Eugene “Gene” Phillips was born on a Wednesday in 1953. He grew up in Orinda, a small town just east of Berkeley. He died this year, on a Wednesday, in a small town in Oregon, just east of the Willamette River, Eugene.
Wednesday’s child is thought to be a bit gloomy and moody, full of woe because they feel empathy and sadness for others. We all loved Gene as much as we could and as much as he would let us, and in the end, it was true: He loved each of us in his family and helped others in a life that, in its own way, was filled with empathy.
As kids, we roamed the creeks, hunted golf balls and rode our bicycles. Our parents were often busy, and in the earliest of those years, Gene was raised by Loming, an au pair who doted on him. We moved often, never far from the last house built by our parents. With each move and new start, life at home became more chaotic, where the pressures of operating a family business took a toll on each of us and left us with a sense of isolation and to our own devices. Gene went to an alternative high school and became enamored with farming. He also experimented with drugs. The drugs would become a blanket that shaped the rest of his life.
After high school, Gene moved to Oregon and worked on a farm his former high school teacher and mentor owned. His favorite books became The Farmers’ Almanac, The Whole Earth Catalog and Jack London’s Call of The Wild.
Gene later bought a farm in Myrtle Creek to live his dream of becoming an organic farmer. During that time, one that began with sobriety, he fell in love with Kim and fathered a child, Rebecca. But his dreams gave way to the reality of his demons. His relationship deteriorated. Kim and Rebecca moved away. The farm sold.
Gene moved away and disappeared into a lifelong indentureship to homelessness and drug addiction. During these years, Gene often tried to regain his sobriety only to find himself unable to break the chains of his addiction. It did not rob him of his humanity or break his true heart. His daughter reminds us of Gene’s true nature: “Despite my Dad’s struggle with his addiction, he always went out of his way to make me feel loved. He consistently sent cards and gifts for birthdays, holidays and sometimes just because. For a long time, I was plagued by feelings of resentment and doubt, which prevented me from reaching out and connecting with him.”
In these years, Gene became a beloved member of his community, and as time passed, he learned to build relationships and helped others in their travail. Gene was well-loved by those who provided him aid and comfort, particularly his beloved Bridgette and Black Thistle Street Aid. Gene is remembered around town for his tie-dye shirts and red suspenders, his ever-generous heart and all-knowing smile. He enjoyed soup at the Kiva, walking through Saturday Market, listening to classic rock and reading crime novels.
As the years passed, Gene was able to connect in a more meaningful way with Kim and Rebecca. “During the time we shared together over the past seven years, a lot was revealed to me,” Rebecca Phillips says. “My Dad loved me very much . . . and told me he was proud.” What I saw over the past seven years is my Dad had such a strong spirit and loving heart that was able to shine through whatever battles he was facing that day.”
We are thankful that shortly before his death, we were able to spend some time together with him. He passed knowing he was loved and loving all of us. We all loved Gene through his life as much as we could and as much as he would let us, and in the end, it was true: He loved each of us in his family and helped others in a life that, in its own way, was filled with empathy.
He is dearly missed.
— Written and submitted by Phillips’ family
A Note From the Publisher
Dear Readers,
The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.
That’s because of you!
Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.
Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.
We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.
And, of course, we’ve continued to bring you the stories and features many of you depend on: investigations and local government reporting, arts and culture coverage, sudoku and crossword puzzles, Savage Love, and our extensive community events calendar. We feature award-winning stories by University of Oregon student reporters getting real world journalism experience. All free. In print and online.
None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.
As we head into a new year, please consider supporting Eugene Weekly if you’re able. Every dollar helps keep us digging, questioning, celebrating — and yes, occasionally annoying exactly the right people. We consider that a public service.
Thank you for standing with us!
Publisher
Eugene Weekly
P.S. If you’d like to talk about supporting EW, I’d love to hear from you!
jody@eugeneweekly.com
(541) 484-0519
Comments are closed.