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Thirty Rooms to Hide In: Insanity, Addiction, and Rock ‘n' Roll in the Shadow of the Mayo Clinic
Author Luke Longstreet Sullivan has a simple way of describing his new “It’s like The Shining . . . only funnier.” And as this astonishing account reveals, the comment is accurate. Thirty Rooms to Hide In tells the story of Sullivan’s father and his descent from being one of the world’s top orthopedic surgeons at the Mayo Clinic to a man who is increasingly abusive, alcoholic, and insane, ultimately dying alone on the floor of a Georgia motel. For his wife and six sons, the years prior to his death were years of turmoil, anger, and family dysfunction; but somehow, they were also a time of real happiness for Sullivan and his five brothers, full of dark humor and much laughter.
Through the 1950s and 1960s, the six brothers had a wildly fun and thoroughly dysfunctional childhood living in a forbidding thirty-room mansion, known as the Millstone, on the outskirts of Rochester, Minnesota. The many rooms of the immense home, as well as their mother’s loving protection, allowed the Sullivan brothers to grow up as normal, mischievous boys. Against a backdrop of the times—the Cold War, the Cuban Missile Crisis, fallout shelters, JFK’s assassination, and the Beatles—the cracks in their home life and their father’s psyche continue to widen. When their mother decides to leave the Millstone and move the family across town, the Sullivan boys are able to find solace in each other and in rock ’n’ roll.
As Thirty Rooms to Hide In follows the story of the Sullivan family—at times grim, at others poignant—there is a wonderful, dark humor that lifts the narrative. Tragic, funny, and powerfully evocative of the 1950s and 1960s, Thirty Rooms to Hide In is a tale of public success and private dysfunction, personal and familial resilience, and the strange power of humor to give refuge when it is needed most, even if it can’t always provide the answers.
Through the 1950s and 1960s, the six brothers had a wildly fun and thoroughly dysfunctional childhood living in a forbidding thirty-room mansion, known as the Millstone, on the outskirts of Rochester, Minnesota. The many rooms of the immense home, as well as their mother’s loving protection, allowed the Sullivan brothers to grow up as normal, mischievous boys. Against a backdrop of the times—the Cold War, the Cuban Missile Crisis, fallout shelters, JFK’s assassination, and the Beatles—the cracks in their home life and their father’s psyche continue to widen. When their mother decides to leave the Millstone and move the family across town, the Sullivan boys are able to find solace in each other and in rock ’n’ roll.
As Thirty Rooms to Hide In follows the story of the Sullivan family—at times grim, at others poignant—there is a wonderful, dark humor that lifts the narrative. Tragic, funny, and powerfully evocative of the 1950s and 1960s, Thirty Rooms to Hide In is a tale of public success and private dysfunction, personal and familial resilience, and the strange power of humor to give refuge when it is needed most, even if it can’t always provide the answers.
230 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 22, 2011
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 107 reviews
September 1, 2016
4 1/2 stars Hooked by the title, deadly isn’t it:) Neither alcoholism or domestic violence are class conscious, good to come across a tell-all about a wealthy family for a change. The father, a highly respected doctor spirals into self-destruction. Matter of fact rather than gloomy, it just is what it is. Clever writing, always candid, often raw, his sense of the absurd keeps it real and yes - even entertaining. Opens at the funeral with the six boys fighting for self control, not of their overwhelming grief but to stop themselves from breaking out in hysterical laughter. Keeping up appearances all part of it but having to listen to a pack of lies about what a fabulous man he was with a straight face...seriously?
“He’d wondered whether, after our father’s eulogy, the minister might allow “fifteen minutes for rebuttal”
All the boys adopt that smart-ass attitude, that slap on the back “I’m good” thing they're famous for - as their way of coping. ”We relished the dysfunction of it. Being different was cool”
A surprisingly good time capsule of the 50’s and 60's as well. The 50's when “Lies, sexual repression, public relations, and cheerfulness were the culture. Such were the times – no alcoholics, only party boys. - No spousal abuse, only “spats with the wife.” The 60’s have The Beatles arriving just in time to take over as role models, loved how the boys found refuge in the honesty of rock 'n roll. Most of the credit belongs with Myra though. An amazing, intelligent woman with the courage and maternal instincts of a lioness.
Cons: Snarky humour can wear thin, that and the demonizing of the alcoholic, shocked by the lack of sympathy. Just my feelings, it's his memoir and he calls it how he sees it - still. While he's definitely clever, he comes across a bit immature.
Meanderings: this would make for a great book club read – worth talking about. My spin, sad that the author never sought help for himself – 40+ years later he’s stuck in the blaming / anger phase, hope he can let it go – kicker of an epilogue…
“He’d wondered whether, after our father’s eulogy, the minister might allow “fifteen minutes for rebuttal”
All the boys adopt that smart-ass attitude, that slap on the back “I’m good” thing they're famous for - as their way of coping. ”We relished the dysfunction of it. Being different was cool”
A surprisingly good time capsule of the 50’s and 60's as well. The 50's when “Lies, sexual repression, public relations, and cheerfulness were the culture. Such were the times – no alcoholics, only party boys. - No spousal abuse, only “spats with the wife.” The 60’s have The Beatles arriving just in time to take over as role models, loved how the boys found refuge in the honesty of rock 'n roll. Most of the credit belongs with Myra though. An amazing, intelligent woman with the courage and maternal instincts of a lioness.
Cons: Snarky humour can wear thin, that and the demonizing of the alcoholic, shocked by the lack of sympathy. Just my feelings, it's his memoir and he calls it how he sees it - still. While he's definitely clever, he comes across a bit immature.
Meanderings: this would make for a great book club read – worth talking about. My spin, sad that the author never sought help for himself – 40+ years later he’s stuck in the blaming / anger phase, hope he can let it go – kicker of an epilogue…
September 22, 2016
We didn't know whether to weep or burst out laughing. So we laughed.
I hate the term "emotional roller coaster," but I can think of no better description for this book.
One minute I'm roaring at the antics of six brothers growing up during the fifties and sixties. Holy crap! I would not have survived these kids! My husband, who was once a part of a three-brother wrecking crew, was forced to listen to me read entire paragraphs featuring exploits of unimaginable destruction - fingernail polish used as paint to decorate hallway walls, innumerable items flushed, jugs of bleach poured into boxes of Tide, heirloom china used as stacking toys, and framed artwork assembled into forts. He shook his head, and I could tell he was thinking, "Why the hell didn't we think of that stuff?"
These descriptions of childhood are priceless, conjuring so many sights, smells, and fondly-remembered incidents from my own past.
Army Guy rules were fairly specific, one of which required you to produce a realistic machine gun noise.
If you were out in the open and you heard the ack-ack-ack, you were dead. Since losing was unacceptable, you made your peace with being killed by winning in the Best Death category. Nobody died as good as you. You flung yourself to the ground, overacting a death rattle that could be heard from the cheap seats . . . Your hands went to your stomach, your legs crumpled and then stillness.
Falling to the spongy green grass, that was death for us - your face to the Minnesota sky, the sunlight turning eyelid blood vessels into orange spider-webs. There you lay, certain your showy death had given a sort of murderer's remorse to your assailant, and you waited until the battle ended or Mom called you in for sandwiches. To us, that's all death was - a brief midsummer stillness and then a sandwich.
Now here comes the roller coaster part . . .
These idyllic scenes of a boyhood well-lived are frequently interrupted by an alcoholic and abusive father.
"WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO AROUND HERE? KNOCK SOME HEADS TOGETHER?"
Okay, most of our dads have probably said that at one time or another. But has your dad eversaid yelled this to you and/or your mother?
"WELL, THEN I'LL JUST GO OUT TO THE TOOL SHED AND GET THE AXE AND SMASH THIS GODDAMNED DOOR IN! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT?"
This was thehighlight lowlight of what became known in the family as the "Axe Incident."
The real heart of this memoir is the boys' mother, a gentle woman who loved books and reading, and, somehow, her vitriolic, tormentor of a husband. Much of the book consists of her detailed and beautifully written letters to her beloved father. (This was one thing that irked me - her parents KNEW of the verbal AND physical abuse their daughter was enduring, and offered NOTHING other than words of encouragement. Then again, this was the fifties. Men were not alcoholics. They were tipsy "party boys," like Dean Martin. Domestic abuse? Nonexistent.)
Mom took refuge in her library, the one room she could call her own. The boys? Well, they had thirty rooms to hide in.
Little boys who lived in the quiet Midwest of the 1950s were, of course, under constant attack by armed hordes and so forts had to be constructed everywhere. A ring of pillows in your bed. A blanket over a card table. and no matter where the fort went up, that outer wall was key - it separated Them from Us. Inside the wall you had sovereignty. A room to hide in and outlast any siege . . .
This is one of the better books I've read this year, and one roller coaster ride I'd recommend.
Here's one more good childhood memory I enjoyed:
In the winter, our front yard became a Currier & Ives print done by Quentin Tarantino. We created a vicious brand of snowball pressed to the density of croquet balls. Creating ordnance took fifteen minutes of packing and squeezing after which we misted them with water and put them in the freezer for an icy sheen. If a snowball could somehow be made in Hell, this was it. Parking one of these babies between the shoulder blades of a retreating brother was a satisfying experience and when one of us came into the house crying, within half an hour his parka was back on and he was out in the yard using his anger to squeeze a new snowball to the density of a diamond.
Ah, to be young again . . .
I hate the term "emotional roller coaster," but I can think of no better description for this book.
One minute I'm roaring at the antics of six brothers growing up during the fifties and sixties. Holy crap! I would not have survived these kids! My husband, who was once a part of a three-brother wrecking crew, was forced to listen to me read entire paragraphs featuring exploits of unimaginable destruction - fingernail polish used as paint to decorate hallway walls, innumerable items flushed, jugs of bleach poured into boxes of Tide, heirloom china used as stacking toys, and framed artwork assembled into forts. He shook his head, and I could tell he was thinking, "Why the hell didn't we think of that stuff?"
These descriptions of childhood are priceless, conjuring so many sights, smells, and fondly-remembered incidents from my own past.
Army Guy rules were fairly specific, one of which required you to produce a realistic machine gun noise.
If you were out in the open and you heard the ack-ack-ack, you were dead. Since losing was unacceptable, you made your peace with being killed by winning in the Best Death category. Nobody died as good as you. You flung yourself to the ground, overacting a death rattle that could be heard from the cheap seats . . . Your hands went to your stomach, your legs crumpled and then stillness.
Falling to the spongy green grass, that was death for us - your face to the Minnesota sky, the sunlight turning eyelid blood vessels into orange spider-webs. There you lay, certain your showy death had given a sort of murderer's remorse to your assailant, and you waited until the battle ended or Mom called you in for sandwiches. To us, that's all death was - a brief midsummer stillness and then a sandwich.
Now here comes the roller coaster part . . .
These idyllic scenes of a boyhood well-lived are frequently interrupted by an alcoholic and abusive father.
"WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO AROUND HERE? KNOCK SOME HEADS TOGETHER?"
Okay, most of our dads have probably said that at one time or another. But has your dad ever
"WELL, THEN I'LL JUST GO OUT TO THE TOOL SHED AND GET THE AXE AND SMASH THIS GODDAMNED DOOR IN! WHAT DO YOU THINK OF THAT?"
This was the
The real heart of this memoir is the boys' mother, a gentle woman who loved books and reading, and, somehow, her vitriolic, tormentor of a husband. Much of the book consists of her detailed and beautifully written letters to her beloved father. (This was one thing that irked me - her parents KNEW of the verbal AND physical abuse their daughter was enduring, and offered NOTHING other than words of encouragement. Then again, this was the fifties. Men were not alcoholics. They were tipsy "party boys," like Dean Martin. Domestic abuse? Nonexistent.)
Mom took refuge in her library, the one room she could call her own. The boys? Well, they had thirty rooms to hide in.
Little boys who lived in the quiet Midwest of the 1950s were, of course, under constant attack by armed hordes and so forts had to be constructed everywhere. A ring of pillows in your bed. A blanket over a card table. and no matter where the fort went up, that outer wall was key - it separated Them from Us. Inside the wall you had sovereignty. A room to hide in and outlast any siege . . .
This is one of the better books I've read this year, and one roller coaster ride I'd recommend.
Here's one more good childhood memory I enjoyed:
In the winter, our front yard became a Currier & Ives print done by Quentin Tarantino. We created a vicious brand of snowball pressed to the density of croquet balls. Creating ordnance took fifteen minutes of packing and squeezing after which we misted them with water and put them in the freezer for an icy sheen. If a snowball could somehow be made in Hell, this was it. Parking one of these babies between the shoulder blades of a retreating brother was a satisfying experience and when one of us came into the house crying, within half an hour his parka was back on and he was out in the yard using his anger to squeeze a new snowball to the density of a diamond.
Ah, to be young again . . .
June 5, 2011
It was hard to assign stars to this one.... I couldn't put it down, but it also made me very sad, so it seems odd to say I really liked it... but I did. The events in the book took place in my town, I know many of the people involved, I know the house well as it's current owners are good friends of ours and I certainly understand what it means to be part of the Mayo Clinic "family". This all left me feeling almost anxious about peering so deeply into windows of the Millstone, it felt a bit too much like snooping. The collected paper memories of a family of writers give a unique view into their shared reality!
January 21, 2013
I could use many words to describe this heartfelt memoir. Words like insightful, compassionate, heartbreaking but most of all it is a memoir about a family. A family that started out like all families, actually a little above socioeconomically, as the father is a respected neurosurgeon at the Mayo clinic. It shows how insidious the effects of drugs and alcohol are on a person and the whole family structure. How easily one become enslaved and how hard it is to throw the addiction off. Six boy, one mother, so many of these stories were delightful, humorous and ones I could definitely relate to having 5 boys myself. Their mother was a remarkable woman, in the fifties few options were open for a woman alone, and with six children even less. Yet she did the best she could, actually she coped remarkably well. That her sons love her is apparent as well. This is a brave, no holds barred, but not without many incidents of humor and love, told memoir about an ordinary family that had to deal with extraordinary circumstances.
October 7, 2012
THIRTY ROOMS TO HIDE IN by Luke Longstreet Sullivan
Luke Sullivan is one of six sons of Dr. Charles Roger Sullivan, who led the Mayo Clinic Orthopedic Surgery section in the 1950s and -60s. He chronicles the odyssey of his family as Dr. Sullivan descends slowly but surely into the nightmare of alcoholism, dragging his wife, Mary, and their children through the madness and horror. This is a brutally honest narrative of growing up in the insanity that develops around an alcoholic parent. The medical community's "knowledge" of alcoholism then was based on a lack of information, false assumptions and the societal paradigm wherein a husband and father had "most favored status" in family life, both legal and personal. Among most men of that era, there was a "club" mentality of protecting and covering for all members, accepting their excuses for bad behavior, favoring them in family disputes, discounting wives and other family members words, thus condoning the behavior and facilitating its continuance.
Luke Sullivan illustrates the love and humor in the lives of his siblings and parents, with descriptions of the hilarious antics of the brothers reminiscent of Jean Kerr's "Please Don't Eat the Daisies" as they do stupid, dangerous, creative, things in their thirty-room home and on the several acres surrounding it. He shows how each family member develops in the armed camp atmosphere of their dysfunctional family over the years and how the brothers both bond together and isolate while dealing with their father's alcoholism. Some activities were seriously dangerous (!) but they managed to survive their own childhood and become successful, well-adjusted adults.
The real hero was Mary Sullivan who learned to protect and raise her sons in as loving and healthy a way possible, despite the constantly deteriorating personal climate of their lives. A highly intelligent, erudite woman who maintained her sanity through a lifetime correspondence with her father, her only source of emotional support, Mary strove to protect her children from their father's verbal/emotional abuse, including taking all six and going to a motel to spend the night as Dr. Sullivan's drinking became more out of control.
Luke Sullivan is a true "insider" who not only did exhaustive research about how each person in the family felt and responded to the stress in their lives, but who writes as one who has learned pretty much everything known about the disease of alcoholism. He writes without bitterness or anger at the cards he and his family were dealt and paints a poignant picture of their struggles and triumphs, with honesty and love, including the description of his father as a brilliant, dedicated, driven man striving to improve knowledge in his field for the betterment of all, who suffered from a devastating disease that ruined his life and destroyed his relationships with family, friends and colleagues.
The story of this highly personal subject, without blaming or whining about the injustice of it all, is well-written and admirable. I highly recommend this book to anyone -- not just those whose lives have been touched or scarred by alcoholism. "Thirty Rooms to Hide In" is a testament to the strength of the human spirit to overcome adversity, quietly compelling and inspiring.
I thank the publisher for providing me a free copy in exchange for a review. I will post it on Amazon, B&N, Goodreads, LibraryThing and my blog at www.museofhellreviews.wordpress.com
Luke Sullivan is one of six sons of Dr. Charles Roger Sullivan, who led the Mayo Clinic Orthopedic Surgery section in the 1950s and -60s. He chronicles the odyssey of his family as Dr. Sullivan descends slowly but surely into the nightmare of alcoholism, dragging his wife, Mary, and their children through the madness and horror. This is a brutally honest narrative of growing up in the insanity that develops around an alcoholic parent. The medical community's "knowledge" of alcoholism then was based on a lack of information, false assumptions and the societal paradigm wherein a husband and father had "most favored status" in family life, both legal and personal. Among most men of that era, there was a "club" mentality of protecting and covering for all members, accepting their excuses for bad behavior, favoring them in family disputes, discounting wives and other family members words, thus condoning the behavior and facilitating its continuance.
Luke Sullivan illustrates the love and humor in the lives of his siblings and parents, with descriptions of the hilarious antics of the brothers reminiscent of Jean Kerr's "Please Don't Eat the Daisies" as they do stupid, dangerous, creative, things in their thirty-room home and on the several acres surrounding it. He shows how each family member develops in the armed camp atmosphere of their dysfunctional family over the years and how the brothers both bond together and isolate while dealing with their father's alcoholism. Some activities were seriously dangerous (!) but they managed to survive their own childhood and become successful, well-adjusted adults.
The real hero was Mary Sullivan who learned to protect and raise her sons in as loving and healthy a way possible, despite the constantly deteriorating personal climate of their lives. A highly intelligent, erudite woman who maintained her sanity through a lifetime correspondence with her father, her only source of emotional support, Mary strove to protect her children from their father's verbal/emotional abuse, including taking all six and going to a motel to spend the night as Dr. Sullivan's drinking became more out of control.
Luke Sullivan is a true "insider" who not only did exhaustive research about how each person in the family felt and responded to the stress in their lives, but who writes as one who has learned pretty much everything known about the disease of alcoholism. He writes without bitterness or anger at the cards he and his family were dealt and paints a poignant picture of their struggles and triumphs, with honesty and love, including the description of his father as a brilliant, dedicated, driven man striving to improve knowledge in his field for the betterment of all, who suffered from a devastating disease that ruined his life and destroyed his relationships with family, friends and colleagues.
The story of this highly personal subject, without blaming or whining about the injustice of it all, is well-written and admirable. I highly recommend this book to anyone -- not just those whose lives have been touched or scarred by alcoholism. "Thirty Rooms to Hide In" is a testament to the strength of the human spirit to overcome adversity, quietly compelling and inspiring.
I thank the publisher for providing me a free copy in exchange for a review. I will post it on Amazon, B&N, Goodreads, LibraryThing and my blog at www.museofhellreviews.wordpress.com
September 28, 2011
A refreshingly optimistic account of growing up in a family lorded over by an alcoholic father. Sure, there are the grim stories of threats, abuse and abandonment, but overall the message is that, under the guidance of a nurturing mother, this family of boys not only survived, but made the most of growing up in the 1960s. Three things helped them make it through relatively unscathed; mother, music, and - as boys - being blessed with a shortage of emotional dramatics over their hellish situation. Sure, dad's a drunk, but hey, look, the Beatles are on Ed Sullivan!!
October 8, 2021
This is the unforgettable story about a well-respected surgeon at the Mayo Clinic who was lucky to also be the husband of a beautiful and intellectual wife and the father of six rambunctious boys. Unfortunately, Dr. Roger Sullivan also battled dark demons and an addiction to alcohol which not only ruined his own life and career but the life of his wife and the childhood of six children.
Thirty Rooms to Hide In is, at times, hilarious and heart-warming and, at others, terrifying and depressing. I would laugh til my ribs hurt and then cry until I was emotionally exhausted and yet I couldn't put it down. If you read it, and I highly recommend that you do, you should read it in conjunction with reviewing his website, www . thirtyroomstohidein . com. There are family photos and copies of letters, audio of his brothers band and home videos.
Thirty Rooms to Hide In is, at times, hilarious and heart-warming and, at others, terrifying and depressing. I would laugh til my ribs hurt and then cry until I was emotionally exhausted and yet I couldn't put it down. If you read it, and I highly recommend that you do, you should read it in conjunction with reviewing his website, www . thirtyroomstohidein . com. There are family photos and copies of letters, audio of his brothers band and home videos.
January 18, 2023
Sullivan writes a heart-wrenching memoir of growing up in a family with an alcoholic father, who just happens to be an orthopedic surgeon at the Mayo Clinic. In the 1950's-1960's, alcoholism was not treated as a disease, and the therapy (and just plain help) available was very different than now. Myra was a professional wife, and part of her duties was to raise their six sons in a mansion on the edge of Rochester, Minnesota. Called the Millstone, the mansion is another character in the story of the family.
Intense and told from the viewpoint of one of the sons, the story is full of detail and anecdotes.
It is fascinating, humorous (yes, in a dark way, there is humor here), and riveting.
Read this book.
Intense and told from the viewpoint of one of the sons, the story is full of detail and anecdotes.
It is fascinating, humorous (yes, in a dark way, there is humor here), and riveting.
Read this book.
November 14, 2024
3.75 - always hard to rate a memoir. I really appreciated the humor of this author and clever way he put so many journals and memories together. Fun to read about local places and have an actual picture in my mind. Another great lesson in “things aren’t always what they seem”
February 24, 2013
Wow. Amazing. Luke Longstreet Sullivan has managed to tell an intimate story about his father's alcohol abuse and effect upon a young family with a sense of detachment, which makes the story even more amazing. I got a real, honest sense of the alcohol demon that can take hold of a person and turn lives upside down.
Longstreet Sullivan grew up the fifth of six boys in an enormous house called "Millstone" in the southern Minnesota town of Rochester, home of the famed Mayo Clinic. Longstreet Sullivan's father was a respected orthopedic surgeon at Mayo on one hand, and a beast to be feared at home on the other hand. Alcohol's grip firmly took hold of Dr. C. Roger Sullivan by the early 1960s and the family's descent into hell was in full swing by 1964. Dr. Sullivan only rarely became physical under the influence of alcohol--his weapon of choice was his words. His wife, Myra, was the main focus of his attacks. Since the story is told through the narrator's young eyes, readers see the abuse as a young child would remember it--in bits and pieces, not in full flashes. But those bits and pieces are terrifying enough: it's hard to imagine what life in this cold stone mansion really was like, especially for Myra.
The book starts out relatively tame. Readers are given insight into the early years at Millstone, before alcohol had completely consumed Dr. Sullivan. The stories in these early chapters revolve around the antics of six young boys. Here, Longstreet Sullivan writes with humor. These early chapters are amusing, but I was eager to delve deeper into the real story that is hinted about early on.
Once I reached about p. 100, I was well-rewarded. From here on out the story becomes more dramatic. There's real narrative tension going on. Myra reaches the end of her rope (after more than 10 years of abuse) by Christmas of 1964 and moves out of Millstone with the boys. But it's the 1960s: Dr. Sullivan is the breadwinner and Myra is entitled only to a small portion of his salary during the separation. After just a few months the separation is not economically feasible for her and she must move the family back to Millstone. I won't get into great detail from here, but suffice it to say there is a sense of hope even after this point. But can that hope last? Or is Dr. Sullivan too far gone in his disease? What kind of hope did alcoholics have in the 1960s, anyway, of recovery?
Longstreet Sullivan expertly pulls back the veil on a taboo topic. Alcoholism remains taboo to some extent today--imagine how secretive the disease was in the "Mad Men" 1960s era of the three-martini lunch, and how it had to be especially secretive if one was a Mayo surgeon.
Each chapter is prefaced by a photo, most from the author's personal collection. Taken as a whole, one can see the effects of alcohol upon both Dr. Sullivan and his wife. The early photos shows a dashing couple, both dark-haired and handsome, full of life and promise. What would the flush years of post-WWII America hold for them? The American Dream was in their hands. Instead, they walked into a nightmare. By the end of the book, the photos are haunting. Both Dr. Sullivan and Myra have the lines of worry and tension etched on their faces. And in photos of the six boys, you can see the sadness and darkness in their eyes.
I was crying by the end of the book. I wanted so much more for Myra. Even as she puts it, she was robbed of a marriage and herself felt wistful and not having had that like so many couples did. I wanted her to get out, to save herself and her sons, but Longstreet Sullivan does a good job of showing why that action was not so simple for a woman in the 1960s, and is not simple even today.
But the book never becomes sentimental or maudlin. It reads much like a journalistic investigation, that Longstreet Sullivan is looking upon the boy he once was, but probably feels like that young boy was someone else. The hurt is still there, and he doesn't want to get too close. But yet the detachment is not too much. It's a perfect balance of personal and observational and never drifts into overbearing territory. The reader is not told how to feel. You would have to be inhuman, though, to not feel anything while reading this memoir.
Longstreet Sullivan grew up the fifth of six boys in an enormous house called "Millstone" in the southern Minnesota town of Rochester, home of the famed Mayo Clinic. Longstreet Sullivan's father was a respected orthopedic surgeon at Mayo on one hand, and a beast to be feared at home on the other hand. Alcohol's grip firmly took hold of Dr. C. Roger Sullivan by the early 1960s and the family's descent into hell was in full swing by 1964. Dr. Sullivan only rarely became physical under the influence of alcohol--his weapon of choice was his words. His wife, Myra, was the main focus of his attacks. Since the story is told through the narrator's young eyes, readers see the abuse as a young child would remember it--in bits and pieces, not in full flashes. But those bits and pieces are terrifying enough: it's hard to imagine what life in this cold stone mansion really was like, especially for Myra.
The book starts out relatively tame. Readers are given insight into the early years at Millstone, before alcohol had completely consumed Dr. Sullivan. The stories in these early chapters revolve around the antics of six young boys. Here, Longstreet Sullivan writes with humor. These early chapters are amusing, but I was eager to delve deeper into the real story that is hinted about early on.
Once I reached about p. 100, I was well-rewarded. From here on out the story becomes more dramatic. There's real narrative tension going on. Myra reaches the end of her rope (after more than 10 years of abuse) by Christmas of 1964 and moves out of Millstone with the boys. But it's the 1960s: Dr. Sullivan is the breadwinner and Myra is entitled only to a small portion of his salary during the separation. After just a few months the separation is not economically feasible for her and she must move the family back to Millstone. I won't get into great detail from here, but suffice it to say there is a sense of hope even after this point. But can that hope last? Or is Dr. Sullivan too far gone in his disease? What kind of hope did alcoholics have in the 1960s, anyway, of recovery?
Longstreet Sullivan expertly pulls back the veil on a taboo topic. Alcoholism remains taboo to some extent today--imagine how secretive the disease was in the "Mad Men" 1960s era of the three-martini lunch, and how it had to be especially secretive if one was a Mayo surgeon.
Each chapter is prefaced by a photo, most from the author's personal collection. Taken as a whole, one can see the effects of alcohol upon both Dr. Sullivan and his wife. The early photos shows a dashing couple, both dark-haired and handsome, full of life and promise. What would the flush years of post-WWII America hold for them? The American Dream was in their hands. Instead, they walked into a nightmare. By the end of the book, the photos are haunting. Both Dr. Sullivan and Myra have the lines of worry and tension etched on their faces. And in photos of the six boys, you can see the sadness and darkness in their eyes.
I was crying by the end of the book. I wanted so much more for Myra. Even as she puts it, she was robbed of a marriage and herself felt wistful and not having had that like so many couples did. I wanted her to get out, to save herself and her sons, but Longstreet Sullivan does a good job of showing why that action was not so simple for a woman in the 1960s, and is not simple even today.
But the book never becomes sentimental or maudlin. It reads much like a journalistic investigation, that Longstreet Sullivan is looking upon the boy he once was, but probably feels like that young boy was someone else. The hurt is still there, and he doesn't want to get too close. But yet the detachment is not too much. It's a perfect balance of personal and observational and never drifts into overbearing territory. The reader is not told how to feel. You would have to be inhuman, though, to not feel anything while reading this memoir.
June 21, 2014
Sometimes a book comes along at the right time in your life. I saw a review of this on Goodreads and was pulled in both by the review and by the title's reference to the Mayo Clinic where I had surgery this past winter. Since it wasn't a new release I figured I could get it from my local library. Alas, no, but I was able to get a copy through interlibrary loan. By the time I got around to picking it up, I had less than a week to read it before it was due back so it came to the top of my TBR.
The story is a memoir about a family torn apart by the father's alcoholism. He also happens to be a distinguished orthopedic surgeon at the Mayo Clinic, which just proves that no mind is too great to waste. Coincidentally, this book came to me at a time when one of my best friends just checked her husband into rehab so I read it watchfully for clues that I might be able to help her. Having no first hand experience of alcoholism in my own life, I find it to be a very mysterious disease. Time and again, alcoholics will sober up, strike the right path, and relapse. Why when they see the havoc it wreaks? Sullivan provides some insight but not enough to truly understand. He paints the alcoholic as emotionally bereft, a person who only feels "normal" when he/she drinks and totally selfish. I raced through this book to it's inevitable conclusion, although the final page was something of a shocker. Would love to discuss this book with others who have read it.
The story is a memoir about a family torn apart by the father's alcoholism. He also happens to be a distinguished orthopedic surgeon at the Mayo Clinic, which just proves that no mind is too great to waste. Coincidentally, this book came to me at a time when one of my best friends just checked her husband into rehab so I read it watchfully for clues that I might be able to help her. Having no first hand experience of alcoholism in my own life, I find it to be a very mysterious disease. Time and again, alcoholics will sober up, strike the right path, and relapse. Why when they see the havoc it wreaks? Sullivan provides some insight but not enough to truly understand. He paints the alcoholic as emotionally bereft, a person who only feels "normal" when he/she drinks and totally selfish. I raced through this book to it's inevitable conclusion, although the final page was something of a shocker. Would love to discuss this book with others who have read it.
April 5, 2014
Have you ever been at a friend's or spouse's family reunion, and people sit around reminiscing about the good ole' days? Yes, the stories are amusing, but the storytellers and characters in the stories are more entertained than newcomers. That's how I felt reading this book. It was kind of funny, but maybe not exactly worth the time I invested.
I may have liked the book more if it had been properly titled and marketed. It wasn't what I expected. This is a memoir about six imaginative and rambunctious brothers. Their mother is a saint, and their father is a full-blown alcoholic who is often missing. There is no insanity, very little rock 'n' roll, and no connection to "The Shining". If I had to compare it to a book, I would say it's trying to be "Let's Pretend This Never Happened" by Jennifer Lawson, except it's not NEARLY as clever.
What I did find interesting is the cultural description of the 50's, especially how alcoholism hadn't been defined as a disease. I also enjoyed the photos and thought they added a lot to the stories. So there's that.
I may have liked the book more if it had been properly titled and marketed. It wasn't what I expected. This is a memoir about six imaginative and rambunctious brothers. Their mother is a saint, and their father is a full-blown alcoholic who is often missing. There is no insanity, very little rock 'n' roll, and no connection to "The Shining". If I had to compare it to a book, I would say it's trying to be "Let's Pretend This Never Happened" by Jennifer Lawson, except it's not NEARLY as clever.
What I did find interesting is the cultural description of the 50's, especially how alcoholism hadn't been defined as a disease. I also enjoyed the photos and thought they added a lot to the stories. So there's that.
May 18, 2020
What I thought was so wild about this book was that I purchased it in the gift shop at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester when I was a patient there. However, I did not read it until 5 years after my final appointment and my treatment had been concluded. The book itself is about a doctor that was more or less disgraced from the very same hospital, so when I got around to reading it my biggest question was why it was sold at the hospital! With my education in psychology I found it fascinating, and it was easy to connect to if you have anyone in your life who is an alcoholic or has any mental health diagnosis. With the book written from the perspective of a child at the time of his father's decline, it's a very open eye into the life of the family.
April 8, 2013
I enjoyed this book very much. The website is also amazing with bonus photos not shown in the book. I have wondered after reading if the author had not put in the years of research and time dedicated to writing his family's story, it probably would have forever fallen into the depths of forgotten history. Kudos to Mr. Sullivan, his brothers, and his mother, Myra, for their courage to tell the truth about their own lives for our benefit and pleasure. Love it!
August 23, 2011
Great book about survival in a dysfunctional family due to severe alcoholism. I liked it because it was a true story based on the diaries of the boys in the family plus interviews with them as adults. Also, the author had a very sarcastic and funny way of describing things in the midst of the insanity.
November 21, 2016
This was a sad, funny, insightful story of survival by an entire family. Currently living in Rochester, MN and really found it interesting as I could 'see' the landmarks in the tale as it unfolded. It was a bit jumpy and meandering but as a true tale this is to be expected. Still amazed the family survived, even though some scars along the way as to be expected from this ordeal!
Want to read
October 21, 2011I don't really care for non-fiction memoirs, but this book was recommended by a friend. It's started off pretty decent and the chapters are short so it'll be a good one to bring with to work to read on breaks.
Update some months later after starting.....just couldn't do it. Sorry Sullivan.
Update some months later after starting.....just couldn't do it. Sorry Sullivan.
May 13, 2025
Interesting way to put together a memoir with including family photos, journal entries, letters and interviews.
January 29, 2019
This book is a memoir about a father whose drinking and mental illness led to his terrorizing his family, but it’s also a memoir of a time, specifically the late 50’s and early 60’s. In this era, the father Roger took a job at the Mayo Clinic and moved his family (his wife Myra and their 6 boys) into a mansion he called Millstone, where the boys lived rambunctious, energetic years waging imaginary wars against each other, getting a TV set, building a bomb shelter, playing pranks, setting fires, and literally climbing the walls of the house. They also lived through the deterioration of their father and sustained verbal and physical abuse until his accidental death in 1966. It’s a testimony to Myra, who because of the time could not truly leave/escape and instead stayed, sustaining abuse and protecting her family as she did. There were moments of hope—a period in a hospital to try and dry Roger out—but the medical knowledge of alcoholism and its treatment at that time led to dashed hope. It’s more of a multi-genre book than a traditional memoir, filled with photographs, excerpts from letters and diaries, and links to videos and songs accessible on the book’s website. This disjointed narrative moved forward at times in a herky-jerky manner, but to be honest that more than likely reflects the disjointed nature of their lives at the time. A compelling read.
November 25, 2018
This isn't a book I normally would choose to read! I was up at my daughter's home in Rochester, Minnesota! It was lying on her dining room table. As an avid reader, of course I picked it up to check out what she had her nose in. She wasn't home and I hadn't anything else to do. She is a Nurse Practitioner at Mayo and just entered her 20th year there.
When I had read the first pages, I knew I would have to read it and downloaded it on my kindle. I read it in three days. Page turner!
Yet, as I finished, I put it down in sorrow for Luke's family! So much emotion! Yet, I appreciate it that Luke was so attuned to his emotions and had the capability to put his sorrow and anger and disappointments of an anquished childhood that he shared with his mom and five brothers. I, too, witnessed the pain wrought by a relative that was an alcoholic that destroyed a family. That man, too, died an early death. Every chapter I finished, brought back the sorrow and anquish I felt for a sister and her daughters. I felt the loss and pain of a charismatic man who lost his way in life due to alcoholism. Drugs and alcohol! The destruction lasts a person's lifetime! Regrets....so many what ifs!!!! But we can't go back and change any of it!
Patricia LaDuke
When I had read the first pages, I knew I would have to read it and downloaded it on my kindle. I read it in three days. Page turner!
Yet, as I finished, I put it down in sorrow for Luke's family! So much emotion! Yet, I appreciate it that Luke was so attuned to his emotions and had the capability to put his sorrow and anger and disappointments of an anquished childhood that he shared with his mom and five brothers. I, too, witnessed the pain wrought by a relative that was an alcoholic that destroyed a family. That man, too, died an early death. Every chapter I finished, brought back the sorrow and anquish I felt for a sister and her daughters. I felt the loss and pain of a charismatic man who lost his way in life due to alcoholism. Drugs and alcohol! The destruction lasts a person's lifetime! Regrets....so many what ifs!!!! But we can't go back and change any of it!
Patricia LaDuke
February 29, 2020
Thirty Rooms to Hide In by Luke Sullivan is likely the best memoir I have ever read. While normally I'm skeptical about people remembering childhood memories in such vivid detail, Sullivan writes about growing up with his five brothers and an alcoholic father who also happened to be an orthopedist at the Mayo Clinic in astonishing and credible ways. Drawing on letters from his mother's 30-year correspondence with her literary father, the boys' own personal diaries and even videos on www.thirtyroomstohidein.com, Sullivan gives a harrowing and brutally honest account of what the disease of alcoholism does to a family. The plight of the family reminded me of a quote by G.K. Chesterson - it is not from the memoir but something I came across recently: Drink because you are happy, but never because you are miserable. Never drink when you are wretched without it, or you will be like the grey-faced gin-drinker in the slum; but drink when you would be happy without it, and you will be like the laughing peasant of Italy...Drink because you do not need it, for this is...the ancient health of the world.
March 24, 2018
Being a nurse, we (nurses) tend to have a dark sense of humor, probably from having to deal with life/death situations, so the writing style immediately resonated with me. The author, because of having to deal with scary family situations at a very young age, brilliantly verbalizes varying scenarios of family dysfunction and how they as siblings viewed what transpired, leaving the reader in awe of the fact that this kind of behavior was accepted/tolerated by an institution as acclaimed as the Mayo Clinic. I applaud the author for speaking the truth of a dark subject. This book shows how psychosis and addiction afflict all socioeconomic groups. Just because you have means to make a good living, doesn't mean that you are immune to the ravages of drugs /alcohol, or can escape anxiety/depression. Being raised in southeastern Minnesota and currently a Mayo employee, this book was entertaining, historical, and eye-opening, making you appreciate the fact that no one should ever have to endure what the Sullivan family had to endure.
June 2, 2021
This is a different kind of review because my interpretations are influenced by previously knowing Luke as a much-beloved professor. It hurt to see what he went through and it's unbelievable that he turned out to be such a wonderful, caring man. No doubt due to the tight-knit nature of his relationships with his mother and brothers depicted in great length. My favorite portions were his glimpses into childhood. Being born some 3o years after the 60s, I actually felt like I knew what it was like growing up then. It was almost escapist in nature. He captured the mood of time periods well. And of course, he has a way of telling stories in the most entertaining way. The grittier portions were emotionally hard to read but made up in their depth. I admit I don't believe I've heard alcohol abuse depicted in this way. Although, like another reviewer, I know alcoholism isn't relegated to class, it was jarring to see it spelled out nonetheless. You feel the pain and conflict of those little boys and their helpless mother in that unrelenting era and you wish them better.
March 17, 2017
I never would have read this book if it wasn't a book club read. It's a memoir and I usually stay away from them. This is a story that wraps itself around growing up in the 50's and 60's when I did so maybe that's why I liked it. It is a tough subject matter, though. Alcoholism within the family of a doctor at the Mayo Clinic and how they all dealt with it. Brutal at times. The writing is good and the inclusion of the backup material, like death certificates, diaries and letters, drags the reader into this highly dysfunctional family. Luke Sullivan had a tough childhood but his reflections back on it includes enough humor to make the reader comfortable reading it. If you know an alcoholic, you might want to read it. I know I have a better understanding of the disease.
November 11, 2017
The author, his five brothers, and his mother were terrorized by his alcoholic father, a Mayo Clinic physician, in their large Rochester, MN home in the late 1950s and early 1960s. Resources to deal with his father’s addiction and associated mental health problems were inadequate. There was no system of protection for the family against the abuse. When his stay-at-home mother attempted to extricate herself and her six children from the tyranny, they encountered a legal system that was designed to preclude financial support by their tormenter. In spite of the many challenges this close-knit family faced, they did not allow their difficult situation to destroy them and instead shared many happy experiences. Societal, family, and gender issues of the time are realistically portrayed.
March 20, 2020
This is a hard book to describe. There's great pathos within it, but that's tempered by humor. This is a story of six kids growing up in the frightening shadows of a drunken and abusive father. Their mother, due to the times they lived in, was forced to pretty much put up with his shit because divorcing him would've left her and their kids in financial hardship. At times it was hard to read because Sullivan isn't afraid to share the nitty gritty details of his father's abuse. But he tries to temper it with humor. He reveals his life in small sketches that are backed up by the reminisces of his brothers and his mother, along with those of family friends. It was also an interesting look at growing up in the 1960s in Minnesota and I'm always a sucker for a good coming-of-age story.
July 13, 2020
Solid 4+ stars. I couldn’t put it down once I started and read it in 2 days. Both funny and sad..it’s written by one of 6 sons of a prominent surgeon who suffered from addiction. The ‘fun’ comes from the antics of the 6 boys doing crazy things as young kids. The sad? Ten years of their lives were spent hiding from their abusive dad. Even more sad was how their mom’s life was impacted..
It takes place in the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s, so the addiction treatment treated the chemical dependency, but offered no help to the mental/spiritual side..
True story. Journal entries help tell the story. Plenty of photos of the family as well.
It takes place in the 40’s, 50’s and 60’s, so the addiction treatment treated the chemical dependency, but offered no help to the mental/spiritual side..
True story. Journal entries help tell the story. Plenty of photos of the family as well.
August 3, 2022
I worked at the Mayo Clinic 30 years and never heard of this. I did recognize a few of the doctors and places in Rochester. A tale of how alcohol ruined a family, career and marriage. Treatment at the time being ineffective at least for Dr Sullivan. Modern therapy holds an individual accountable for their behavior. I personally have seen drugs and alcohol impact personal growth and development regardless of social status or wealth. Amusing tales of brothers growing up and their exploits fit in between the sadness. I enjoyed some different views of Rochester and Mayo Clinic.
January 30, 2021
The book caught my attention for having local connections to Rochester, MN and the Mayo Clinic. I hope there was some healing for the author and his family in the writing of this memoir. (and that poor mother...six boys! - but really, times were so different for women then; I was so touched by the author's writing of, "And then it occurred to me, forty years too late, that no one had saved her. No one had saved her.")
August 30, 2022
I did not expect to like this book as much as I did. I tend to read mostly fiction where the grace of the writing or a particular turn of phrase makes me put the book down and reflect. To my surprise, this book reads like a fiction writer's fictional memoir. It did indeed cause me moments of reflection on the poetry of some passages. It is a warm, witty, compelling, scary, funny, narrative of one family's dealings with abusive alcoholism. A very good read.
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