Eulogy for Marian Elizabeth “Prissi “ Siullivan

Investigative Reporter / Columnist The Carroll StarNews and StarNews 2004-2020

September 9, 2020

by Sue Horn

Ediotr/Publisher StarNews

Death is a selfish thing, isn’t it?   Stealing our joy – that went by the name of Marian Elizabeth Lumpkin Sullivan

Prissi was such a wonderful, talented, fiery, unique woman whose life was truly a masterpiece collection of loving and giving.

She had the incredible gift of this friendship of giving, as she was, in fact, an advocate to each of us. She was your friend and you mattered to her. She took you on. She was your passionate, ardent, advocate.

Truly, we believed that we were HER good friend and we felt wonderful about that – didn’t we?

Those whom she chose – yes, as an advocate, she chose YOU – family members, people, groups, causes, clubs, co-workers, officials, neighbors – didn’t matter if you had not chosen her yet – you received this never wavering gift of her advocacy: her friendship, her love and loyalty to help you, be there for you, make suggestions about  a problem you had, – and then make her suggestion again, in case you didn’t hear her the first time – and so many times, she was just there – maybe on the phone, maybe in person, talking with you, talking to you, talking .  But this talking of hers – was the special door that she opened again and again, allowing you room to come on in, and feel comfortable, and be her friend, too.   I was one of the fortunate ones she chose.

Prissi applied for the job as a stringer reporter for StarNews not quite two decades ago. A perfect fit from the start, as she was already “covering” city council, school board, and others, as an active and vocal citizen along with husband David and friend Val, and others. She was already familiar with the subjects of her assigned stories, she was informed and up to date. She had also worked at the Capitol years before, and had many connections, seemingly everywhere.

Prissi’s “reach”, as we say in the media business, was incalculable. Over the four decades of her active involvement (and I emphasize “active”) in her community and state through boards, councils, and  elected officials, the U.S. Census; her active memberships in organizations civic and private; her active participation in her family and friends’ lives; plus two decades of published stories in StarNews, it is impossible to calculate how many lives were reached by her works. And her works were solid and good. There was purpose to her actions: to make positive differences in her world, either through exposure of what should be changed for the better, or doing the work needed herself to make those improvements.

Prissi Sullivan’s strong reliable talent in story writing – whether it was investigative no-punches pulled reporting, humorous witty columns, covering political campaigns, or the many profiles she wrote on area notables – made this editor’s job easier. She was a professional through and through.

She asked me a question one evening as she was headed to cover a particularly confusing meeting. I told her to do as she always did, cover what you hear and see, and I will do my part, too, as editor, to ensure a successful published story – you know, a story in which you don’t end up getting sued. Besides, I said to her, most likely, you will be the smartest person in that room. “WELL!” she replied. 

About two years later, Prissi called me and stated that we needed to go to a particular, former, public building, interview the guy in charge and get some photos – that taxpayer monies were being wasted. Those buzzwords got me in the car and we were off. The plan: we approach the front door of this, former public building, identify ourselves, ask our questions to the man in charge, take our photos, and leave.

As we neared the front door, Prissi suddenly took off darting to the left and began “walking briskly” down the side of the building.What are you doing? I called- she just motioned me to go to the door. I kept watching  as she kept walking until she was in front of a window. I was shocked as I saw her lift up her leg, higher, and higher, grab the window sill -careful with her clunky camera hanging around her neck – this was long before easy-to-use cell phone cameras – pull herself up, and then she rolled in through the open window. What?? What part of the plan was this?? Simultaneously, I wondered, is it considered breaking and entering if the window is already open?   Well, now she’s in, so now I need to get in.And then, WE need to get out.

I walked to the front door, that was amazingly standing wide open. I found myself talking with the stoic and unimaginative looking gatekeeper woman. I introduced myself; and asked for the man, whom today I will simply call “John” (not his real name) so I could ask him our questions. “He’s not here,” the gatekeeper woman stonefacedly said.

Nothing was going as planned. And Prissi is in this building, somewhere.   I wondered, is bail money tax deductible?

So, I just began blabbering, asking the gatekeeper lady what she did there, did she enjoy her job, did she have a phone number in case I had some questions later, and then she interrupted and asked, “Which newpaper did you say you were with?” With that, I realized, I had an opening. And I took it. I immediately countered with, “Hey, isn’t that John’s vehicle out there?” “What?” she asked. “Yeah,” I said. “I saw it in the parking lot when I was coming in” and I pointed in that direction. She turned, and walked over to the open front door to look out – and I turned and took off “briskly” down the hallway, all the while hoping I had bail money enough for two. I went room to room searching for Prissi. The building, as it turned out, was completely empty of people, but full of taxpayer funded items that had been given away to the owners of this building – just as Prissi had said. I found her “merrily clicking away” taking photos, and she began talking about all the items. So I began to speed talk to her – “Did you get photos of the TVs? Did you get photos of the tables and desks and chairs and air conditioning units?” “Yes,” she said laughing. “Okay,” I said, “Now where is that window you came through??”

Prissi stopped abruptly, put her hands on her hips, calmly looked at me, and said, “I got my big— through that window once. I’m NOT doing it twice.” So, I resignedly walked back down that hallway that looked even longer than before, back to the now not very happy gatekeeper lady, and began to barrage her with inane chatter – Sorry, I didn’t see John, I thought that was his vehicle – while she pointedly said that I was wrong – that his truck wasn’t out there and I asked for her phone number again and then I saw Prissi appear behind her, past her, and then Prissi glided out the front door – and I was right behind._Prissi contacted “John” later, confronting him with the photos she had in hand that he couldn’t deny, and she then wrote an amazing scoop. I like to say “We” got a great story that day, but I ended up only filling the role of chauffeur and cover. It was Prissi who got the story, she knew exactly how to make it happen. That gatekeeper would never have let us past her to take the photos. And as a result of Reporter Sullivan’s story and photos, the government entity involved made board policy changes preventing that type of waste happening again. That’s investigative journalism at its best. And with that, a strange and wonderful thing happened. Our roles changed from boss assigning stories to reporter to two co-workers slash friends working side by side towards the common goal of improving our community through the StarNews.

One evening, we were both attending a commission meeting, sitting on the front row, of course. Right in the middle of it while commissioners were discussing spending money and about to take a vote on it, Prissi dramatically leaned over to my ear, put her hand up to cover her mouth, and she whispered, “I’m not whispering anything important  – I just want them to think I am – maybe they will be more careful with their vote.”

And as I sat there beside Prissi Sullivan in that room, I realized, that, yes, indeed, SHE WAS the smartest person in that room.

The CoVID-19 restrictions have been tough. She told me she was “done” with “all that” and couldn’t wait for it to be over. She had enjoyed the once a month “Paint Nite” class with teacher Miss Pink at Uncorked on Main in Villa Rica. Prissi convinced me to attend about two years ago, saying what great fun it was – and she was right! I remember looking around at the room full of adults painting, laughing, listening to Miss Pink’s instructions in-between the loud music starting and stopping, and all of us diligently working to walk away each evening with a “masterpiece”! Prissi and I were just two of the 30-40 regular classmates attending right up to sheltering-in-place. I found out two days ago that it was Prissi who had organized all of that and made the arrangements with Uncorked to have Miss Pink teach there. A win for two businesses and great memories for forty budding artists! Another example of Prissi Sullivan’s “reach” in her community. She loved life and lived it every day. We already miss you, dear friend.

I believe she would want each of us here now to go BOLDLY into this strange new daily world, one without our friend, allie, confidant, sister, aunt, Granny, Mama, wife as we are now armed with benefit of having shared her life with us.

One of the Noble Truths is “the root of suffering is attachment”

The greater the attachment, the greater the suffering

At some point in your future, the pain of this great suffering of this loss will become tempered

And then quietly seasoned into a sweetness of feelings and memories, that you will hold dear and cherish