City's Politics Remain All in the Family

In 1980, former Secretary of State Cyrus R. Vance was scheduled to give the keynote address at Harvard's Commencement. And Glenn S. Koocher '71, then a member of the Cambridge school committee, was struggling to find a friend a ticket for the ceremony.

Koocher finally found a ticket, but then he made the mistake of telling popular city councillor and titan of political patronage Walter J. Sullivan about his troubles.

"He scolded me," Koocher recalled recently, "and pulled out a pile of tickets and said "You go to the printer and he gives you all you want."

For 59 years, Walter Sullivan, who retired from the city council in 1994, and the rest of his family have been serving the people of Cambridge in ways both large and small.

In 1936, Michael Andrew Sullivan, also known as "Mickey the Dude," was elected to the city council. When he died in 1949, son Edward J. Sullivan, took over.

In 1960, Sullivan, by then city clerk, gave way on the city council to his brother Walter. And when Walter retired in 1994 after 34 years on the council and six as mayor, his son, Michael Anthony Sullivan, took a seat.

The Sullivans, in fact, are so prominent--and so well-loved--in Cambridge politics that in 1986 the chamber where the city council meets was renamed in their honor. Today, portraits of Mickey the Dude, Ed and Walter Sullivan hang above the rostrum in the Sullivan chamber.

"The Sullivans are the genuine article," says James J. Rafferty, a former school committee member who has worked on every Sullivan campaign since 1975. "They cared about people and still do, despite their achievements."

The Sullivans are a different kind of Massachusetts political family. There's no family money, no Hyannis estate, no hard drinkers, no Harvard degrees and no long, sordid history of scandal.

"They don't take a drink and they don't take another man's money," gushes Martin C. Foster, a Cambridge attorney and the former chair of the Cambridge Democratic party.

In some ways, the Sullivans have been the most honest of brokers. None of them has ever been accused of using public office for personal or financial gain.

"When people think of the Sulli- van family, they think of public service," says Joseph E. Connarton, who served the city in various positions, including as city clerk, from 1968-1992.

"They are in government solely to serve the people," Connarton says. "They give it 100 percent, even though it costs them personally and professionally."

In fact, Walter, perhaps the family's most eminent member, still shares a modest house on Putnam Street with two other families. His son, Michael, still lives at home. The house's not too far from where he, Ed and seven brothers and sisters grew up on Surrey St.

"Nobody will ever accuse a Sullivan of forgetting his roots, forgetting his constituents, or getting rich on politics," says Koocher, who served on the city's school committee from 1974-1986.

"No one can ever question their integrity," Connarton says.

'The Dude'

The political juggernaut did not start auspiciously. Before he was 11 years old, Michael Andrew Sullivan had lost both his parents.

His mother died of an illness. His father was killed in an accident. A brother also died, drowning in the Charles River.

His aunt, a widow with six kids of her own, took young Mickey and his three siblings in. She supported them by running a boarding house at the corner of Plympton and Mt. Auburn Street, the location of the new Harvard-Radcliffe Hillel.

Sullivan's formal education ended in the fifth grade, and he got his first job at age 12 driving a six-horse team. In his early teens, Harvard students hung his nickname on him. Undergraduates dressed Mickey up in a tuxedo, and called him "the Dude." It stuck.

Sullivan worked hard, and by the time he was elected to the city council, he had built his own small trucking business.

On the council, he was natural, except for one thing. He suffered from asthma, and often had to use an inhaler before getting up in front of the council.

Despite his lack of a formal education, Mickey "could debate anyone on the council floor, no matter who he was," his son Edward says.

"The Dude" had a devious sense of humor. In 1948, when the councillors were struggling to elect a mayor, Sullivan created a moment of levity by placing an egg in fellow councillor Hyman Pill's pocket, hoping that it would break when Pill sat down. The egg story made the pages of Life magazine.

Mickey would also routinely joke about paving over Harvard Yard and melting down the John Harvard statue for the World War II effort.

It was during Sullivan's first days of service, during the Great Depression, that Mickey began practicing the brand of patronage politics that would become a family hallmark.

In the Depression, people used to line up outside the Sullivan house to seek city jobs from his father, Edward Sullivan recalls.

Fred R. Cruickshank, a longtime friend of the Sullivan family, says his mother used to tell him a story about a lady who had met "Mickey the Dude" in city hall outside the welfare office.

Mickey did not know the woman, but when she told him that the welfare man wasn't doing anything for her, the city councillor said he'd take care of it. Sullivan then "laid the welfare man out in lather," according to Cruickshank.

Cruickshank also says the family frequently took in people with no place to sleep for the night. "There was always someone living in their house," he says.

Connarton also says Mickey used to walk the corridors of City Hospital (now the Cambridge Hospital) and ask patients if they were receiving good care. If they weren't, the city councillor would go to the administrator's office and demand to know why.

The Next Generation

Ed and Walter Sullivan grew up on Surrey St., near where Mather House is today, in a house their dad owned. They had 10 siblings, seven of whom survived childhood.

"We never had a dime," Walter says.

During their childhood, the neighborhood where the Sullivans lived--called Kerry Corner--was small, close-knit and, above all, Irish. The neighborhood changed forever after Harvard bought up much of the property there, but the Sullivans remain proud of their Irish roots. Ed, in fact, is an honorary citizen of Dublin, Ireland.

The Sullivans were devout Irish Catholics and longstanding members of St. Paul's church in Harvard Square. Francis R. Powers '49 lived in an apartment on Mass. Ave. after he graduated, and he says he could see them in the church on Sundays.

"Every Sunday and holiday, there were two very well dressed young people that would open up the church and greet people," Powers says.

"I saw them in the church taking the collection basket around--and I thought 'these guys work so hard, they must own the church,'" Powers says. "I never saw anyone work harder for their church."

Powers, now clerk of the courts in Plymouth County on Massachusetts' south shore, later discovered that these two hardworking young men were Walter and Ed Sullivan.

Though they received only a high school education, Walter and Ed received plenty of practical schooling in city politics.

Because of their father's asthma, one of the brothers always had to accompany him and help out with his city council business.

But Mickey "the Dude" died in 1949. Edward, who had originally planned to be an undertaker, changed his mind and won Mickey's seat on the city council.

Edward Sullivan decided to run for Clerk of the Courts in 1952 when he found that no Democrat had ever held that position. He lost his bid that year, but ran again and won in 1958. He has been serving as clerk ever since.

He continued to occupy the Sullivan seat on the council until 1959, serving one term as mayor. Walter took over the seat in 1960 and served for 34 years, including three stints as mayor.

Throughout, they never lost touch with their Irish Catholic roots. Walter Sullivan eventually served as head usher at St. Paul's. And every March, the Sullivan family hosts an Irish St. Patrick's Day party at the Marriott in Kendall Square.

'A Living Legend'

Even when he lived in Washington D.C., former U.S. Speaker of the House Thomas P. "Tip" O'Neill used to say that he remained registered in Cambridge so he could vote for Walter Sullivan and school committee member Joe Maynard.

Sullivan was always more interested in people than issues.

"Walter is a common man," says William H. Walsh, who has served on the city council since 1986. "He was never a public speaker and never a great legislator, but he has helped more people than all great legislators and all public speakers combined."

"He just liked to do things for people," says Eliot B. Spalding '26, a former editor of the Cambridge Chronicle. "His political success was based on helping people out and taking care of people."

Spalding says that he was once riding in a car with Walter when a lady pulled up next to them and thanked the councillor for something he had done for her three years ago.

"People who have never supported the Sullivans would call Walter when they needed help," Koocher says.

Without exception, Walter Sullivan would be there. "We're on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week," he says. "Whether people were with me or against me, I'd help them."

That policy would sometime upset the people around the councillor and mayor.

"The only people who ever get angry at Walter," says Rafferty, "are his friends, who wonder why he is helping people who are not loyal to him."

But when it came to policy making. Walter Sullivan wasn't always a friend of the little person. The city councillor was almost invariably pro-business.

"Walter represented the business community," says Edward N. Cyr, who served on the Cambridge city council from 1990-94. "He represented the chamber of commerce. He never voted for a down zoning."

"While they were political opponents, Cyr says he has always been fond of Sullivan.

Cyr says that when he was 15, he had to go before a review board to become an Eagle Scout. Walter Sullivan sat on the board.

Sullivan told Cyr then that he was too idealistic but that he "would get over it." After Cyr joined the city council in 1990, Cyr asked Sullivan if he thought the new councillor had gotten over his idealism.

"You'll never get over it, you son of a bitch," Sullivan jokingly retorted, according to Cyr.

Like his father, Walter Sullivan was a skilled practitioner of patronage politics.

Sullivan gave city jobs to people who needed them. "The city was the employer of last resort," Cyr says. "It's old-fashioned patronage politics--you call up your city councillor and he gets you a job."

The councillor's generosity knew few bounds. His son, city councillor Michael A. Sullivan, recalls that his father often opened his house to homeless people.

Walter Sullivan's appeal came from his broad popularity among people from all walks of life. Cyr says that because of his broad constituency, Walter was a "perennial ticket topper."

"In a city with great multicultural variety, Walter walked in all areas," Rafferty says. "He worked with affluent and poor constituents."

According to Connarton, the Sullivans hired minorities before it was in vogue.

"Diversity, minority employment--these were things the Sullivans were doing without fanfare," Connarton says.

In particular, Koocher says Walter was "revered" in the Jewish community.

Every year during the high holiday services, the Rabbi at the Tremont Street Synagogue in Boston would read a telegram from Walter.

One year, mayor Alfred E. Velucci sent a telegram in which he announced two dedications to Jewish citizens and Sullivan forgot to send one.

But the Rabbi skipped Velucci's telegram and read Sullivan's from the previous year.

"The family has connections that allows them to provide services far beyond the political," Koocher says.

Walter Sullivan's geniality also made him popular with other politicians. He served three terms as mayor (1968-9, 1974-5, and 1986-7), and city council meetings under his direction were always quick.

"Walter wouldn't get up and have a 45-minute debate," Rafferty says. "He had strong ideas, but if he had the vote, he'd do it, and if not, he wouldn't hold a six-hour grandstanding meeting."

Rafferty and others say Sullivan would never let policy differences interfere with personal relationships.

"We were on opposite sides," says Thomas H.D. Mahoney, a retired MIT history professor who served with Sullivan on the council for 8 years, "but we never had a personal disagreement. He was a pleasant, courteous councillor."

'A Model Around the Country'

In many ways, Edward Sullivan and his younger brother complement each other perfectly. Ed, now 73, is not quite as outgoing and not quite as forgiving as Walter.

"My theory is that if someone gives you his word, it's their bond," says Ed. "With Walter, they can get away with breaking it. With me, they can't."

The personality difference enabled Ed to help out his little brother. "People might have taken advantage of Walter's forgiving nature if it wasn't for Edward," Rafferty says.

While the court clerks' office has long been thought of as the site of rampant cronyism, Ed is also known for the innovative way in which he managed it.

"Ed has done some of the most innovative things," Cyr says. "His court is a model around the country."

Perhaps Sullivan's most popular innovation has been a one-day, one-jury system. Under the system, jurors are called in, and if they are not selected for a trial, they go home the same day.

At the same time, however, jurors can no longer receive exemptions from service.

Ironically, Ed Sullivan the politician hurt himself with this reform, Foster says.

"He used to get a lot of people out of jury duty," Foster says. "But this is a more fair process."

Ed says his court was the first in the state to computerize, the first to hire a Black assistant clerk, and the first to hire a female first assistant. Recently, Sullivan says he introduced legislation that would allow attorneys around county to access the court database so that attorneys do not have to to the court-house to look up records.

The clerk of the courts is also remarkably popular with his employees.

"He is great to the personnel," says Terrence W. O'Reilly, head administrative assistant to the clerk, who has worked for Ed for 28 years. "He bases his work on his relationships with employees."

O'Reilly campaigned for Sullivan in his recent successful re-election bid, and, he says, "Ed is the only person I would ever do that for."

This year, Sullivan faced a tough re-election campaign, spending more than $100,000 and advertising on television. But his human touch proved to be his best asset.

During the shooting of one of the TV ads, Rafferty recalls, "an elderly person walked right into the middle of the scene."

"Ed stopped and talked to the person for 15 minutes," Rafferty says. "The director said he was losing money, but Ed was patient and allowed the whole operation to stand still."

The New Councillor

Michael Anthony Sullivan attended council meetings from the time he was 7 years old.

Sullivan says other councillors recall giving him money to go buy ice cream so he would get out of their way, but he says he remembers nothing of the sort. When he was older, Michael Sullivan worked with his father for three years. Walter Sullivan now says that although his son has served only 10 months on the council, he "knows just as much as anyone sitting in that council for 15 to 20 years."

Walter says he brought up his five children to value public service like he did.

"They learned right in the house that there was no bullshit," he says. "They were out there to respect people and that's what they did."

Like his father and grandfather, Sullivan is accessible. He attends as many community meetings as he can and, at 2:30 a.m. on a recent morning, he even received a call from a constituent who had been imprisoned and needed help.

But unlike his father and grandfather, the young Michael has an extensive education. He attended Boston College High School, Boston College and Boston College Law School.

After law school, Michael Sullivan served more than four years in the District Attorney's Office and three in the Massachusetts Attorney General's office. At both jobs, he was joined by his identical twin, Walter J. Sullivan Jr.

Because of his educational background, Michael, now 35, has a different perspective from the other Sullivans. He has moved away from the old-style patronage way of politicking, observers say. "Michael is doing for the Sullivans what Bobby Kennedy's kids did for that family," Koocher says. "He is moving toward an issue basis rather than a patronage basis."

Sullivan says that, because of his education and experience as a lawyer, there is a difference in style between him and his father. "The Tab said I said more in two weeks that I was on the council than my father said in 30 years."

"But talk doesn't count," Michael Sullivan says. "The ultimate vote does."

Sullivan's education, experience and youth make him a natural candidate for higher office. He says he doesn't know what office he would run for, but he's sure it will be "a place where I get to affect people's lives in a positive way."Former city councillor WALTER J. SULLIVAN (above) and his son (inset) current councillor MICHAEL A. SULLIVAN.

"They are in government solely to serve the people," Connarton says. "They give it 100 percent, even though it costs them personally and professionally."

In fact, Walter, perhaps the family's most eminent member, still shares a modest house on Putnam Street with two other families. His son, Michael, still lives at home. The house's not too far from where he, Ed and seven brothers and sisters grew up on Surrey St.

"Nobody will ever accuse a Sullivan of forgetting his roots, forgetting his constituents, or getting rich on politics," says Koocher, who served on the city's school committee from 1974-1986.

"No one can ever question their integrity," Connarton says.

'The Dude'

The political juggernaut did not start auspiciously. Before he was 11 years old, Michael Andrew Sullivan had lost both his parents.

His mother died of an illness. His father was killed in an accident. A brother also died, drowning in the Charles River.

His aunt, a widow with six kids of her own, took young Mickey and his three siblings in. She supported them by running a boarding house at the corner of Plympton and Mt. Auburn Street, the location of the new Harvard-Radcliffe Hillel.

Sullivan's formal education ended in the fifth grade, and he got his first job at age 12 driving a six-horse team. In his early teens, Harvard students hung his nickname on him. Undergraduates dressed Mickey up in a tuxedo, and called him "the Dude." It stuck.

Sullivan worked hard, and by the time he was elected to the city council, he had built his own small trucking business.

On the council, he was natural, except for one thing. He suffered from asthma, and often had to use an inhaler before getting up in front of the council.

Despite his lack of a formal education, Mickey "could debate anyone on the council floor, no matter who he was," his son Edward says.

"The Dude" had a devious sense of humor. In 1948, when the councillors were struggling to elect a mayor, Sullivan created a moment of levity by placing an egg in fellow councillor Hyman Pill's pocket, hoping that it would break when Pill sat down. The egg story made the pages of Life magazine.

Mickey would also routinely joke about paving over Harvard Yard and melting down the John Harvard statue for the World War II effort.

It was during Sullivan's first days of service, during the Great Depression, that Mickey began practicing the brand of patronage politics that would become a family hallmark.

In the Depression, people used to line up outside the Sullivan house to seek city jobs from his father, Edward Sullivan recalls.

Fred R. Cruickshank, a longtime friend of the Sullivan family, says his mother used to tell him a story about a lady who had met "Mickey the Dude" in city hall outside the welfare office.

Mickey did not know the woman, but when she told him that the welfare man wasn't doing anything for her, the city councillor said he'd take care of it. Sullivan then "laid the welfare man out in lather," according to Cruickshank.

Cruickshank also says the family frequently took in people with no place to sleep for the night. "There was always someone living in their house," he says.

Connarton also says Mickey used to walk the corridors of City Hospital (now the Cambridge Hospital) and ask patients if they were receiving good care. If they weren't, the city councillor would go to the administrator's office and demand to know why.

The Next Generation

Ed and Walter Sullivan grew up on Surrey St., near where Mather House is today, in a house their dad owned. They had 10 siblings, seven of whom survived childhood.

"We never had a dime," Walter says.

During their childhood, the neighborhood where the Sullivans lived--called Kerry Corner--was small, close-knit and, above all, Irish. The neighborhood changed forever after Harvard bought up much of the property there, but the Sullivans remain proud of their Irish roots. Ed, in fact, is an honorary citizen of Dublin, Ireland.

The Sullivans were devout Irish Catholics and longstanding members of St. Paul's church in Harvard Square. Francis R. Powers '49 lived in an apartment on Mass. Ave. after he graduated, and he says he could see them in the church on Sundays.

"Every Sunday and holiday, there were two very well dressed young people that would open up the church and greet people," Powers says.

"I saw them in the church taking the collection basket around--and I thought 'these guys work so hard, they must own the church,'" Powers says. "I never saw anyone work harder for their church."

Powers, now clerk of the courts in Plymouth County on Massachusetts' south shore, later discovered that these two hardworking young men were Walter and Ed Sullivan.

Though they received only a high school education, Walter and Ed received plenty of practical schooling in city politics.

Because of their father's asthma, one of the brothers always had to accompany him and help out with his city council business.

But Mickey "the Dude" died in 1949. Edward, who had originally planned to be an undertaker, changed his mind and won Mickey's seat on the city council.

Edward Sullivan decided to run for Clerk of the Courts in 1952 when he found that no Democrat had ever held that position. He lost his bid that year, but ran again and won in 1958. He has been serving as clerk ever since.

He continued to occupy the Sullivan seat on the council until 1959, serving one term as mayor. Walter took over the seat in 1960 and served for 34 years, including three stints as mayor.

Throughout, they never lost touch with their Irish Catholic roots. Walter Sullivan eventually served as head usher at St. Paul's. And every March, the Sullivan family hosts an Irish St. Patrick's Day party at the Marriott in Kendall Square.

'A Living Legend'

Even when he lived in Washington D.C., former U.S. Speaker of the House Thomas P. "Tip" O'Neill used to say that he remained registered in Cambridge so he could vote for Walter Sullivan and school committee member Joe Maynard.

Sullivan was always more interested in people than issues.

"Walter is a common man," says William H. Walsh, who has served on the city council since 1986. "He was never a public speaker and never a great legislator, but he has helped more people than all great legislators and all public speakers combined."

"He just liked to do things for people," says Eliot B. Spalding '26, a former editor of the Cambridge Chronicle. "His political success was based on helping people out and taking care of people."

Spalding says that he was once riding in a car with Walter when a lady pulled up next to them and thanked the councillor for something he had done for her three years ago.

"People who have never supported the Sullivans would call Walter when they needed help," Koocher says.

Without exception, Walter Sullivan would be there. "We're on call 24 hours a day, 7 days a week," he says. "Whether people were with me or against me, I'd help them."

That policy would sometime upset the people around the councillor and mayor.

"The only people who ever get angry at Walter," says Rafferty, "are his friends, who wonder why he is helping people who are not loyal to him."

But when it came to policy making. Walter Sullivan wasn't always a friend of the little person. The city councillor was almost invariably pro-business.

"Walter represented the business community," says Edward N. Cyr, who served on the Cambridge city council from 1990-94. "He represented the chamber of commerce. He never voted for a down zoning."

"While they were political opponents, Cyr says he has always been fond of Sullivan.

Cyr says that when he was 15, he had to go before a review board to become an Eagle Scout. Walter Sullivan sat on the board.

Sullivan told Cyr then that he was too idealistic but that he "would get over it." After Cyr joined the city council in 1990, Cyr asked Sullivan if he thought the new councillor had gotten over his idealism.

"You'll never get over it, you son of a bitch," Sullivan jokingly retorted, according to Cyr.

Like his father, Walter Sullivan was a skilled practitioner of patronage politics.

Sullivan gave city jobs to people who needed them. "The city was the employer of last resort," Cyr says. "It's old-fashioned patronage politics--you call up your city councillor and he gets you a job."

The councillor's generosity knew few bounds. His son, city councillor Michael A. Sullivan, recalls that his father often opened his house to homeless people.

Walter Sullivan's appeal came from his broad popularity among people from all walks of life. Cyr says that because of his broad constituency, Walter was a "perennial ticket topper."

"In a city with great multicultural variety, Walter walked in all areas," Rafferty says. "He worked with affluent and poor constituents."

According to Connarton, the Sullivans hired minorities before it was in vogue.

"Diversity, minority employment--these were things the Sullivans were doing without fanfare," Connarton says.

In particular, Koocher says Walter was "revered" in the Jewish community.

Every year during the high holiday services, the Rabbi at the Tremont Street Synagogue in Boston would read a telegram from Walter.

One year, mayor Alfred E. Velucci sent a telegram in which he announced two dedications to Jewish citizens and Sullivan forgot to send one.

But the Rabbi skipped Velucci's telegram and read Sullivan's from the previous year.

"The family has connections that allows them to provide services far beyond the political," Koocher says.

Walter Sullivan's geniality also made him popular with other politicians. He served three terms as mayor (1968-9, 1974-5, and 1986-7), and city council meetings under his direction were always quick.

"Walter wouldn't get up and have a 45-minute debate," Rafferty says. "He had strong ideas, but if he had the vote, he'd do it, and if not, he wouldn't hold a six-hour grandstanding meeting."

Rafferty and others say Sullivan would never let policy differences interfere with personal relationships.

"We were on opposite sides," says Thomas H.D. Mahoney, a retired MIT history professor who served with Sullivan on the council for 8 years, "but we never had a personal disagreement. He was a pleasant, courteous councillor."

'A Model Around the Country'

In many ways, Edward Sullivan and his younger brother complement each other perfectly. Ed, now 73, is not quite as outgoing and not quite as forgiving as Walter.

"My theory is that if someone gives you his word, it's their bond," says Ed. "With Walter, they can get away with breaking it. With me, they can't."

The personality difference enabled Ed to help out his little brother. "People might have taken advantage of Walter's forgiving nature if it wasn't for Edward," Rafferty says.

While the court clerks' office has long been thought of as the site of rampant cronyism, Ed is also known for the innovative way in which he managed it.

"Ed has done some of the most innovative things," Cyr says. "His court is a model around the country."

Perhaps Sullivan's most popular innovation has been a one-day, one-jury system. Under the system, jurors are called in, and if they are not selected for a trial, they go home the same day.

At the same time, however, jurors can no longer receive exemptions from service.

Ironically, Ed Sullivan the politician hurt himself with this reform, Foster says.

"He used to get a lot of people out of jury duty," Foster says. "But this is a more fair process."

Ed says his court was the first in the state to computerize, the first to hire a Black assistant clerk, and the first to hire a female first assistant. Recently, Sullivan says he introduced legislation that would allow attorneys around county to access the court database so that attorneys do not have to to the court-house to look up records.

The clerk of the courts is also remarkably popular with his employees.

"He is great to the personnel," says Terrence W. O'Reilly, head administrative assistant to the clerk, who has worked for Ed for 28 years. "He bases his work on his relationships with employees."

O'Reilly campaigned for Sullivan in his recent successful re-election bid, and, he says, "Ed is the only person I would ever do that for."

This year, Sullivan faced a tough re-election campaign, spending more than $100,000 and advertising on television. But his human touch proved to be his best asset.

During the shooting of one of the TV ads, Rafferty recalls, "an elderly person walked right into the middle of the scene."

"Ed stopped and talked to the person for 15 minutes," Rafferty says. "The director said he was losing money, but Ed was patient and allowed the whole operation to stand still."

The New Councillor

Michael Anthony Sullivan attended council meetings from the time he was 7 years old.

Sullivan says other councillors recall giving him money to go buy ice cream so he would get out of their way, but he says he remembers nothing of the sort. When he was older, Michael Sullivan worked with his father for three years. Walter Sullivan now says that although his son has served only 10 months on the council, he "knows just as much as anyone sitting in that council for 15 to 20 years."

Walter says he brought up his five children to value public service like he did.

"They learned right in the house that there was no bullshit," he says. "They were out there to respect people and that's what they did."

Like his father and grandfather, Sullivan is accessible. He attends as many community meetings as he can and, at 2:30 a.m. on a recent morning, he even received a call from a constituent who had been imprisoned and needed help.

But unlike his father and grandfather, the young Michael has an extensive education. He attended Boston College High School, Boston College and Boston College Law School.

After law school, Michael Sullivan served more than four years in the District Attorney's Office and three in the Massachusetts Attorney General's office. At both jobs, he was joined by his identical twin, Walter J. Sullivan Jr.

Because of his educational background, Michael, now 35, has a different perspective from the other Sullivans. He has moved away from the old-style patronage way of politicking, observers say. "Michael is doing for the Sullivans what Bobby Kennedy's kids did for that family," Koocher says. "He is moving toward an issue basis rather than a patronage basis."

Sullivan says that, because of his education and experience as a lawyer, there is a difference in style between him and his father. "The Tab said I said more in two weeks that I was on the council than my father said in 30 years."

"But talk doesn't count," Michael Sullivan says. "The ultimate vote does."

Sullivan's education, experience and youth make him a natural candidate for higher office. He says he doesn't know what office he would run for, but he's sure it will be "a place where I get to affect people's lives in a positive way."Former city councillor WALTER J. SULLIVAN (above) and his son (inset) current councillor MICHAEL A. SULLIVAN.

The clerk of the courts is also remarkably popular with his employees.

"He is great to the personnel," says Terrence W. O'Reilly, head administrative assistant to the clerk, who has worked for Ed for 28 years. "He bases his work on his relationships with employees."

O'Reilly campaigned for Sullivan in his recent successful re-election bid, and, he says, "Ed is the only person I would ever do that for."

This year, Sullivan faced a tough re-election campaign, spending more than $100,000 and advertising on television. But his human touch proved to be his best asset.

During the shooting of one of the TV ads, Rafferty recalls, "an elderly person walked right into the middle of the scene."

"Ed stopped and talked to the person for 15 minutes," Rafferty says. "The director said he was losing money, but Ed was patient and allowed the whole operation to stand still."

The New Councillor

Michael Anthony Sullivan attended council meetings from the time he was 7 years old.

Sullivan says other councillors recall giving him money to go buy ice cream so he would get out of their way, but he says he remembers nothing of the sort. When he was older, Michael Sullivan worked with his father for three years. Walter Sullivan now says that although his son has served only 10 months on the council, he "knows just as much as anyone sitting in that council for 15 to 20 years."

Walter says he brought up his five children to value public service like he did.

"They learned right in the house that there was no bullshit," he says. "They were out there to respect people and that's what they did."

Like his father and grandfather, Sullivan is accessible. He attends as many community meetings as he can and, at 2:30 a.m. on a recent morning, he even received a call from a constituent who had been imprisoned and needed help.

But unlike his father and grandfather, the young Michael has an extensive education. He attended Boston College High School, Boston College and Boston College Law School.

After law school, Michael Sullivan served more than four years in the District Attorney's Office and three in the Massachusetts Attorney General's office. At both jobs, he was joined by his identical twin, Walter J. Sullivan Jr.

Because of his educational background, Michael, now 35, has a different perspective from the other Sullivans. He has moved away from the old-style patronage way of politicking, observers say. "Michael is doing for the Sullivans what Bobby Kennedy's kids did for that family," Koocher says. "He is moving toward an issue basis rather than a patronage basis."

Sullivan says that, because of his education and experience as a lawyer, there is a difference in style between him and his father. "The Tab said I said more in two weeks that I was on the council than my father said in 30 years."

"But talk doesn't count," Michael Sullivan says. "The ultimate vote does."

Sullivan's education, experience and youth make him a natural candidate for higher office. He says he doesn't know what office he would run for, but he's sure it will be "a place where I get to affect people's lives in a positive way."Former city councillor WALTER J. SULLIVAN (above) and his son (inset) current councillor MICHAEL A. SULLIVAN.