just two bedrooms upstairs, oil burning furnace, good water supply brought in by electric pump, and a kitchen furnished with electric stove and refrigerator. The view from the house in almost every direction is one of sheer forest. For the hunter and the fisherman it is quite an attraction during the right seasons.
The roads are kept open during the winter by snow plough for the sake of the high school students who go down every day to Sharbot Lake.
Plevna is a mission parish, which means that the cheque for stipend and travel is sent out at the end of each month from the Synod Office, and that part of it that the congregation supplies is sent in to us. The stipend is definitely not one to attract a person from the United States. The stipend is $200.00 a month and the travel allowance $50.00 a month ($3,000.00 a year, with the use of the house).
Besides Plevna there are two other spots in the Mission—one on a bay on the very beautiful Palmerston Lake, called Ompah—and the other at a little settlement that is largely Roman Catholic, called Ardoch.
What really constitutes a challenge to us in this area, is that there is no priest resident in an area of 300 to 400 square miles other than ours. An R.C. priest comes in to say Mass from a distance of about twenty miles or more, and the United Church is under the care to two deaconesses.
On November 14, 1956 Tim was appointed to be a Lay Reader and Catechist in the Mission of North Frontenac, with permission to perform baptisms and burials. He was admitted into the Holy Order of Deacons by the Bishop of Ontario on December 21, 1956 and admitted into Holy Order of Priesthood by the Bishop on Ascension Day, May 30, 1957. Tim’s ordination as a priest was held in a small brick Anglican church in Athens, a church known as Christ’s church, nestled on a hill, surrounded by shade trees.
Therefore, Father, through Jesus Christ your Son, give your Holy Spirit to Timothy Eugene John Sullivan; fill him with grace and power, and make him a priest in your Church.
Book of Common Prayer
In serving the Anglican Mission of North Frontenac, Tim was responsible for All Saints Church in Ompah, Holy Trinity Church in Plevna, and St. John’s Church in Ardoch.
It should be noted that during their first winter in Plevna, Tim, Reinette, and Anna experienced temperatures as low as 50° below.
Tim began to endear himself to the people by his eager willingness to be of help to them both spiritually and materially. (At one point his Bishop extracted a promise from Tim to the effect that he would not go head over heels in his generosity to his parishioners!) His human touch came through in the following poem he wrote to the ladies of the W.A.
“Ode to the ‘W.A.’ on the Festival of St. George.”
God be with you as you go
Through the mountain’s lingering snow
To the Belleville land below
Cheerfully along your way
As you chatter and as you pray,
Dear ladies of our own village “W.A.”
Remember though the battle long
And weary sometime the road,
St. George the Dragon slew of wrong
As he bore the cross’s load.
Sharing in the world’s strife and sin and pain
That he, with Christ, might put it right again;
Directed toward paths of joy and peace
Where faith in hope of love may still increase
Until you sing, each one, the victor’s song
“For God and country” as you march along!
The Bishop began to gain an understanding of Tim’s penchant for writing long and meandering cards and letters as evidenced from this quote from the Bishop’s letter:
I must certainly open up a file in my office marked “Letters from Ompah.” I thought I had a fairly juicy bit of correspondence when I read only the outside pages of your card. I noticed that page two didn’t run freely onto the last page, but I did not notice that the last page was number “7.” It was my wife who pointed out to me that we had the whole inside of the card covered with news.
And again the Bishop wrote:
You are excelling yourself in your epistles. I think you must be conscious of the fact that you are, because I notice that you jump from page ‘5’ to page ‘8’, and your eighth page is numbered ‘10.’ But I can assure you that even if you had written ten pages instead of a measly eight, I should have enjoyed every one of them.
And once again he wrote:
I read your last letter of a mere 12 page length at one sitting with the aid of my new reading glasses and a magnifying glass. It is not that I need the magnifying glass to discover the interest and excitement of your work; that stands out in big letters on every page. I had to have the magnifying glass for all your second thoughts that are sprinkled like salt and pepper over the whole page.
Letters from the Bishop to Tim contain many words of appreciation and commendation for Tim’s hard work in ministering to the people. It is evident that gains were made in attendance and in confirmations and baptisms.
Tim resigned as Incumbent of North Frontenac as of October 15, 1958. He was granted a six month leave of absence, after which he was to be considered for service in another parish within the Diocese.
Tim and Reinette spent time in Grass Valley. During that time Tim celebrated Holy Communion in several Episcopal churches in the area.
We do not presume to come to this thy Table, O merciful Lord, trusting in our own righteousness, but in thy manifold and great mercies. We are not worthy so much as to gather up the crumbs under thy Table. But thou art the same Lord whose property is always to have mercy. Grant us therefore, gracious Lord, so to eat the flesh of thy dear Son Jesus Christ, and to drink his blood, that we may evermore dwell in him, and he in as. Amen.
Book of Common Prayer
Ministry in Wyoming (1959-60)
Late in 1958 Tim began to correspond with The Right Reverend J. Wilson Hunter, Bishop of The Missionary District of Wyoming about the possibility of returning to the United States and serving in the Wyoming area. Bishop Hunter described an opportunity in Ethete (pronounced etheetee) as follows:
St. Michael’s Mission, Ethete, is a work among the Arapahoe Indians. Up until last June we had a day school (grades 1-8), but the government has built a new school three miles from Ethete and our school has closed. We are now in the process of determining what program we should carry on at Ethete: (a) a small home for Arapahoe children from broken homes?, (b) a kindergarten for the Arapahoe children?, (c) an enlarged recreational program? Our equipment consists of a beautiful log chapel and nine buildings (rectory, gym, teachers’ homes, guest house, farmers’ houses, etc.).
We have a fine farmer and his family who run the farm, a fine couple who oversee the buildings and now have a young lay couple who are interested in coming to do social service work under guidance of the Vicar of St. Michael’s. I would see your job as one to hold services, head up a church school which needs much strong teaching, and to be a great Pastor. Indians need unceasing pastoral calling. We claim about 350 communicants, although many have been inactive too long.
Salary is $4,800 plus pension and 7¢ a mile for travel plus rectory and utilities. Ethete is 14 miles from Lander (population 3,500) on a good road. Lander has good schools, doctors, hospital, stores, etc.
Bishop Hunter formally offered the position to Tim in mid-January, 1959 and Tim gladly accepted. Tim, Reinette, and Anna arrived in Ethete in early February where Tim plunged into the work with a ready willingness to be a priest and pastor to the Indians. In addition to the usual pastoral ministry, responsibilities included the overseeing of the property (everything from water lines and septic tanks to building maintenance) and providing direction to staff members, working with committees, and dealing with personal problems among the Indians, including the excessive use of alcohol by some of them.
Tim, who long had a reputation for fast driving, continued this pattern in Wyoming. A letter from the Archdeacon stated it in this way:
I learned something the other day in Lander which I felt I should pass on to you. Roger Budrow, Ernie Newton and I were having coffee the other day when I was in Lander, and the State Highway Patrolman joined us in the booth.
He mentioned to me that “one of my colleagues” was having an eye kept on him not only by the State Patrol, but also by the Lander City Police. The conversation left little to the imagination—it was you that he was talking about with regard to speeding both on the highway and in town.
As long as they seem to be aware of this situation, I thought that I would mention it to you and leave it up to your good judgment as to what to do about that, and also to suggest that you check to see what the status of your California license plates happens to be according to the reciprocal agreements between the two states concerned.
I am sure that a fine would not affect you financially, but the adverse publicity which might result could do you and the Church a good deal of harm, so I am relaying to you what I heard…period.
During the period Tim and Reinette lived in Wyoming, they made a trip to California. On the return trip they were involved in a serious auto accident that resulted in hospitalization for Reinette and Anna for a few days. The other driver was cited for the sad accident in which his small daughter was killed.
Apparently, early in 1960 some conflicts began to develop between Tim and members of the staff, resulting in an expression of concern by the Bishop. Tim met with the Bishop in February, and in a subsequent letter to another party Tim indicated that “…what he [the Bishop] had to say was as surprising as it was unexpected.” The situation seemed to improve somewhat, but on May 1 Tim submitted his written resignation. The Bishop accepted the resignation effective June 30, 1960. In his letter the Bishop stated ‘This has been a difficult decision to make, as I am appreciative of many fine things you have done since coming to Wyoming…but in view of you yourself having written out your resignation, I am sure you must have concluded that you could have a more effective ministry elsewhere.”
Writing again in July, the Bishop expressed his feelings thusly: “Frankly, you are a person who is very difficult to understand. One moment I think I understand you and then in the very next time I hear from you or talk with yo
Part I: Autobiography
(Note: Part I was written by Tim on February 20, 1973. Footnotes have been added from information obtained from various letters and other documents.)
My father, Timothy Eugene Sullivan was born of Irish Catholic immigrant parents in San Jose, California in 1866[1]. His brothers were Frank (“The Professor”) Daniel, John, and Patrick. He had one sister, Aunt Mary, who never married.[2]
My mother was Anna Sophia, born Olson[3] in Sweden[4]. Her mother’s name was Johanna[5] and her sisters were Emma (Dahllöf), Maria, Gerda (Elberg), Ester, and Helena. She had one brother, Nils Olson who begat three sons by the names of Ake, Allan, and Olof. My mother immigrated to the United States in the 19th century with another sister, Ada. My mother’s mother was widowed at early age and thus her family was very poor, living in the small railroad town of Herrljunga in the province of Västergutland, about an hour’s train ride from the seaport city of Göteborg (Gothenburg). My mother lived with relatives in Chicago named Swanson who were related to her on her father’s side of the family. They had two American-born children, Oscar A. Swanson and Alice Swanson (who married very late in life.) Oscar Swanson became an insurance agent and had one daughter, Carolyn, an unmarried (to date) school teacher. My mother’s sister Ada returned to Sweden where she spent the remainder of her life in a mental hospital—no doubt the result of the tension of living in a strange, foreign country (USA).
My mother became a nurse in Chicago[6] and later in life migrated to the far west, following her profession briefly in Goldfield, Nevada and San Francisco. It was in the last named city that she met my father who was a patient at the French Hospital where she was a nurse.
My mother became the private nurse of my father and finally he asked her to marry him. There was, apparently, a dispute over religion, my mother being of Swedish Lutheran background and my father of Irish Catholic background.
My parents were married in the rectory by a Catholic priest on February 29, 1916 in Bakersfield, California.[7] I was born on March 31, 1917[8]—my mother being 44 years old at the time. One of my father’s friends sent him a telegram saying “Congratulations Tim, I would have bet 100 to 1 against you having a child so late in life.” It was my father’s desire that I should be named after him, but my mother insisted on the name John, so I was
baptized in St. Francis Catholic Church, Bakersfield as Timothy Eugene John Sullivan—my cousin Esther Sullivan (Buty) and her fiancé William (Bill) Cannon being the God-parents.[9]
Then the Priest shall take the Child into his hands, and shall say to the Godfathers and Godmothers, Name this Child. And then naming it after them he shall dip it in the water discreetly and warily saying, Timothy Eugene John Sullivan, I baptize thee In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
Publick Baptism of Infants
Book of Common Prayer, 1549
As an only child of middle-aged parents I was spoiled quite badly. There was a pretty little girl who lived across the street from us. Her name was Jessie Lee Hubbard and my mother would arrange for her to come over and visit at my slightest desire to have her do so.
My mother had the habit of going around to many different churches and religious meetings and she took me with her. One evening there was an elderly man who got up and testified: “I love everybody.” I thought he must be a very wonderful person to love everyone.
As I grew up, I made many friends of the boys in the neighborhood. There was John Swett who went to the Episcopal Church and who had a younger sister, Ruth. John played first base on the Franklin School baseball team on which I was only a substitute. Then there were the Stroud brothers, Allan and Bill (who died at 19). Other friends were John (Slink) Muir who had a younger sister Barbara (Snook) and Sargent Eissler and Carl Kamline, another only child whose Lutheran father operated a curtain store. Then there was George Nicholas Rudolph Voll who was a superb athlete and whose widowed mother ran the downtown Euclid Hotel. Other youthful friends were Harvey Nesbit, Terry Fugard (The Master), Tony, and Larry, Jack and Patrick O’Brien, all Irish-American Catholics.
My mother never disciplined me, so far as I can remember, but my father (whom I always called “Daddy”) raised the hairbrush as if to paddle me once and thereafter I always feared and respected him more.
Our kindergarten teacher at Franklin School was Miss Annette Pritzkav and our first grade teacher was Mrs. Laota Snow. I found it very difficult to learn to read and was kept after school with two other slow learners. My daddy helped me with my reading and I gained in confidence by having him teach me.
My friend Carl (Lefty) Kamline and I used to make model toy aeroplanes out of the shavings of his father’s curtain store. One day Carl and I made two small fires in our garage with some of the shavings left over from making model aeroplanes. About that time my mother came out to the garage and we, feeling guilty at having our fire-making discovered, turned our backs to the fire. However, I got too close and my shirt caught fire. My mother snatched the burning shirt from my back and put out the fire, but I was rather badly burned and our family physician, Dr. N.N. Brown, tended my burns and it was very painful when he took the bandages off my back. As a result of this accident I have been rather afraid of matches and fires.
(Note: At the age of eight, Tim went on a trip to Sweden with his mother. Following are messages on postcards written to his father in Bakersfield:)
Dear Daddy,
I received the $five dollars you sent me. Thank you for the $five dollars. I have some wooden shoes. I just got them this morning. I hope you are well.
Love from Tim, July 4th 1925.
Dear Daddy,
We are in Grenna now. But we are going back to Jönkköping today. We rode to an island in a motorboat.
Love from Tim, July 17th, 1925
Dear Daddy,
I and Mama have been in 16 Swedish cities. The picture is of falls that supply waterpower for Sweden.
Love from Tim, August 5th.
dm St Live Nude 0 Bikini
et w St Live Nude z St Live Nude St Live Nude St Live Nude