A Sullivan Coda

A kind soul from the Denver Public Library’s Western History and Genealogy Department has obliged me in my request to locate any news articles—or, at the very least, an obituary—for our Kelly descendant, Harry A. Sullivan of Denver, Colorado.

While I was out of town this past week, delivered to my home was a treat: not the standard one obituary that the library offers to find for patrons, but two different articles. That means two different photos, as well as two segments of information for which there wasn’t a duplicate in the other newspaper. As you can imagine, when I arrived home late at night, I was elated. Thank you, thank you, to Denver’s public library staff at that specialized department! I owe you much in my quest to honor this man who, without wife or children, likely has no family now left to carry on his memory.

The articles on Harry Sullivan came in the two newspapers serving the Denver area at the time of his death: the Rocky Mountain News and the Denver Post. Both articles were published on Sunday, September 10, 1950, just one day after his passing in the early hours of that morning. Each article included a photograph of Harry—I was so pleased to notice that each was a different photo, allowing me to get a more complete idea of what he looked like. Knowing about the library’s Western History and Genealogy Department and their extensive digital collection, I wouldn’t be surprised if I could locate a copy of the original photographs among the library’s holdings.

Receiving scans of those two newspaper articles means, of course, that I must revisit the posts on Harry Sullivan to add a few more details to the record here. Because the news articles were longer than the usual obituary, I’ll take a few days to wrap up the material. Tomorrow, I’ll cover quotes of the kind compliments given Harry by those governmental officials who knew him. Following that, on Monday, I’ll share—and, oh, am I excited to find these details!—the remarks on Harry’s own family and personal history.

In the meantime, I’ll confess to being the travel-weary homebody who, in opting for sleep over additional late-night writing, has chosen (with apologies) to leave my dear readers dangling.

Tomorrow, as another character once put it, is another day.