2019

This is not how I want to remember the end of this year.

Mom told me that a Jewish couple that babysat me used to put a bagel around my neck, which she told me was to signify a child of intelligence and I’ve read that it was also done to ward off evil spirits. I sang “Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel” and “Tzena, Tzena” along with my classmates. I remember certain days that we didn’t advance the curriculum. because certain holidays weren’t enough to close the school.  However, so many Jewish children were absent, it would’ve been unfair to do so.

My childhood is rife with memories of the A&N Television Repair Shop and any time I tried to speak, the owner took it, jokingly, as if I was trying to give him a hard time. I used ask my parents, “Are we going to see, Mr. AlrightAlready?” I remember our family celebrated many holidays and enjoyed the wonderful treats of Pakula’s Bakery. Among my friends were Maxine Brooks, David Kramer and Seth Tillman.

I'm not posting this to say I’m a great guy, but as a tribute to my parents, who taught me to be proud of who I was and treat EVERYONE with respect.

This horrible violence happened in the same city where I went to Elementary school, Monsey, and I stand with the Jewish community in New York who have seen an uptick in anti-Semitic attacks.

Life was not perfect there. Racism was not a huge factor in my life, but it was present. We were one of the earliest Black families to move to Rockland County and we weren’t universally welcomed. It was neither a diverse Utopia, nor unremitting racial horror. It did afford moments such as this: One of my teachers, Ms. Tobia, allowed me to pick out a movie about African-American History to show to the class (Black History: Lost, Stolen or Strayed). A rare and wonderful thing for a third-grader. Thank you Ms. Tobia.

The fact that Dad could become a Chemist and we were able to own a home in the suburbs was due in part to hard-fought victories from people like Representative John Lewis, who put his life on the line for Civil Rights.

I am honored to live in his state (Georgia) and my sincere thanks and heartfelt prayers go out to him and his family as he battles cancer.

I wish to live to see the day that we strive to find similarities, not differences. Similarities are more challenging to find and ultimately, more rewarding.

With Respect and Love, I remain a proud Christian, son of Orva and Dolores Phillips and a son of the Village of Spring Valley, Town of Ramapo. Pray for and/or do good.

Let this be our legacy. Let’s work to end fear and hatred. Let us take advantage of this unique, and heretofore unheard of, method of communication to share, laugh, comfort and love.

Let this be what we have in common.

Brian Douglas Phillips

115 West St (now Harriet Tubman Way), Spring Valley, NY, 1974.

The Hazards

Gulbarg (Gogi) Singh Basi, Sucheta Kamath, Rabbi Jason Holtz, Kathy Hoffman, Kemal Korucu, Dorie Griggs and Rev. Sydney.

In Golf, one is advised to avoid the hazards. Hazards are obstacles that slow your play, such as water or dunes.

My friend, the Reverend Sydney Magill-Lindquist (that's her on the right) passed away to-day. The death was not unexpected, but she had been fighting cancer for years and, by and large, winning for so long, the end came rather quickly.

We knew each other, not because I attended her church (she was a Unity preacher and later a frequent guest Pastor at the One World Spiritual Center, but because of her husband, Scott. Scott Lindquist was an actor and director looking for people to help with his radio theater company, "The Philco Radio Players". I auditioned successfully and we became fast friends. With the occasional rehearsals held at his apartment, I met Rev. Sydney who was warm, intelligent and good-natured. Having been promoted ot artistic director of the company, I was over so often frequently, she'd come home and say hello to her "two husbands".

One of my favorite times with them was a night that Unity held their "Traveler's Christmas"service. It was a night of music, worship and interwoven with the service, radio theater. Scott wrote a pastiche "Lum and Abner" script that featured a young expectant couple looking for lodgings (get it?).  The night went well, but it also marked the first time I saw her preach live, which was a joy. It was inclusive, love-filled and instructive. It was not only blessed, but it was a night of laughs, too.

Another time had nothing to do with radio. I was at the house doing some computer work (oh, yes, I was the computer guy, too!) for them and as I left, snow didn't begin to fall so much as plummet. I made it to the end of the block and doubled back. I ended up working from home (theirs) for two days and as funny as it sounds, it was my first slumber party, in my fifties! We had a great time and the customers never knew the difference.

Scott's passing affected her deeply. She told me the story of how they met and they were truly meant to be together. This is perhaps why, at the time of her passing, I'm sad, to be sure, but I'm also happy that they will be together again, no longer in pain, enjoying each other's company. Rev. Sydney was not afraid to die; as a matter of fact, she came close to death once before and it would seem that God had other plans. They had started a podcast and when he died, she said with a smile that it was a posthumous assignment to continue it, which she did for a couple of years afterwards.

Scott gone? HAZARD. Cancer? HAZARD. However, instead of playing around them, she faced them head on and dug her way back out as best as she could and inspired many as she did it. She's not entirely gone. Take a look at one of her messages. While some talk of inclusiveness, look at the photo in this entry. She walked the walk.

I'll miss her erudition, her humor and her positive outlook.

Watch out for the hazards, though. Just don't despair over them.

Good night, Rev. Sydney.