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Family Group Record
for William Augustine Sullivan -
Unpublished research on September 1,
2013
Produced by: Lynn Hanson Dosch, ,
lynndosch@gmail.com
Husband William Augustine
Sullivan
Born June 17, 1877 Erin, Washington,
Wisconsin
Died March 14, 1957 Milwaukee,
Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA
Father Michael Sullivan (1847-1929)
Mother Catherine Kate Whelan
(1852-1933)
Marriage February 17, 1914 Minneapolis,
Hennepin, Minnesota, USA (Divorced about 1936)
Wife Marie Josephine
Bednorz
Born October 30, 1893 Waverly, Wright,
Minnesota, United States
Died February 24, 1972 Oshkosh,
Winnebago, Wisconsin, USA
Father Andrew (Andreas) Bednorz
(1852-1928)
Mother Frances (Franzciska) Marketon
(1858-1925)
Other Spouse Albert Chappa ( - ) Abt
1944 - Oshkosh, Winnebago, Wisconsin, USA
Children
1 M Lucius Arthur
Sullivan
Born June 11, 1915 Waverly, Wright,
Minnesota, United States
Died March 6, 1990 Sun City, Maricopa,
Arizona, USA
Spouse Viola Agnes Schossow (1914- )
May 3, 1941 - Saint Paul, Ramsey, Minnesota, United States
2 M Edwin Sullivan
Born April 8, 1917 Minneapolis,
Hennepin, Minnesota, USA
Died January 22, 2002 Tampa,
Hillsborough County, Florida, USA
Spouse Winona Ann Hamlin (1920-2002)
April 13, 1942 - Independence, Jackson, Missouri, USA
3 F Mary Catherine
Sullivan (Sister Augustine)
Born February 9, 1919 Le Pas, Manitoba,
Canada
Died April 20, 1999 Fond du Lac County,
Wisconsin, USA
4 F Dorothy Gertrude
"Tiny" Sullivan
Born April 12, 1920 Le Pas, Manitoba,
Canada
Died November 18, 2004 Yuba City,
Sutter, California, United States
Spouse Wes B. Owens (1927-1989) March
12, 1943 - Tucson, Pima, Arizona, United States
Spouse William E. Jensen ( -1981) March
16, 1977
5 F Ann Elizabeth
Whelan Cecilia Sullivan
Born January 20, 1922 Oshkosh,
Winnebago, Wisconsin, USA
Died August 11, 2006 Sister Bay, Door,
Wisconsin, USA
Spouse Kenneth Samuel Beutler
(1920-1978) August 10, 1942
6 F Virginia S.
"Deda" Sullivan
Born June 2, 1923 Oshkosh, Winnebago,
Wisconsin, USA
Died December 27, 2005 Maricopa County,
Arizona, USA
Spouse Thomas H. Glantz ( - ) April 15,
1944 - Tucson, Pima, Arizona, United States
Spouse E. James Simpson ( - ) October
6, 1953
Spouse William J. Monteforte ( - ) July
6, 1959 - Carson City, Carson, Nevada, USA
7 F Sylvia Lorraine
Sullivan
Born July 21, 1924 Oshkosh, Winnebago,
Wisconsin, USA
Died March 23, 2003 Pelham, Shelby,
Alabama, USA
Spouse Robert Bernard III Porter
(1923-1999) December 5, 1944 - Tucson, Pima, Arizona, United States
Spouse Charles Lamb (1922- ) July 8,
1972 - Rochester, Monroe, New York, USA
8 F Bernice Frances
"Bink" Sullivan
Born January 31, 1926 Oshkosh,
Winnebago, Wisconsin, USA
Died July 2013, Jamestown, Tennessee
Spouse Clyde Owen Sutherland
(1919-1998) February 16, 1946 - Salt Lake City, Salt Lake, Utah, USA
9 F Patricia Ethel
Sullivan
Born August 31, 1927 Oshkosh,
Winnebago, Wisconsin, USA
Died August 4, 2013 Appleton,
Outagamie, Wisconsin
Spouse Melvin Carl Hanson (1926-1997)
July 12, 1947 - Wisconsin, USA
10 F Living Sullivan
11 M Living Sullivan
Toots Reflection 1967
Sister M. Augustine CSA
“Let me read with open eyes, the book my days are writing –
and learn.” (Markings, Dag Hammarskjold)
In these few words I hope to bring out the things and events
that I consider determining factors in making me the person I am today. I could
mention many sisters, -- superiors and
others, who by their example, their prayerfulness, their trust in God, their
patience, and their innate goodness have greatly influenced me. In deep and
sincere gratitude I remember them daily in prayer.
I know I was born across from an Indian reservation in
Canada – the oldest of eight girls in a row, preceded by two brothers and
followed by one more sixteen years later, bringing our family to thirteen, all
of whom are living except my father.
But – what is my life all about? What has made it what it is? What has made me
act and react as I have done and continue to do? I could write a book. I won’t.
Being one of the oldest of a large family has taught me
early in life to share not only material things, but also time, joys, and
sorrows. It made me gregarious – I despise having to be along – and it taught
me to give in to others even if I were the “big” sister. It made me sensitive
to the needs and wants of others.
With a mother whose mind was always active and creative, I
was never at a loss for something constructive or instructive to do, summer or
winter. She liked to make surprises for people and showed us the pleasure to be
derived from the thoughtfulness of doing so. She was a meticulous housekeeper
and was determined that her girls would take after her.
My father, not a musician himself, always appreciated fine
music. He was extremely tidy about himself and was always polishing something,
be it a window pane, a watch chain, or a pair of shoes. I have adopted traits
from both parents and have been called by some an “old maid.” Some people I
have lived with have solidified some of these tendencies in me.
The depression hit our house during my high school years. A
large family doesn’t have exactly an easy time when money for food and clothing
is scarce. Mom was an accomplished seamstress and earned a few extra dollars at
that, besides making clothes for all of us. Dad, who was a lumber buyer,
grader, and salesman, was forced at last to be a WPA foreman. I worked for one
dollar a week cleaning, ironing and doing dishes for a young woman who was a
hypochondriac. With that, plus babysitting at thirty-five cents a night, I paid
for all my high school expenses. This meant I had to choose my recreations
wisely; many times it meant coming into a basketball game after the half or
just walking with friends who were in the same straits. I found out the hard
way the value of money.
I spent twelve years being educated by our sisters. In all
that time, I never once was conspicuous of anyone’s verbally “selling” me
religious life. Yet, when I look back, there were two nuns who impressed me
more than the others, though I loved and respected all of them. They have
influenced many of my attitudes toward life and the values I set for myself.
Sister Gervase was my teacher for five years. No, I didn’t continually fail the
grade; but she was “smart enough” to go with us from 2nd through 6th.
I remember her as an excellent, enthusiastic teacher; one who taught us art
appreciation and color theory; a warm, human person, and a perfect lady
at all times. She left a fine imprint on me at an early age. I can see her in
the classroom yet.
It was when I was a senior the blow fell—Mom and Dad having
had a particularly frustrating and hard time trying to make short ends meet,
became impatient and cross with each other and in April of that year,
separated, making our family a “broken family”. This was the greatest hurt of
my life. I had just turned seventeen and my youngest brother was only six
months old. The two oldest were out trying to make a “go” of it on their own.
Besides the pain I felt for a family growing up without a father in the house,
I was particularly saddened because I was exceptionally fond of my father. We
had always been buddies, and though deep down I planned on entering the convent
shortly, I hated to see him so alone, so without the family.
It was during these dark days as a senior that Sister
Antoine became my sounding board. I had to talk to someone – and she listened
sympathetically, patiently and often. She never blamed, probed, or scolded –
just listened. She had a real feeling for people. I was aware that she enjoyed
teaching teenagers. She never lowered herself to their level. She was the first
person to whom I mentioned my desire to enter the convent, but that was all the
further it went—merely mentioned. She didn't go into a sales pitch. When my
father died in March of 1957, I thought, “if only I could talk to someone who
knew him—“. she would have been the one. I was in Victoria; she in Hays—but
died there in February almost before I even knew she was ill. I found out by
accident on Friday; she died on Saturday morning. That left me with no one who
would understand my sorrow on the loss of my father.
It seems that I had never had the slightest thought of ever
being anything but a Sister of St. Agnes. It was my one and only choice, a
dream which I barely mentioned to anyone even by insinuation. I didn’t feel I
had to share something that was so exclusively mine. It would have taken
something away from it I am sure.
An unusual message came to me in a letter from my Aunt
Frances during the first year after my profession. She wrote to me quite
regularly, but this letter was different. She related that when she took me to
the little church in LaPas, Manitoba, to be baptized, Father Gee, the pastor,
asked where my godfather was. My aunt explained that the family was relatively
new in the area and they didn’t feel they knew anyone well enough to make such
a request. He asked, “What’s the matter with me?”and proceeded with the
baptism. After having signed his name as godfather, he said, “Who knows, some
day she may be a nun.” My aunt had deliberately kept this information from me
for fear that it would influence my making a free decision.
I have not regretted my choice for one minute of the last
thirty-one years. Dag Hammerskjold says, “We cannot afford to forget any
experience, not even the most painful.” I have countless precious memories and
only enough of the not-so-pleasant to make the others even brighter. I have
wonderful friends ranging in age from my “old” friend, Sister Bertha, to some
who have been professed only a couple of years. I like all people, young, old,
and those in between. The work they do has never been a deciding factor in my
choice of them as a friend. I have known great simple souls like Sister
Marietta, and I have the utmost respect for those who led the way when the
community was young—those pioneers of whom Sister Vera writes so beautifully
with “all devotedness”.
In spite of the fact that I like people I have often been
accused of being quite snobbish by people who don’t know me. The truth of the
matter is, I am afraid of people I don’t know. This is a trait picked up from
my Dad. He was always ill at ease among strangers. One sister told me she
actually prayed that she would never have to live with me. She finally
did, and we laughed together when she told me this after three years. She is
older than I! I have never deliberately tried to frighten people. If they could
know how I was struggling inside, they would feel sorry for me instead.
The Community has always been extremely good to me. I pray
that I will ever be grateful for its having included me among its numbers. I am
a charter member of Marian College; I feel that I deserve a “degree” from the
Leo House by reason of six summers spent there. I have earned my business
education credits at Duquesne University and have had the privilege of
receiving a Master’s degree from Creighton. Even after all this, I have had the
opportunity to earn extra credits in English and Journalism. The silver jubilee
workshop at Creighton will always be appreciated as a time of special grace for
me. I have often looked back on it with a great deal of joy and satisfaction.
Some of my most challenging summers, though, have been spent
at our hospitals. I have worked in the offices of all four – St Anthony and St.
Agnes each twice. Here I learned HUMILITY if it was ever to be learned – the
humility that comes from others having faith in you. To this day, I can’t
understand how the administrator, the accountant, the office manager, and the
seven-year, all-round worker Agnes could have all left St. Anthony for a
month leaving all financial matters in my hands from the opening of the
safe and the remittance control in the morning to paying bills, making out
payrolls, handling mail and Blue Cross checks, running the bookkeeping machine,
balancing cash and making daily deposits, and –writing a $12,000 check to the
government. I wondered: “Who am I to be trusted with all this; and how can I
write checks like this with someone else’s money?” I got a terrific headache
that day—but the hospital remained solvent.
The whole thing, however, did make me think. I had done the
best I could in a field quite foreign to me. I had never been in a hospital
office before. In a human situation it is cheating not to be – at every
moment – one’s best. How much more so in a position where others have faith
in you!
As like everyone else, there is the uncertainty of the
future before me. What God in His goodness has in store for me only He knows. I
must take each day as it comes, each morning holding out the chalice of my
being to Him. I must hold it out empty, -- empty of self and self-interests,
for the past must only be reflected in its polish, its shape, its capacity for
love. I pray that I may continually grow firmer, simpler, quieter,
warmer—realizing it is the last steps which decide the value of all the things
that went before.
For all that has been – Thanks!
For all that still shall be – Yes!
July 8, 1967
We all love you Aunt Toots. Your warmth and encouragement, caring and laughter, taught us to be like you. More than you'll ever know, we carry these lessons in our heart. You taught us well.