Remembering
My Dear Little Brother

Philip

Phil enjoyed a good laugh.  He particularly enjoyed Laurel & Hardy.  So when I’m asked, “What did your brother die of?” I can honestly guarantee he wouldn’t mind me saying, “He died of a Sunday”.

As youngsters we shared rooms until I left home at the age of 17, so I know that things for Phil were always tough, a constant battle to achieve.  He was diagnosed dyslexic before many people even knew that the condition existed.  In the 1960's it was practically unheard of.

Phil wasn’t a quitter.  He did his absolute best to beat the odds stacked against him.

I remember him chasing me down the road angrily for some long forgotten, but no doubt unforgivable transgression.  Yet when I joined the air force he made his own way to Doncaster just to see me, even though he’d been in some terrible altercation resulting in a bandaged head!

I also remember a time when we’d taken our bikes up to Chasewater.  On the way back he was involved in an accident, which sent him flying up into the air like a missile.  I vividly recall thinking there and then that it was curtains for him.  But no, he’d landed fair and square on his head, so of course he felt few ill effects apart from shock. Indeed he refused to go in the ambulance, and when offered a cup of sweet tea I knew he was okay when he replied, “I don’t like tea”!

So it was tragic when in his later years he started to have medical problems that saw him largely debilitated.  I knew he was a fighter and doing his level best to bring up, with Tina’s help, four great kids.  And anyway, he enjoyed riding his various bikes, trikes and driving in general, and was disappointed as that became more difficult for him over the years.

And it’s equally tragic that while he met his first grand daughter (KC Jane, pictured above together), she will never get to know him.  And he will not see his daughter’s wedding.  He wasn’t be there to give Jane away.  All his children, like me, will no doubt miss his input as their lives become more complicated as young adults.

Because he knew his way around the difficulties he suffered, he was always the first person I called for advice and consolation.  I have no one now to call if my car breaks down.  I’ve no one who will hitchhike several hundred miles in the middle of a cold wet night to drive my car because I’ve been blinded.  No one to bounce my ridiculously stupid ideas off.

I miss my little brother.  He was a great friend and brother to me.  Cheers Phil.

Philip Leonard Richard Anthony died in the early hours of Sunday, 17th June 2007 (Father's Day) following several years of ill health, from a heart attack.  He was just 50 & 2 days.  He was laid to rest on Thursday 28th June.  His wife, Tina and children, Mother Ellen, his siblings, and indeed all his family and many friends miss him dearly.  Ironically, the iconic family man who tried his level best to keep our entire family together.

One thing that really surprised us was how cheap and efficient local transport is (or at least was) in Denver.  We did almost all of our traveling around Denver, The Garden of the Gods, Boulder, Golden & Nederlands using the local bus.  It was 70c to get into Denver, then just $3 to go anywhere from there.  On the return journey it usually cost just $3 to get all the way back home, which was just 2 short blocks from the bus stop.

I dedicate this gallery of photographs to him.  I have more buried in cupboards somewhere, and when I find them I will post the best of them.