Obituary: John M. Sullivan

John M. Sullivan, at 77 

John Michael Sullivan of Hull, formerly of Hingham and Easton, Massachusetts and Glen Ellyn, Illinois, died on September 20, 2024. 

It’s hard to lose one of the people who loved you most. If you’re reading this and you knew John, you’re likely feeling that loss today because John loved you. If you met him, you mattered to him and, as we’ve found out over the past several weeks and months of his illness, he mattered to a lot of you too.

Mr. Sullivan was born on June 8, 1947, in Brockton, the third of three children. After meeting Georgette Ader at Stonehill College, they went on to have three children of their own, followed by six grandchildren, all of whom Mr. Sullivan loved dearly. Always on the move, and always up for some friendly competition, he helped his family find the fun. Sunday trips to the bowling alley. Coaching John Barker basketball. Ski weekends at Sunday River. Rowdy rounds of “off-the-wall dice.” Adventures to Costco. Losing (mostly) gracefully to his grandchildren at board games. Taking life’s challenges (mostly) in stride, or at least with a healthy dose of humor. And laughing through it all. At every chance he and Georgette got, they’d gather that brood around their table and raise a toast to being together. 

Mr. Sullivan made new friends everywhere he went, and he loved them all. In the ’80s, he joined Mrs. Sullivan in founding the Crow Point Marching Kazoo Band, gathering their neighbors, donning Groucho Marx disguises, and performing to great acclaim in Hingham’s Fourth of July parade and Christmas in the Square celebration. More recently, he’d send friends daily inspirational quotes and his famous dog selfies to brighten their day.

Mr. Sullivan worked for the coolest brands at their coolest times. He sold Polaroid cameras when the SX-70 launched, Atari games and consoles at the height of their popularity, and Titleist balls and clubs when the Pro V1 was first introduced, and he helped a high-end Japanese golf brand called XXIO enter the U.S. market. While he was certainly passionate about the products, it was the people he talked about most. The time on the road with his reps, the customers turned friends, the opportunity to be a coach and mentor. And his proudest career moments occurred when he co-led a job search support group and talk radio show to help people who were out of work better understand their own value and then find an organization that would appreciate it.

Mr. Sullivan loved music, belting out songs with the car windows rolled down – a pastime he found all the more enjoyable if he had someone to sing with … or at. He loved dancing, which he did often, and with gusto. He loved playing golf, and running marathons and biking in his stronger days, and walking the dog every day. He loved clothes and looking spiffy, yet he was a stain magnet. He loved cars, and maybe especially washing them. He loved boats, although he was terrible at driving them. He loved reading the news, regularly reading aloud the parts he found interesting – which were a lot of parts. And he never met a hot dog that he didn’t like, except maybe for that one time.

Mr. Sullivan loved life. He believed in the future. He really and truly connected with people. He wasn’t perfect, but he was re-mark-able.

Take a page out of Mr. Sullivan’s playbook and compliment someone on a job well done to show that you noticed, and you appreciate their efforts. And make that phone call. Write that letter. Ask how the people around you are doing because we’re all on this crazy ride together and, as Mr. Sullivan taught us, life is so much richer if we celebrate that fact.

Mr. Sullivan’s memory, words of wisdom, and moments of unintentional comedic brilliance will live on in the hearts and minds of his family: his wife, Georgette Ader Sullivan; his children, Mark Sullivan and his wife, Cristina; Elisabeth Sullivan Greaney and her husband, Matthew; and Ned Sullivan and his wife, Abigail; his six grandchildren, Ana, Molly, Nora, Will, Isla, and Fiona; his siblings, Jane Sullivan, and Jeremiah Sullivan and his wife, Kate; and his niece, nephews, and extended family members and friends. 

We’d like to extend our deepest thanks and appreciation to the wonderful medical teams who cared for him over the past few years, with special thanks to the Beth Israel oncology team, Encompass Health Braintree, the Pat Roche Hospice Home, and the EMTs of Hull. We owe you all a debt of gratitude. 

Relatives and friends are respectfully invited to greet the family during the visiting hours on Friday, October 4, from 4-8 p.m. in the Pyne Keohane Funeral Home, 21 Emerald St., Hingham. A celebration of John’s life will be held at a later date. 

In lieu of flowers, please consider making a donation in Mr. Sullivan’s name to the David Einstein Discretionary Fund at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center by visiting www.bidmc.org/giving, or by check. Checks should be made payable to “Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center” with “John Sullivan/David Einstein Discretionary Fund” in the memo line, and mailed to: Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center, Office of Philanthropy, 529 Main Street, 4th Floor, Charlestown, MA 02129.