We said we’d get together soon when Flip Phillips and I last saw each other about a year ago.
Tomorrow I’ll go to his funeral.
Flip was 49 when he lost a short battle with cancer.
He was as tall and strong and vivacious as ever at our chance meeting at Gander Mountain. It was our first face-to-face in several years though it carried as much comfort as if we’d seen each other often.
Flip Phillips had a way of enjoying life and making sure those afield with him did, too. Phillips, 49, died last week from cancer.
Flip first asked about my kids, with detailed questions about each. He talked long and passionate about his wife, Lana, when I asked “what’s new?”
Half-way through the half-hour conversation we began talking about hunting, which is what brought us together.
There were a few years when we’d shared quite a bit of time awaiting ducks and geese on his places and chasing turkeys and sharp-tailed grouse on some of mine.
For no real reason contact had been considerably less the past five years. No matter, it was still easy to consider Flip a good friend.
Some people are considered friends because of the quantity of time we spend with them. Others are cherished because of the quality of time, no matter how infrequent, that’s shared.
Flip was certainly the latter. I doubt I ever needed an alarm to awaken me mornings we met for hunts. There was no doubt something special was coming that day.
He was amazingly gracious and generous, especially when kids were along.
I remember Flip patiently helping Jerrod as they worked towards my son’s first limit of ducks. Flip piled layers of his own coats and jackets on Lindsey as she shivered on a goose hunt.
We laughed hard and often on most hunts. His enthusiasm was amazing.
Flip, as they say, always “got his money’s worth out of life.”
He went often, stayed late and had great skills on everything from fly-fishing for trout to teal, trophy whitetails to long-bearded turkeys. The guy had so many friends I’ve run into them in all parts of Kansas and several other states.
I guess that gives us a little solace for Flip’s passing at such a relatively young age.
In his years he enjoyed more and provided more enjoyment than any sportsman, of any age, I’ve ever met.
I was certainly fortunate to have been on the receiving end of his friendship.
Until we get together again, Flip.
Thanks.
