A letter from a friend Phil made in London
March 19, 1975
Dear Mrs. Kendall,
It is impossible for me to express the shock and deep sorrow that Phil's many friends in London felt upon hearing of his tragic death in Amsterdam. We were all a bit apprehensive about not hearing from him, especially since he was such a dedicated writer. We just presumed he had made a lot of new friends and was just too busy having a good time. When we were informed of his death, we couldn't believe it; it was so horrible and so unfair. I know it can be of only small consolation to you, but we all developed a strong affection for your son. He had such an infectiously happy personality that anyone who met him couldn't help but like him.
I can assure you that Phil loved his family very much and spoke of you often and the wonderful times he'd shared with you. We have some conception of the pain and sadness you must feel and our heartfelt sympathies go out to you and all of Phil's friends who were fortunate to have known him longer than us. None of us will ever forget Phil and the happy times we were lucky enough to share with him.
As for Patrice Dubois, he is a guy, not a girl, who stayed in the same place as Phil and myself for several days. I never got to know him, but Phil struck up a friendship with him and kept in touch with him after Patrice left London. All I know about him was that he studied English at a school in Bournemouth. From what I saw of him, he appeared to be just a nice, average chap and I believe Phil stayed with him in Bournemouth when he traveled around southern England. I think the note Phil wrote refers to a phone call he was expecting from Patrice to make definite arrangements for the trip to Brussels. I think Phil was going to spend some time with him in Belgium, as he was returning home for New Year's, and that Phil then intended to go to Holland by himself.
The copy of the postcard you enclosed seems a bit curious to me. I can't explain why Phil would send you a postcard written while he had presumably just arrived in Belgium and then mailed from Amsterdam on January 13th when he had already spent eight days in Holland. I always thought Phil was a regular writer; he seemed to be forever writing cards or letters. The only way I can account for Phil's not writing is that he liked to write about something substantive and not about all the mundane events of traveling just in order to take up space.
You state that Phil went to a club called the Milky Way. I can assure you that this type of place wasn't Phil's scene at all. He had an insatiable curiosity about all facets of life and we went to all sorts of places, but if he went to a place like that, it would be more to observe than to participate. As a stranger to the city, he could hardly be expected to know the nature of such a place. I don't feel that Phil's views on drugs underwent any transformation during his stay here. We spent a lot of time talking together, and drugs was one of the topics we discussed. Phil was too mature and rational to believe that one could find happiness in such an artificial and dangerous way. He hadn't gone to all the bother and expense to come over 6,000 miles to lose himself in drugs, something he more readily could have become involved in at home. It's true that we probably drank too much, but we drank for the fun and companionship and not because of any problems. Phil knew when he'd had enough and I never saw him behaving stupid or doing anything foolhardy.
Despite the comparatively short time I knew Phil, I think I can honestly say I got to know him as well as anyone. We were both strangers here and shared a similar background and many common experiences. We talked frankly with one another about everything and if Phil had anything that was seriously bothering him, I'm sure he would have mentioned it to me, or one of his other friends. Even if he hadn't, I'm sure we knew him well enough to tell if he was disturbed or depressed. One of the reasons Phil was so well-liked, by even casual acquaintances, was because of his easygoing, open nature. I never saw him in a gloomy mood. When things got dull, Phil could always be relied upon to enliven everyone.
Phil always seemed to be able to keep himself amused. While in London, he visited all the art galleries, museums and historical points of interest. Being an English student, he was especially interested in things to do with literature, such as the homes of famous writers and Shakespeare's Will. He particularly enjoyed the theatre and frequently went to the library to reread a play and then went to see it live. He also spent time going to the cinema or to rock concerts. Sometimes all we did was go to a pub, play darts and chat with the locals or visit friends and listen to records.
I'm pretty sure Phil spent his 21st birthday in Bath and he told me he'd met some fellow travelers there and had a great time. Phil did have a girlfriend here in London whom he met at a club called the Marquee. I only met her once and that was at a party on Christmas Eve, and I can't recollect her name but it might have been Debby. I do remember she was quite pretty and had a lively personality. She and Phil seemed fond of one another. I remember him phoning her to say goodbye, telling her he would call in three weeks when he returned to London.
Phil appreciated the trouble and expense you went to in sending him his gear, especially his fur-lined leather jacket. Phil gave his jeans away to a poor, simple-minded chap who had taken a real fancy to them and Phil thought they were a bit flashy for his needs. I can't remember Phil ever having a camera here in England. I think he once mentioned leaving it with his uncle in Boston.
I'm sorry I can't provide you with any insight into what possibly could have happened to Phil. We knew him here much as you described him while he was at home. The last time I saw him was on Boxing Day night and he was in a buoyant, cheerful mood, looking forward to going abroad. Everyone I've spoken to who knew him seems to share this opinion and I can't conceive of how his emotional state could have altered so drastically in such a short period of time, if indeed it did.
I'm sorry I've taken so long to reply to your letters, but writing about Phil doesn't come easy. If I can be of any help to you or if you have any further questions, please don't hesitate to ask.
Yours sincerely,
G. Simpson
