Algonquin Round Table History,News Frank Sullivan of Saratoga Springs

Frank Sullivan of Saratoga Springs

Frank Sullivan Place

Frank Sullivan Home, Saratoga Springs

Frank Sullivan Home, Saratoga Springs


After the demise of the New York World in 1931, Algonquin Round Table member Frank Sullivan moved home to Saratoga Springs and became the ultimate freelancer. In a small clapboard house shared with his sister at 135 Lincoln Avenue, he turned out marvelous humor pieces for the rest of his career. “Once I visited New York for twenty years but I wouldn’t live there if you gave me Philadelphia,” he wrote. “A small town is the place to live. I live in a small town 180 miles from New York and while I would not say it has New York beat by a mile I would put the distance at six furlongs.”

Over the years, New Yorkers such as Harold Ross and Marc Connelly visited Sullivan, who took them to the racetrack, two blocks from his house, which treated him like royalty. He picked up the nickname “The Sage of Saratoga” and worked until his early eighties. He wrote for The New Yorker for fifty years as well as the Times sports section, the Saturday Evening Post, and Town & Country, his work collected in half a dozen books.

Sullivan suffered a series of falls in his home, and his health deteriorated. He died in Saratoga Hospital on February 19, 1976, at age 83. He is buried in the family plot St. Peter’s Cemetery in Saratoga Springs.

Frank Sullivan Place

Frank Sullivan Place

Today he is immortalized with a street sign nearby the racetrack, Frank Sullivan Place. His house was named a literary landmark, and is privately owned.

Adapted from The Algonquin Round Table New York, A Historical Guide (Globe Pequot Press) available here.

Related Post

The Years With Ross

The Years With Ross by Thurber Gets A RebootThe Years With Ross by Thurber Gets A Reboot

The Years With Ross

The Years With Ross

James Thurber was not a founding member of The New Yorker, he joined about one year after the first issue rolled off the presses in February 1925. He was hired by cofounder Harold Ross because Thurber had newspaper experience, which counted more than a college degree to the ink-stained Ross. The two worked closely for the next several years and it was at the magazine that Thurber hit his stride as a writer. It was also while working for the magazine that he started publishing his cartoons, which made him equally famous.

The Years With Ross was the book of memoirs that Thurber wrote in the years after Ross died in December 1951. It is based on his memories (which a few insiders didn’t agree with). The book was a hit and continues to sell on the backlist of the successor to his original publisher. It also seems like every dozen years or so, sometimes more, a new edition comes out. If you tried to collect every edition and cover of The Years With Ross from 1959 to today, it would take up a small bookshelf. In 2001 Harper Perennial reissued the book with a new foreword by Adam Gopnik, the longtime writer for The New Yorker, who seems to get all the writing gigs when it concerns the magazine.

A new edition was brought out during the pandemic, in December 2020. It has a more colorful cover, using a stock news photo of Ross on the jacket. The photo is from the time Ross was in the public eye, testifying against public address announcements in Grand Central Terminal. It includes one of Thurber’s dogs.

The paperback still has 336 pages. It has stories about Charles Addams, Peter Arno, Robert Benchley, Ogden Nash, Dorothy Parker, and Alexander Woollcott. One thing it lacks is anything of value about Ross’ first wife, Jane Grant, who helped launch the magazine. She gets written out of any and all histories of The New Yorker, starting with this one. The book is a light read. It might also be useful if you plan to watch the upcoming Wes Anderson movie, The French Dispatch, which looks a lot like The New Yorker of the Harold Ross era.

Finally, a note to the HarperCollins art director. A cover blurb from the New York Herald Tribune is funny to see, since it has been defunct since 1966.

You can order the book here from Amazon, and the nine cents from Amazon will go to pay the hosting costs of this very website. More books about Round Table members are listed here.

Alexander Woollcott, 1938.

Classic Woollcott Letter Turns 85 Years OldClassic Woollcott Letter Turns 85 Years Old

One of the greatest keepers of correspondence of the Algonquin Round Table was the man who the group formed around, Alexander Woollcott. Of all 30 members of the Vicious Circle, only he had his letters posthumously published. One of his greatest hits, from November 10, 1934, turns 85 years old today.

It was written to lyricist and friend Ira Gershwin, among the biggest names in Broadway from the last century. Woollcott was close to him and his brother, George Gershwin. For whatever reason–lost to history today–Ira decided to use the word “disinterested” in the presence of the public and Woollcott. The electric chair that Woollcott wanted to put the Broadway star onto just leaps off the page. Among the others in the letter are Ben Hecht, the newspaperman-turned-playwright who co-wrote The Front Page with Woollcott’s pal, Charles MacArthur, and producer Jed Harris.

The letter in all its glory is presented here.

At the time Woollcott was a radio star on CBS, writing for The New Yorker, and spending months at his vacation home in Vermont on Lake Bomoseen.

There are many, many other Woollcott letters out there. One of these is a form letter he sent on behalf of a liquor company. It was an early form of product placement, disguised as a letter. The letter is written about from time to time by spirits and Americana writers.

Do YOU own any letters written by members of the Algonquin Round Table? That are not forgeries? Contact me and I’ll gladly look them over.

Heywood Broun

1939 Radio Broadcast with Broun, Perelman, Powell, Thurber1939 Radio Broadcast with Broun, Perelman, Powell, Thurber

Heywood Broun

Heywood Broun


Listen to the voices of some of the most popular New York authors of the 1930s, all with a tie to The New Yorker. The all-star radio cast includes Heywood Broun, S.J. Perelman, Dawn Powell, and James Thurber. The occasion was the radio game show Author! Author! which was broadcast in October 1939. In it, audience members sent in scenarios for stories. A radio acting team performed the pieces. Then the authors filled in the blanks for the ending of the story.

Listen here (free streaming, 29 minutes)

The show was broadcast on the Mutual Network and carried on WOR.

S.J. Perelman is the master of ceremonies for the episode. He ribs Heywood Broun, who at the time was working tirelessly for the Newspaper Guild. Also on the broadcast is John Chapman, drama critic for the New York Daily News from the 1930s-1950s. He was nicknamed “Old Frost Face” because he was so hard to read.

Powell is introduced as the author of The Happy Island (1938), and as a playwright. “She’s wearing the famous Powell Rubies at her throat,” Perelman says. “Isn’t there some famous legend attached to those gems, Miss Powell?” he asks. “The only thing attached to them right now, Mr. Perelman,” comes her quick reply, “Is a child mortgage put there by the Greenwich Savings Bank.”

James Thurber was about to publish Fables For Our Times of his New Yorker pieces, and had just returned from Los Angeles. “Well I think that Hollywood is the only place in the world.” Thurber says drily. “The only place in the world where you can make $5,000 a week and then borrow money to get back to New York on. The only other memorable thing is fact the air out there comes in cans from the Mojave Desert. In two grades, breathed and unbreathed.”

The show wraps up as the authors act out a scene in a college dean’s office with Broun playing a football coach, Thurber as the dean, and Powell as the head of the girls’ athletic squad.

It is bittersweet to listen to the broadcast, as Broun died just two months later.