Thomas Frederick Sullivan. Born in Covington, KY, died after an arduous battle with pneumonia on Jan. 29, 2002 at the age of 71. He grew up in Cleves, OH and Evanston/Glenview, IL and did his undergraduate work at Notre Dame 1952, received his Ph.D. in Chemistry at Northwestern University 1956, received a postdoctorate at the University of Illinois Urbana 1958 and completed a PMD Business Administration at Harvard University 1972. He and his bride, Marilynn, were married on Sept. 13, 1961 and drove to Boston the morning after the wedding to start their new lives and a new job. He eventually became V.P. and Director, Research Products of a high tech company founded in Boston in 1956 New England Nuclear – which produced radioactive and non-radioactive chemicals for life science research, radioactive and pharmaceuticals and clinical diagnostic kits. The company became an acknowledged world leader in its field and was acquired by DuPont in 1981. Tom also was diagnosed about that time at the age of 51 with a hereditary neuro-muscular disease which made walking or any muscular activities increasingly difficult. After taking an early retirement from his executive position to move to Santa Barbara, CA, he and his wife decided to give back to the community what they had been so fortunate to receive in life. He served on the boards of CALM, UCSB Music Affiliates, the American Irish Historical Society and the Santa Barbara Symphony. He and his wife have proudly sponsored the May Symphony concert for many years and enjoyed their relationships with such wonderfully talented and caring people. Tom was a golf nut and started caddying at a very young age. He loved telling the story about how he would caddy 36 holes or more in a day for the grand sum of 50 (no tipping allowed in those days), but the important part was that he and the other young caddies got to play a round or two for free after the course closed. He was a man who hated computers and was proud of the fact that he never touched one and instead, jokingly called himself “a yellow-pad man trapped in a technical age.” He was the first male generation in his family to say “I love you” out loud to his father and he did so at the end of every conversation with him. He read voraciously and always had the latest best-seller or a news magazine or The Wall Street Journal in his hand. He had a very analytical mind and read tax journals for fun and he enjoyed jousting with insurance companies and goverment agencies over the rules. He was a proud American and yet never forgot his Irish heritage. His favorite St. Patrick’s Day quip was that “everyone was Irish or wishes they were.” He had a phenomenal memory and – to the consternation of the other players – would remember every card that had been played in a game of cards, and yet was absent-minded enough that he would forget where he put the deck. He drove a small sports car which he loved, in spite of the fact that his handicap made it difficult to get in and out of it. He did his own stock market investing, charting and research and always had the small television set in his office tuned to the stock market channel. He was a member of the “Attitude Adjustment Club” whose main purpose was to have martinis and lunch once a month at the Biltmore with two of his favorite cronies and solve all the problems of the world. He enjoyed having breakfast at the Mesa Cafe six mornings a week at the same table with a group of friends that always grew a little bigger, and he knew every waitress, waiter and busboy by name and most of their stories. When his handicap made his world a little smaller, he made it a little bigger by using the telephone constantly to keep in touch with friends and family. He did his own research on his disease and kept up with all the latest advances and with his friends and contacts in the bio-chemical world. He loved arriving early at the Symphony so that he could stand outside the theater and visit with friends before going in, even though standing was painful for him. He will be remembered for many things, but most of all, his quick Irish wit and million-dollar smile. No matter how sick he was – especially at the end – he always had a big smile for anyone who came near him. He will be dearly missed by his many, many friends and family and most of all, by his friend and wife of 40 years, Marilynn. The world won’t be nearly as much fun without him. No memorial services are planned. His life and the way he lived it are his memorial. A Remembrance Bash for friends and family to be announced later. In lieu of flowers, if you would like to remember Tom, please make a donation to the S.B. Symphony, 1900 State St., Suite G, Santa Barbara, CA 93101 or Scholarship Foundation of Santa Barbara, P.O. Box 3620, Santa Barbara, CA 93130. He’d like that.
