Ronald Vincent Phillips

There is a very old saying - “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. But for us there is perhaps a better one – Absence makes the memories grow stronger.

In December of 1951 Vincent and Mildred Phillips left Burbank, California, to be missionaries in the Canary Islands. With Marilyn, Ron, Michael and John they drove across the U.S. Marilyn, the oldest, stayed in Indiana at a private high school. The rest of the family embarked on our journey from New York to the Islands on a freighter and crossed the Atlantic Ocean.

Ron joyfully led us, making sure we had the run of the ship. At age thirteen he formed a quick relationship with the Captain.

On January 2, 1952, we made shore in the seaport of Las Palmas. John and I followed our brother Ron into the street playing soccer with the neighborhood children. Within three months we were pretty fluent in Spanish.

Ron loved to laugh, often gleefully and contagiously mischievous. Case in point – “La mano negra” (“The black hand”). We were living in a mountain village. Superstitions abounded. Several of the villagers were proclaiming that a “black hand” was speaking to them, filling them with fear. So, one evening, as the sun set and dusk fell, Ron put a black rubber glove on his hand, hid himself in a haystack at the side of the street. As people were walking by, he thrust the glove up through the haystack, and in his deepest and frightening voice he said, “Beware of the black hand!”

The people began running up the street, screaming as they went. When John and I heard about it, we laughed hysterically with him. A year later Ron left to attend high school in the States. John and I sorely missed him. The second family absence would lead to many years of being away from one another. These memories and many others were embedded in our minds and our hearts.

Our sister Marilyn remembers the day Ron was born, three weeks before her third birthday. Later, a memory of Ron holding her first newborn baby, Colleen. This was many years ago and yet for her it seems like yesterday.

Over the years, our youngest sibling, Jim, has been the one who has tried to get us all together, and sadly the occasions have been few and far between, with an ocean or a continent between us. Of all of us he has probably spent the most amount of time with Ron. The following is a memory of one of the times he spent alone with him.

“Christmas week 2018 was a highlight for me, as I spent four days with Ron…basically just visiting and talking…about history… politics…Well, Ron did most of the talking. I remember wondering if he had a photographic memory, as he pronounced names, dates and events spanning not only decades but also centuries. What conversations! And I will cherish them forever! It was also in this visit that I got to know Lily, who provided Ron with such great care and helped us to stay in touch more easily via her smartphone… sending messages and photos in between phone calls.

“Even though Ron and I did not grow up together, we grew to know each other, learn from our contrasting life experiences, and discover what we have in common. And now I am also looking forward to the day when we will know each other more fully in eternity!”

And so, we join in this assurance and we say “Amen” and “Hallelujah”.

— Michael Phillips, on behalf of Ron’s sister and brothers.