Steven K. Sullivan

Here I have collected pictures, many of which probably were originally collected by my parents and placed in my baby book.  One night as my first wife was waiting for the second coming of Christ,  an event which she felt was going to happen at any moment, in order to purify the world she burnt my baby book along with many other things.  Later, my mother, Elsie, sent me some similar photos which my second wife, Yan, put into a picture book.  I have digitized these photos and I now place them here.

++Steve Sullivan, February 26, 2012

And I've added a few photos to the page that were scanned directly from negatives I found ...

  ++ Dave Sullivan, March 2015

My father drew the stork and B17 pictures for my birth announcement.  At the time of my birth Wes was on leave from the Army Air Core.  While waiting for my birth the requirement for leaving the Air core changed and Wes was able to return to civilian life without further flying missions.  Yan had me remove the date of my birth and my middle name hoping that will protect my identity.

The back of this photo says:  4 weeks old.  First visit to Portland.  The sun was so bright Steve wouldn't open his eyes.

Steve and Elsie at Silver Creek Falls.  August, 1945.

In this picture of my grandparents, Ruth and Austin B. Brownell, they may be dressed in their working clothes.  Ruth managed a gift shop which also sold appliances.  Austin's rumpled shirt seems to have holes in the sleeve and might be what he wore running an electrical contracting firm.  This photo was taken in Grants Pass, Oregon around August, 1945 when I was about 12 weeks old.

Inside this card a handwritten note said:  "Here is our baby at 5 mos -- he is quite a lad.  Steve has little hair as yet.  Fair skin and real blue (twinkling) eyes."  It is possible that this was written by my grandma Orma, and not my parents.

In every baby book there are too many pictures of babies.  Here I am in a baby buggy at 12 weeks.

Elsie and Wes Sullivan with Steve.  As the first child I "enjoyed" a studio photo and other forms of special attention.

An interesting aspect of picture is the baby washing device.  This photo would have been taken in the 12th street house in Salem.  Although I do not remember this house, my father occasionally talked about it as a mistake.  When it rained, the house was filled with bowls to catch leaks.

This photo was labeled Silver Creek Falls.  Interesting drinking fountain.

On the back of this picture was my name.  It seems likely that this picture was taken at about the time construction first started on the Lincoln Beach cabin.   I would have been about 1.5.

 Wes with Steve and Nancy, apparently taken at about the same time as the picture to the left since we seem to be dressed the same.

The family spent a lot of time at the beach during Steve's early years.

This is a nice picture of Nancy.  What a strange contraption are we riding in?

Steve being held by his grandmother, Orma.

Lincoln Beach.

Nancy enters the photos.  I look like like I have no idea what I am doing holding my sister.

Steve, Nancy, and yet another kid on the couch in the corner of the Sullivan beach cabin.

"Steve Sullivan and Mother, Reedsport"

Nancy is getting old enough to be in a swing.  The swing and slide set (on right) may have been built by my grandfather, John.  In the picture on the right my grandfather, Austin, is pushing the swing.  These pictures would have been at the 12th street house but I think the swing may have made it to Manbrin Gardens.

Steve, Nancy and parents in Grants Pass park.

I recall this chair from the Beach Cabin.

The budding Sullivan family: Wes, Steve, Elsie and Nancy.

I think my parents thought it was cute when we wore these hats but my recollection was of being a clown.  

Steve before disposable diapers.

This is one of a few photos that were taken of me for the Steve and Nancy Santa Claus series of Christmas stories that my father made.

Here we see the arrival of Dave.  This photo is in the Wayne Drive house in Mambrin Gardens.  There is an issue of Life on the living room table.  I am dressed as in the previous (above) picture.

The Statesman, December, 1950

Steve on driftwood, June 1975

Synopsis: Having toured San­ta's toyshops, Steve and Nancy are ready to take over Santa's job while the old man takes a rest.

* * *

CHAPTER IX

On the way back to Santa's house, Steve and Nancy pass­ed through the train shops where hundreds of tiny engineers were making trains.

As a matter of fact, they rode through the train shop on a toy train, but all the time Santa was hurrying them along because it was getting late and he was anx­ious to get home and get to sleep.

They would have gotten to Santa's house a lot sooner if they hadn't gone through the electric appliance shop.

There, hundreds more little dwarfs were testing out little elec­tric stoves, electric mixers, electric irons and all sorts of gadgets.  The whole ceiling of the cottage was decorated with strings of Christmas tree lights.

Baking Bran Muffins

The dwarfs that were testing the electric stoves had just made some bran muffins. They were being made in thimbles, and a dozen of them wouldn't any more than fill your hand.

Steve and Nancy each ate a dozen. Santa ate three dozen and said they couldn't eat any more be­ cause they might spoil their sup­per.

When they got back to Santa's big living room, Santa said, "Sit down for a moment, and we'll go over the work you have to do be­ fore we take a look at the office."

"When any of the departments have any questions they want an­swered or any problems come up, they 'phone me at the office. It will be up to you to give the pro­per answers and keep things going while I'm asleep. If you need any­ one to run errands for you, there are messengers waiting to do your bidding."

Sounds Like a Lot of Work

"My, this sounds like a lot to, look after," Steve said.

"I don't find it so hard," Santa replied. "And if for any reason you should want to talk to all the departments at once there is a loudspeaker system. I guess I can show you better in the office so come in there with me."

The office was just two rooms away. First came the waiting room, where a little dwarf sat at a desk, and took messages and asked people what they wanted to see Santa Claus about.

The next room was the office and the children could see right away that it was a very impornant place. It had a thick green rug on-the floor and several very fine looking leather - covered chairs.

At the far end of the room was a huge desk with a shiny glass top. At one side of the desk were seven rows of tiny buttons, each with a little light beside it that lit up when the button was pushed.

At the back of the desk was a microphone, which Santa said was attached to the loudspeaker system which everyone could hear.

In front of the microphone was a fountain pen set with five fountain pens, each with a different color ink in it. At the right hand side of the desk, standing on the floor, was a Christmas tree.

Steve and Nancy looked at it, and then looked again, for it was decorated with telephones, just covered with telephones. "That is the telephone tree," Santa said.

"It has telephones connected to every department."

"Now, I guess you know every­ thing you need to know to be able to run things here," Santa said, yawning. "I guess I'll turn in and get some sleep. Nancy, you can stay- here or go over to the book department, whichever you wish."

After saying that, Santa gave each of the two children a kiss on top of the head and left them alone.

"The first thing I'm going to do is to get a big electric train with enough track to run all around the office," Steve said, "and I'm going to get attachments to dump coal, load and unload milk cans, and an electric crane."

"And I'm going to get a doll house with all sorts of furniture, and a real electric range," Nancy chimed in.

Over they raced to the tele­phone. "Hello, train department?" Steve asked. "Send me over the best train you have. And on the way, pickup a fine doll house for Nancy." 

"Boy, won't we have fun," he said as he put the telephone back on the tree.

(Tomorrow: Trains That Chirp.)