Mooned

by Philip's youngest sister


I'm really enjoying reading all the memories of Philip and I've gotten to know him much better through everyone's stories. I was only nine when he died, and I have just a few memories of him that really stick out in my mind. Here are a couple.

One was the time I was in the kitchen, sitting at the table or 'nook' as we called it, and Philip came in the room. I don't remember how it started, but he was standing in the middle of the kitchen trying to get me to smile. I was determined not to. He did all sorts of silly things to break me, the usual funny faces, etc. When nothing worked (and I was really proud of that fact) he suddenly turned around, pulled down his pants and quickly mooned me! Well for a seven or eight year old (maybe younger, I don't recall) this was quite a shock. It took every bit of concentration I had not to burst out laughing. All I could do was roll my eyes, mouthing "oh god" or something like that. He left the room without a word as if to say, "So there."

Ditching Cab Drivers

A comment I made on a previous post about a story Philip told me about a wildly risky "ride-and-dash" from a cab triggered a memory Kevin had of a similar occurrence. Here is his story:

Ditching taxi drivers, hmmm? I remember at least one instance where Philip "rode and ran" in Bellingham. It occurred after a visit to a girl friend he was seeing during spring quarter 1973, toward the end of our first year at Western. I don't know the young woman's name. Phil never revealed it to Jerry or me. He only allowed that she lived alone in a studio at The Belvedere Apartments on Holly Street, just north of campus. We learned very little about her. In fact, I never knew how or where they met. She may have been a student at Western though I am not sure. In any case, she was a few years older than Phil. He liked that she was older and he spoke of her fondly with a kind of protective admiration that seemed mysterious to me then. I remember that she didn't insist that he take her out on dates and that he felt relief that he didn't have to go through that conventional ritual with her. They spent intense periods of time with one another. Sometimes he would disappear from our Humboldt Street house for a few days at a time. This was unusual because during that first year we almost never ventured outside of our close circle alone. He said that she was interested in literature and that they would talk, drink wine, and prepare meals together, among other things. Jerry and I began to refer to her as "Belvedere", so when Philip would return after a night or so away from home we would ask "how's Belvedere?" He never got worked up over our kidding. He even took to using our moniker for her whenever he would announce that he was going over to see Belvedere.

One rainy night he called a cab from Belvedere’s place to take him home. He told the driver to drop him off about a block from our Humboldt Street house and then ditched the cabbie before settling up. This was becoming a fairly common practice among students living off-campus in 1970's Bellingham. The cabbie wasn't having it and he didn't give up easy. Phil ran down the street but couldn't shake the guy so he tore through some side yards to the alley that ran behind our house. He was huffing and puffing when he got to our back porch. Oh, and he was laughing that manic thrilled but slightly scared laugh.

Kevin Curran

Phil and the Paramount Plastics Lighters

Kevin Curran recently emailed me:

"Gianni, I have two jpegs of the orange/amber plexi lighter that Phil was trying to sell by the car trunk during our B'ham days. I hope that you can post them to the site. I should probably write something about them but I am drawing a blank. Any ideas?"

He told me it is the only thing of Phil's aside from letters he still possesses. He sent along a couple of photos...

As it turns out, when I first met Phil, he was hawking these plastic lighters. . .he had literally cases of them. He would sell them to you for a buck (I think it was) and you could easily sell them again for $2.50 or $3. I bought a bunch from him, sold them, and then bought more. . .but I had saturated my market. No one I knew needed another Paramount Plastics lighter. Over the years, the couple dozen I had drifted away. And now, Kevin turns up with one he got from Phil. And it sounds like Phil was still trying to unload them at college four or five years later!

I'm sure the K sisters can fill in this part of the story--but I vaguely remember this. Phil's dad designed, or bought the design, for a lucite lighter. This was probably about 1968. Lucite was still a mysterious and kind of weird material. The lighters looked cool. . .you could see the entire works inside. I seem to recall, however, they weren't exactly stellar performers in the flamethrowing arena. They emitted a pretty anemic little flare of light, and since they had no chimney, the faintest riffle of a wind would blow it out. But they made up for all that in cool.

Unfortunately, I believe the lighter was a commercial flop (?), and lord knows how many were left in boxes or crates at Paramount Plastics. In any case, for a period of at least five years, I remember Phil having tons of these around. After I hadn't thought about them for thirty years, here they are once again. I wouldn't be surprised if someone in the family doesn't have a box or two squirreled away somewhere. . .

---o0o---

Remembering Phil Kendall
by Jann Placentia

I remember:

I accompanied Phil many times after school in the spring of our senior year in high school, when he’d play a few holes of golf. One time, he hit a great shot that we knew had landed close to the green. We both searched and searched around the green but could not find the ball. At last, we gave up and looked in the cup --- and there it was, a Hole in One!

Phil would often call me late at night, filled with excitement, (I had my own personal phone line, so didn’t have to worry about disturbing the household) and read me his latest wonderful metaphor or poem.

Phil loved “Night Gallery “, “The Twilight Zone” and “A Clockwork Orange” – some of his stories reflected that fascination with sort of a “film noir/sci fi” essence.

Phil had a cool green Mustang for which someone he knew offered to trade him a cute, little, bright red Austin Healy Sprite. We had such fun zipping around in that Sprite, wearing our matching white racing hats --- I know it might sound silly or ridiculous from the vantage point of maturity, but the sight of us in those matching hats was amusing!

My brother, Chris, decided to enter a “Smoker” at his jr high and asked Phil to be his coach --- what an ironic thing: Phil was not a fighter, (neither was my brother) he was the guy everyone liked.

Phil was a wonderful person….I’m so blessed to have known him so well…..I miss him.

The one and only prank I ever pulled on Phil (it was for his own good)
by Claudia

Philip was getting ready to go to a party – by going through our mom’s medicine cabinet! I was astounded and thought I’d teach him a lesson. My mom at one time had back problems and was taking Soma for the pain. I’m sure that’s what he was looking for.

I took an empty prescription bottle and filled it with saccharin pills. Back then they came in pill form. I gave them to Phil and told him that Mom said they made her feel really good. “Okay,
great.”

The next morning, he just shook his finger at me – with a slight smile on his face. Then he proceeded to describe the experience of having saccharin dissolve in his mouth. He didn’t get mad. In fact, I don’t remember him ever getting angry with anyone. Only himself.