

Mark E. Vogler

Eagle Tribune Sept 23, 2007

     Twenty-two years after attending a majestic funeral in Arlington National Cemetery, Barbara Jones finally had the chance to pay her Uncle BIll the last respects befiitting a famous Lawrencian.

     The gravestone at Arlington honors U.S. Navy Rear Admiral William A. Sullivan as the "Father of Navy Salvage."

     Considered one of the Navy's key men during World War II, Sullivan also is honored on a commerative plaque on Pierr 99 in New York.  The Saturday Evening Post chronicled him as the "commodore of Sunken Ships." 

     But until last Sunday when the city officially dedicated the corner of South Broadway and Salem Street as "Sullivan Square, "  there  was no tangible tribute to the 1912 graduate of Lawrence High School who is lauded as a key contributor to the Navy's succcess in World War II.

     "He was credited with saving thousands of lives", said Jones, 53, a licensed practical nurse who led the charge to win recognition for her uncle.

     "As the highest ranking naval officer from Lawrence during World ar II, you'd think there would have been something for him.  But, he sort of fell between the cracks," Jones said.

    It took a mealtime conversation at a Chinese restaurant on South Broadway more than a year ago to start the wheels turning to get him his due.

   Jones, a 1972 Lawrence High graduate, was among a small group being treated by City Counscilor Marie Gosselin in appreciation for their work on last year's St. Patrick's Day Parade.

     "We were talking about famous Irishmen in Lawrence.  I said one was born right across the street," Jones said, referring to the building that no longer stands at 160 South Broadway.

     Gosselin suggested naming a street corner after Sullivan.  Jones, who by then had compiled extensive research on her uncle, drafterd the proposal that was submitted to the city council.

     It was a metilicous, time-consuming project.  Jones perservered because she was "cheered on" by a small group of family members who joined her at the meetings.

    She said her cousin Terrance Sullivan of Andover, was a particularly, "big help".  Uncle Bill was Terrance Sullivan's childhood hero, she said.

     For Jones, it was her first trip to Arlington National Cemetery that launched her on a persona "journey" to find out about her uncle.

     Arlington is the final resting place for America's biggest war heroes, home of the tomb of the unknown soldier, and the place where the eternal flame burns for President John F. Kennedy, whose life was snuffed out by an assasin's bullet in 1963.

     That sunny fall day in 1985 when her uncle was buried left a lasting impression.  The sight of six white horses pulling a caisson with a flag draped casket impressed her.

     "I had no idea of his importance and I started discovering who he was bcause before that he was just Uncle Bill, " Jones said.  "I started asking questions. ' Who was this man?  How did he get this?"

     The reading room at 29 Greenfield St, which in recent weeks has become a makeshift shrine to the man, proves her uncle was no ordinary man.  His naval sword hangs on one wall, overlooking a table with a folded American flag from his funeral, photographs that span his naval career, commendation letters and books that document his greatness.

     On another table are track medals and trophies from Sullivan's years of athletic success.  Those were the days when young Sullivan was known as "a fleet footed youth and stellar high jumper who covered the 1912 track team of Lawrence High with glory and who went on to bcome one of the greatest track stars in the history of Phillips Academy, Andover and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology," one old news clip recalls.

     On a wall is a framed newspaper story featuring the recovery of the French luxury line the Normandie from the bottom of New York Harbor.  Sullivan directed that operation, which was considered a major engineering feat at that time.

     Pages of government documents obtained by Jones under the federal Freedome of Information Act reveal more commendations, some from President Franklin Roosevent and leaders of foreign countries.

    So why is it that so few Lawrence High School students know about the famous World War II naval officer?

    One old newspaper clip that describes Sullivan as "a modest man who shuns publicity" holds some clues.

    "He wouldn't like to have any fuss made about him in the newspapers,"  the article quoted family members as saying.