His name came up today when I was hanging out with my friend Jasmine, who I've known since high school, and we also spoke about him the first time we were catching up when I first moved out here. Years before Barack Obama was sworn into office, everyone in town used to say Phil would be the first black president of the United States - and West Orange was not a small town. Everyone loved him. He had the biggest personality. He could make anyone feel comfortable and like you were his best friend. He always had a story to tell and a smile on his face.
When Jasmine and I speak of him, we do so with a sense of sadness and confusion. Phil drowned in the Tidal Basin in Washington, D.C. He yelled something to his friends before jumping in the water, though what those exact words were was never information released by the police. Anyone who knew Phil knew he was afraid of the water, so it never made any sense. Because the situation was so strange and untimely, and because everyone had such faith that Phil would be someone truly important some day, rumors that drugs or alcohol were involved spread, but nothing had even been proven, but Jasmine and I wanted to know if anything else had ever been revealed about what happened. She had been close with the family, and I, like everyone else from high school, had nothing but good memories of him. A classmate, one of his best friends, had created an online memorial for Phil (http://rememberingphil.blogspot.com), a place for family and friends to write what they were feeling and speak to one another about what had happened. I looked at the site right after it was created, but I had forgotten about it until Jasmine and I stumbled upon it this evening.
My most distinct memory was from 11th grade, when we had to act out a chapter from The Great Gatsby for an English class assignment. He was over my house, I think because we had to grab the camcorder so we could film this great work of art we were about to produce, and he immediately sat down at our piano, which no one in the family ever used anymore, and started playing. Then he had a full conversation with my parents. He charmed them like no other, and that wasn't even his goal. He was just being Phil. And I remember my dad saying, "He's a good kid. You should bring him around more often." And he was a good kid. He was a good friend to a lot of people.
But this memory wasn't in the "Remembering Phil" blog. I never posted anything, though I distinctly remember looking at the site and writing my thoughts down, and I could swear that I had posted something. What is there is a quote from my friend Kristine, a direct piece of an IM conversation we had after we found out that Phil had passed away. She wrote, "I was talking to Emily Krauser. She said this to me: 'My way of viewing death, personally, which I know is different for everyone, is that you never go before your time. So it sucks because he was only 20, but look at how many people he impacted. I really believe he did what he was supposed to do. And I think it’s the only way I can think about it – because then I know he did achieve something. And he did – he touched all of us.' It’s hard for me to think that Phil’s time was up, but it does help to think about how he touched us all. Reading everyone’s comments helps me realize this too." To this day, I don't know if that's what I really believe, the whole theory on someone's time being up. I think it's what I said then, and what I have said about others who have passed away since then, to make myself feel better. To give death, especially an untimely one, some meaning. The strangest part of all was that Jasmine had said that exact same thing, about believing that G-d has a plan for us and knows when to take us from this world before something bad can happen, just before we came upon the blog. It's different for her, as she's very spiritual. I don't really know what I am. I just know I have lots of thoughts on lots of things and lots of worries and lots of feelings on top of those lots of thoughts. And I want to believe what Jasmine believes and what I've said in the past, I really do, but at the same time, I have a lot of trouble with the idea.
What we both do believe though is that someone can have a presence in your life. She asked if I ever gave the distinct feeling that someone was watching me or in the room with me, and I actually woke up feeling that way yesterday morning; in fact, I shot straight up out of bed with that exact feeling. I knew who it was then, but like a dream, the fleeting realization was gone by breakfast. But as we discussed Phil, as we tried to figure out if anyone knew anything more than what had been written about or said seven years ago, we both felt like, somewhere, he was watching. A lot of people loved Phil, and he probably has a lot more important people to watch than the two of us (or at least more entertaining people), but I can't really shake that feeling. I'd bet that Jasmine can't either. I don't know what it means, but it is rather reassuring to think that things do happen for a reason (that is one concept I've always believed in with no doubt at all) and that maybe there was a reason we spent so much time thinking about Phil tonight. And maybe, just maybe, there's a reason we spend so much time thinking about everyone in our lives, whether they're with us or not.
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ReplyDeleteIm friends with one of Phil's cousin....Every time I thought about this story, it always filled me with uneasiness, like there was more to the story of what happened that night....But regardless, I thought that was a really well-written blog, and I'll be sharing it with his family
ReplyDeleteWow, I can't believe I just came across your post... Phil was one of my best friends, and the shock of his loss was so profound. I felt that he had so much work to do here, and that his presence was so full and rich. There was always something other-worldly about him. He was incredible, and I think there was a lot he shared as well as a lot that he kept to himself. There was a lot I've wanted to tell him.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad I found your post.
I was an acquaintance of his at GW. I'll never forget the last time I saw him, he had a huge smile on his face and said he was happy to see me because we hadn't seen each other in a while. I was running late to a meeting and told him we needed to catch up soon. That was about two weeks before he died.
ReplyDeleteThe night he died I couldn't sleep at all. I stayed up and watched a horror movie that made my insomnia even worse. I logged onto my computer and the first screen that came up was the Hatchet, GW's student newspaper. They showed a body covered with a white blanket and a pair of sneakers sticking out. It said a student had drowned. I broke out crying because I knew it had to be someone I knew. I didn't know who, but I felt it in my heart that it was someone.
When his mom came to pick up his items, I saw her get out of a car and she looked right at me. Her eyes were red and immensely sad. I froze. I didn't know what to say. To this day I'm so angry at saying nothing. If she reads this, please know I pray for her often. I think about Phil often. I hope she is at a comforting level of peace in life. I can't imagine the pain she must have felt then and continues to feel. Phil is someone I can never forget. Rest in peace buddy.