VSA Texas recently lost an important member of our family.
Milton Sullivan, age 47, husband to Artworks Director April Sullivan, lost his
life in a car/pedestrian accident in Houston, Texas on August 30, 2015. Today
the staff of VSA Texas remember Milton through these words and stories:
From April Sullivan:
Milton
Sullivan was my best friend. We met in 1992 when I first arrived in Austin to
attend college and we have been inseparable ever since. We married in 2003. As
many husbands know, when your wife joins the staff of a small non-profit, you
become a volunteer. Not because you want to, but because you have to! Milton
was a dedicated volunteer for VSA Texas. As a creative person, he believed
strongly in our mission and was instrumental in many of our programs. As a
writer, he proposed that we have a chapbook making class. So we did! Chris
Strickling led a small group of writers in crafting short stories that were
then printed up into small booklets. As a musician, he was a constant presence
at our Open Mic and his epic performances can be seen on
this YouTube playlist,
courtesy of Malvern Books. As a person
living with a mental illness, he was an advocate for the Stand Up for Mental
Health program and posted flyers all over town and talked up the shows to
everyone he met. Although, he never participated in that program, Milton was
most definitely a comedian. I appreciate the love and acceptance with which my
VSA Texas family embraced Milton.
 |
Milton and April Sullivan dancing at an outdoor concert while in
Albuquerque, NM for the Southwest Conference on Disability, October 2014 |
From Lynn Johnson:
How did I
know Milton? Let me count the many ways. I don’t remember exactly the first
time I met Milton, but April is my office mate and she introduced me. He
had a huge smile and was very, very tall. He loved his sodas and his
cigarettes for a while. I do know he loved his music and loved jamming
with anybody that would jam with him. He knew more bands and songs than I
could ever imagine and knew the words to most of them. Milton would bring
in his guitar to the office and play his latest song, followed by a discourse
on good versus evil. He could switch topics on a dime, and some of them
were highly, highly amusing. He helped us out with our festivals in and
out of town, towing our art supplies around and buying Bongo, their dog, a hamburger
for Bongo’s birthday. He gave me his bologna and cheese sandwich at Art in the
Park in San Antonio as I had forgotten my lunch. He could make me laugh
and leave me speechless with his goofiness. Now he is Rockin’ In The Free
World.
 |
Milton dancing with a boy with Down syndrome at the Art in the Park
at Morgan's Wonderland in San Antonio, May 2011 |
From Nicole Cortichiato:
I'll never
forget the first time I met Milton:
I'm at the
VSA Texas Art Show. I walk out the back door to get some fresh air and the
first thing I see is a giant. This giant has black-framed tinted glasses and
converse tennis shoes on. I watch him play the guitar. He introduces himself as
April's other half. He says, "Are you in the show?"
I tell him,
"Yeah, I have a book in the show called, What Kind of Bunny Ears Do You Have?"
He says, "You wrote
that?"
"Yeah"
"I bought that book for my
mother."
"Cool."
Then we have a discussion
about discrimination and differences. It is an interesting conversation. But
now every conversation with Milton has been interesting, hasn't it?
 |
Milton playing guitar in a chapel at the Southwest Conference on Disability
in Albuquerque, NM, October 2014 |
From Eric Clow:
My favorite
memories of Milton are the times we jammed. I remember he asked if I played
music, and no sooner had I answered yes than he invited me to come play with The Shutaways, Milton's longtime band of
rotating musical characters. So I brought my keyboard and amp to Room 101 of
the AGE Building after hours, and there I met Milton and his drummer, Steve.
Milton handed me a white binder filled with his original songs – with lyrics,
chords, and everything – and we quickly surrounded ourselves with thick walls
of sound and jammed through song after song. I didn't promise him much more
than holding down the root notes of the chords using an organ setting with a
lot of distortion, but he was always very supportive and open to
my ideas.
More than a
lot of people, I think Milton really valued collaboration and the dream of a
thriving community of artists and musicians with disabilities, a dream that I
still hold close to my heart. I remember being so excited after that first jam
session, I even called up my mom to tell her I was in a band. It was true that
I wrote and recorded a lot of my own music and often jammed with close friends
of mine, but this was the first time I had been welcomed into an established
group, and I felt validated as a musician to be invited back – especially
considering how slow and limited my musical abilities were.
I always
enjoyed Milton’s songs and the way he came to each jam session with his binder
of lyrics and chords that could immediately include anyone new to the group. Milton
had a great collection of songs, which can still be heard on
The Shutaways SoundCloud here:
https://soundcloud.com/theshutaways.
In his absence, I have found myself listening to one song more than all the
others, the tune entitled, “Accept It.” Here are my favorite lines from his song:
So I take a deep breath my friend and control of my life
Forget about past things and start to thrive
Just accept it
Accept it and go on
Accept it
Accept it and be strong
To say that
Milton Sullivan was an unsung hero is a little funny because Milton was always
ready to entertain with his guitar and a song. I met Milton many years ago when
he was helping to put up wall shelves in the Access Arts Austin office. I
learned that day the logic of proper wall mountings and also forged the
foundation of what was to become a treasured friendship. Milton was a gentle
man who was willing to help when he could and was honest and direct when he
couldn’t. The VSA Texas art closet was his challenge, as well as our public
storage unit, but he tried to keep us organized and tidy…not an easy job!
For many
years Bongo, his small but mighty guard dog, helped keep Milton and April safe
from any intruders. Even when he couldn’t walk, see, or hear very well – and
had most of his teeth removed – Bongo kept his vigil to protect. Milton loved
that little dog and they made a great team. I have a fond memory of Milton,
towering over me at 6’6”, with an ever-watchful Bongo in his arms. They never
went anywhere without that little fellow, and now Milton and Bongo are together
again, looking for a little mischief and a little adventure.
I will miss
his beautiful smile and his reflections on life, art and music. He was always
working on a song or reworking an older one, and his guitar was never far from
him. Even when the world around him was becoming more chaotic and confusing, he
would often sit outside my office window and find comfort in the chords. He
never met a stranger, and for that reason, there are many people whose lives
have been changed forever in musical and magical ways.
 |
| A favorite family portrait of Milton, April, and Bongo at the beach |
We invite you to share your memories of Milton at his
Memorial Service on Saturday, September 19th, from 3:00 - 5:00 pm, at Austin
Clubhouse, 610 E 45th Street, Austin, TX 78751, inside Hyde Park Christian
Church.
