81 is the number that stays with me. I came to his magazine pieces late, ordered through a Chicago import shop in the nineties, and read them on winter evenings here in Sheffield with the fire going. A craftsman's sentences, the kind you notice years after you first read them.
Their story
Terrence James "Terry" Sullivan was an American magazine writer who spent 42 years making a living from his stories. He wrote about style and spirits for GQ, about whisky for Whisky Advocate and many other publications, about the things that made him laugh in his back page "Sullivan's Travels" column…
Terrence James "Terry" Sullivan was an American magazine writer who spent 42 years making a living from his stories. He wrote about style and spirits for GQ, about whisky for Whisky Advocate and many other publications, about the things that made him laugh in his back page "Sullivan's Travels" column in Chicago Magazine, and about his city in the Chicago Tribune Sunday magazine. A longtime resident of Evanston, Illinois, he died on 13 October 2026 at the age of 81.
Sullivan was a native of Cicero, Illinois, and a graduate of St. Mel High School and Loyola University. He began his working life writing for local universities, including Loyola, DePaul and Columbia, producing in-house newsletters, catalogs and advertising copy, a period he later called "languishing in assorted universities." One day he put down a magazine story he was reading at work and decided he could write better than its author. Within three months he had quit his job and was working from a home office, "banging out little stories for America's editors, who thoughtfully sent me American money in return," as he recalled in his last Whisky Advocate column.
His work took him around the world in search of the perfect subject, though he was just as happy to find it in Chicago. He wrote the "Mixology" column in GQ long before mixology was a household word, and the writer Dan Dunn credited him with helping him break into spirits writing. Readers knew him for a clever turn of phrase, vivid descriptions of people, places and smells, and the perfectly timed word. If anyone asked what a word meant, his answer was "Look it up."
Sullivan's goodbye column for Whisky Advocate appeared in the Fall 2026 issue under the line "Hello, I must be going," a Groucho Marx phrase he had long wanted to borrow and had saved for the occasion. He kept writing, reading and telling stories until the end.
He was a voracious reader whose Evanston condominium was filled with books, and he always seemed to have the right bottle for the occasion, whether a Scotch, a rare Irish whiskey or a bourbon with a story of its own. He mixed a good cocktail and was especially fond of a martini.
Sullivan was married for 60 years to Monica, whom readers knew as "The Steadfast Monica." They had two sons, James and John. John, who was born with multiple disabilities, lived for decades at Misericordia Home on Chicago's North Side and died before his father. The Sullivans gave countless hours to Misericordia, including staffing the taco booth at its annual Family Fest.
He died following a long illness, surrounded by Monica, his son James, his daughter-in-law Kate and extended family. A visitation and memorial service were arranged for 26 October 2026 at St. John XXIII-St. Nicholas Church in Evanston, with donations invited to Misericordia.
Biography adapted from Evanston RoundTable obituary submitted by the family (21 October 2026).

Same, his essays travelled further than he probably knew.