Every morning, I received at least one Snapchat from Phil. Generally, these were creative good morning snaps, and often we snapped conversations back and forth. I can't believe that is over. He loved the Mets, the Cowboys, and, inexplicably, Drew Barrymore.
Phil was my age. We attended Pillsbury College together in the 90s. We acted in many plays together, including traveling together across the country on the Pillsbury Players Drama Team. He is pictured below, the man on the right bottom.
You can get to know someone pretty well when you're trapped in a van with someone for ten days and every Sunday. I guess he happened upon acting kind of by chance--we were always trying to recruit men for plays, and Phil was the kind of person who, when asked if he wanted to do something, pretty much always said yes. But Phil was a natural. He commanded attention the moment he came on stage. His acting wasn't even that great, but his presence more than made up for that. Sometimes the crowd roared in laughter at a simple gesture or facial expression. I cast him in Pygmalion, my senior project, as Eliza Doolittle's father, and he was such a natural at playing the carefree, selfish, charming Cockney father to my Eliza. He is pictured below, top row, third from the left.
His most famous stage turn was in Arsenic and Old Lace as Teddy, the man who believes he is Teddy Roosevelt. No one was funnier on that stage. Ever. It was a physically demanding role, as well as a role that demanded a great deal of physical humor. But Phil was up to the task. People continued to talk about that play, and particularly his role, for years and years to come (he is pictured below in the green shirt).
Phil Ferneding Do you all remember the glasses and plates breaking on the opening scene of the play for faculty check, and how literally everything in the play came together at the last second. And if I ever build a cellar door for someone, I'll make sure they can fit through it, carrying a body comfortably through the door, and poor Nikki...I dropped that girl on her head so many times, but she had that incident at the Johnson's trampoline (along with Tara) and had that brace or something on her leg."
I have hundreds of photos of him in my storage unit, and what I'd really like is to find those pictures and share them with all of you, but of course my key is missing, so instead I will paint you a picture of Phil Ferneding with my words as best as I can.
If you asked me how to describe Phil in 3 words, I would choose heartwarming, hilarious, and human (sticking with our mutual Baptist roots with my organization style).
Heartwarming
Phil had a way of sneaking up on you with kindness. After a talk with Phil, you just felt better. You felt like you could deal with whatever it was, and you knew he actually cared. But Phil never forgot what you were struggling with, and he always asked about it, even long after the talk. He was a great listener, someone who rarely gave advice, but instead gave hope. He believed in you. If you were Phil's friend, and pretty much everyone was, you knew you had someone on your side for life. He had this very Phil gesture of slowly putting his hand on your shoulder, saying, "Well," in that slightly Southern, Terre Haute accent, pausing, and then speaking whatever it was he needed to say, and I see him now doing it, pointing to himself and speaking to someone, his bald head shining and his eyes locked on the listener. He was kind and sensitive and larger than life in much more than the physical sense. You felt warmer and safer in his presence. You felt welcome, and Phil never met a stranger.
When my dad was sick a few years back, he sent me this message:
Phil Ferneding
Hey, Alex. I've been reading your posts regarding your dad and his failing health, it's brought many memories of my own father's death back in '04. You've got a great opportunity to share the things with him you need to. I know you'd said in one post, that there had been some issues in the past and while it may be painful and difficult to say some things to him, I'd encourage you to say them. I know he's not always lucid and he may not be able to articulate to you what you'd like to hear, saying the words will do wonders for your own sanity and well being. I'm very sorry that you have to go through something like this, but you've proven to be a strong and mature woman and you'll get through this and be better for it in the end. You'll be in my thoughts in the upcoming days, but I just wanted to send you my advice and some words of encouragement. Take care of yourself, Alex. It's a great comfort to know that you've got so many friends around the world pulling for you in this time of tragedy. Hang in there.
That is just one example of his kindness and thoughtfulness. The list of acts like that is endless.
Humorous
Phil would do anything for a laugh. A lot of his humor was self-deprecating, but you also knew he sincerely enjoyed life. He loved the Mets, and his roommate John is a Cubs fan, and of course I am, too, so in 2015 when the Cubs lost to the Mets, he never let me forget it. His Snaps and Facebook posts were unflattering posts of John's disappointment and Phil's happiness. This year, when the Mets were toast and the Cubs were going strong, his snaps were unflattering posts about John's and my happiness. He had a slow, convoluted way of explaining things, again, with that accent of his, that had me in stitches. There were countless legends in the men's dorm about things Phil would do for a laugh. I used to tell stories about him to my students to the point where they all knew who he was and were determined to fix us up. He was quick with one-liners, and if you made a mistake around him, that was good for a year's worth of jokes at least. We both loved The Office, the Walking Dead, and Parks and Recreation, and made references to the shows regularly. We would often have running Walking Dead conversations while the show aired, and he always cut the tension of the show with his humor. For instance:
- February 14, 2016
And he also had a criminally underused youtube channel that showcased his humor. You can see him heckling Peyton Manning here. He didn't mince words and had zero tact, but not to be mean--it was spontaneous and natural (see "human," below). For instance, the first time my former boyfriend saw me, he went upstairs in his dorm and said, "I've just met the most beautiful woman." Phil asked who it was. When he found out it was me who was described that way, he was incredulous and asked, "Are you sure it was Alex? Did she switch name tags with someone or something?" And I know this conversation really happened, because Phil is the one who told me about it.
Human
This might sound like a weird way to describe someone, but it is so perfect for Phil. He was just a regular guy. He couldn't pay tuition and had to drop out of college for a while. He always spilled food on himself (I called him Spill Ferneding for a while). He made mistakes. He had a potty mouth. He got sad. He got angry. He had health issues and he was scared. You could always tell Phil the truth about your life because you knew he would never judge you. It was so refreshing to know that in the almost-20 years that I knew him, we could talk any time about anything, no matter the physical distance, no matter how long since we'd last talked. Maybe this is the quality that made us all love him so very much. We knew he would love us back. We knew he would accept us. We knew he would always be there. Until the day that he couldn't be there anymore.
Since his death, I have seen dozens of posts all saying the same thing, that Phil was always there for them and that he was so friendly and so funny and so kind. I am still trying to compute that phabulousphil77 will not be opening any of the snaps I sent, that I will never see his face on my phone in the morning, that we will never be able to talk about rotten television again. I think of his mother, of his best friend John, of all of the people who have felt this lost like a kick to the gut and are trying to breathe normally again.
I don't know what heaven is like exactly, but I know he is there, and I am so thankful for the promise that heaven brings, that we can have hope at all times because our faith is in Christ. I don't know if Phil is in heaven with his hand on someone's shoulder, telling them about his friends, but I can picture it. I can picture him, healed and whole and happy. I have peace knowing he is at peace.
Dearest Phil, I will miss you forever and remember you often with fondness. You are always in my heart.
Phil Ferneding "I'm not ashamed to say that this was the first time I've ever worn makeup, and I'd gladly do it again...I say, if Kerux is ever sold, or ready to be torn down, we reuinite the whole cast for one dynamic reunion and one final show, to officially give it the send off it deserves (hoping that never actually happens, of course). I'm sure my lines are still but there somewhere, and I can probably still run up the stairs...so let's go for it!!!"
