To Slim, I was PF, the counter opposite in stature by name, but sheer childlike sarcasm concerning the reality of my rail thin (back then) build.
Of the 7 uncles in my family, PHIL was still like the uncle I never had.
When I was a tiny child, his big kid antics would often be the only surefire way of lifting my spirits when the chips were down. OH MY! The characters he instantaneously created with a bow tie! The only one he said he'd ever touch, as he joined his bud Bob, who was walking down the isle. Into my teens, I was in awe of his Rubik's Cube mind - how it spit out a new clever name on the fly for everyone one he met, AND remembered to whom each one belonged to as the decades passed.

It got to be that just Slim's unanamously mischievous smile would melt my pains and start me giggling. Laughter ~ still the best medicine, and he knew this better than an anybody, as far as I'm concerned. Into my adult years I felt honored with each Matchbox truck I contributed that made it to his wall. Thrilled at the thought that I may've paid him back at least that many smiles. Not that he was seeking pay, mind you.

Whenever I felt like being a cherished niece again, all it would take was to be in Slim's presence. His sublime character remained the same throughout the decades.

He was a tremendous teacher. He helped prepare me for life's mountains. He taught me how to look Serious in the eye, and survive. He assured me of what was humor, and warned me about what was mean; he taught me the True difference. And, simply by his nature, he provided thousands of examples of how to MAKE a difference - a positive one. He was a major inspiration TO strive harder to make those differences. He kept my spirit afloat when it may've otherwise sunk. And that was all before the tween years. He continued his innate caring ways through his natural humor come the 70's, 80', 90's and for as long as his physicality would even remotely allow, through that twinkle in his eyes long after he lost his speech.

As I aged into middle years, I began to thank him for his savior-like role in my life. So many times he was the only adult my child could relate to, or cared to relate to me. But, he wouldn't hear of it - no thanks necessary, as though it was the job he was born to do, to raise, and keep others' spirits afloat. And, perhaps it was. None-the-less, he carried on with it as if it were his number one priorty.

On one hand, my heart rests heavy for the world's loss. On the other, there's tremondous relief for him - that he has finally reached the end of a crippling disease that didn't kill his spirit, but eventually kept him from being able to share it so exuberantly.

In my mind, Phil was a friend to all. One could see this was his passion; and, definitely his legacy. Surely it has rubbed off on many; please keep it alive - share it with the world.

With immense gratitude,

PF

Jessica  Samsel ~
Thank you for getting that photo of Phil in! It's SO Slim! Completely him!  :  )))