We were rich, Phil and I. We played on the streets of Pontiac, Michigan and made it a magic kingdom. We had other cousins and our grandparents living nearby and we were a close group. We consisted of auto worker families with homes rented and purchased within a mile of downtown Pontiac.
There were musicians and singers in the family, some blessed with fine voices and others who played guitars, pianos and such. Phil's dad Everett had a wonderful baritone voice. Everett's wife, Mina was an accomplished pianist. When he was around 10, Phil took up trumpet. He would play for himself, his family and on bands for the remainder of his life. He was also a devout student of theology, genealogy and a devoted husband to wife, Kathy for some 60 years.
At one time, in the mid-fifties, the Michigan Campbells comprised such a large group we would rent halls for family gatherings on major holidays. They were a pot-luck feast filled with love, laughter and home-spun music. Us pre-teen kids, Phil, Sharon, Donna, Dennis and I would make a hell of a racket at those gatherings.
Phil and I lived in the same house for a short year or two. His family rented a duplex on Taylor street, and we lived in the back. The home directly behind us was rented by our Aunt Alma and her family. He and I created our own version of the movie, Stand By Me on those streets.
Phil (R) and Tom, Early 50's
Among our pastimes, we would frequent any gas stations we could reach by bicycle and collect maps of various states. They were free then. Sunoco, Texaco, and Phillips 66 come to mind. The maps stirred our curiosity about what it would be like to travel there.They were like discovered little treasures for us. We would also stand on the curbs of fairly busy streets, carefully listing with pencil and paper the States and numbers from license plates, all out of curiosity about where the cars were from and where they were going.
There was a dairy nearby. We discovered a hole in it's perimeter fence and would sneak in to steal cartons of chocolate milk. It always seemed to taste better when it was stolen. It was the Mark Twain "Watermelon Effect" I would recognize and write about many years later.
There was also a ball field nearby. At some point, we discovered cigarette butts under the bleachers. Almost everyone smoked back then) and we would sneak a few puffs to see what it was like to be (cough) adults.
We were big time marble players as well. I wrote a story about that years ago and will put a link here: https://tclifecycles.blogspot.com/2010/09/marbles-deadly-game.html.
Out of necessity, my family was pretty mobile. With that and the happenings of life, Phil and I lost touch for many years but then reunited online with the advent of the internet and the ensuing forms of social media. I discovered then that Phil was a prolific writer. I'd key in a "What's up?" and get back what seemed like several pages in response, most of it preceded with testaments about his beloved Kathy. His writing was always clear, enthusiastic and definitely Campbell family newsworthy.
Phil passed this morning at around 2AM PST. This was after many years of wrestling with infirmities of growing intensity. He and his surgeons fought mightily for him to stay with us but it was the end of his journey with us. I love you and I miss you Phillip Earl. I miss your avowed love of family, your curiosity and your sense of humor. See you soon old pal.
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