I first met Phil Webber one evening about 15 years ago at Palisades restaurant.
He was with a small group of friends. Ironically, I was with my girlfriend at the time, Sunny Gleeson, who had lived all her early life in the same Lincoln High School neighborhood as Phil, until she married (Phil was the wedding photographer) and moved to Portland, Ore., in the '70s.
In fact, Phil was a close friend of Sunny's family, and always joked about babysitting her and her sister because he was "much older"... actually by only about 6 years.
So there we were in the TGIF bar crowd-me, never having met Phil, and Sunny, who no longer recognized him. And yet we both noticed him, as did most of the packed room. Somehow, being in Phil's presence, we both knew we had just experienced something very special.
He was all smiles, and wearing what many might call "outrageously bright" clothing, along with a pair of stand-out shoes that couldn't go unnoticed. Phil was sporting on his lower arm one of the best looking tattoos I'd ever seen; it was the image of his beloved shoes. Unquestionably a sight meant to be noticed! Phil was his own little parade of joy, exuding happiness and a love for life and all around him.
If you visit the Seattle Post-Intelligencer Web site (www.seattlepi.nwsource.com/photos/webber), select "Hear Phil Speak" and let him tell you about his appearance: "Color, from the POV of a color-blind photographer." You'll get a good idea of what and who Sunny and I met that night.
That same week, while visiting the Seattle Center (a.k.a. the "Century 21 World's Fair" of our youth), we ran into Queen Anne High School Class of '63 fellow grad Grant Haller, who was also a P-I photographer. Through this other "small world" happenstance, Sunny was able to pass along her business card and eventually re-connect with Phil and his family. Immediately upon talking the two of them realized she had been that pretty girl he babysat, and he had been the colorful character Sunny and I saw at Palisades that night.
Over the subsequent years I was very fortunate to become friends with Webber, as I always addressed him. He would make time for lunch at El Ranchon in Magnolia; he took marvelous pictures of my dog Maggie and me in my MG sportscar at the West Point lighthouse in Discovery Park; he climbed up on my roof to get a special angle shot of my Magnolia garden wedding in 1998; and we shared time at each other's Magnolia homes.
Phil even went back into the wedding photospheres business for Sunny, shooting her son's wedding in Portland. When Tiffany's opened in at Pacific Place in downtown Seattle, I arranged a little early breakfast with my future wife in front of the store's display window... Phil was there to catch our Breakfast at Tiffany's experience. It turned out that I had even known and done business with Phil's brother Bill years before Phil and I met.
Throughout Magnolia, just about everyone I knew or met thought the world of Phil Webber. As I reflected upon Phil's passing, I thought how lucky Magnolia was to have Phil Webber living here. What could we do to show our affection and appreciation for the man, to acknowledge just how special a person was Webber? Hey, let's hold a parade in his memory!
But then I realized that-be it in Magnolia or at the P.I., or anywhere among the thousands of miles he traveled to photograph this world-Phil H. Webber was a parade of life, one that will not be long forgotten for those he touched with his bright person and his recognizable photos.
That parade ended March 18 as only Phil could have directed to his son Kevin: "Ashes at the beach (his beloved Pacific Beach retreat), dogs in the front row at the funeral."
Rick Malsed is a lifetime resident of Magnolia.[[In-content Ad]]
