The officer pulled him over and said, "Son, your car sticks out like a sore thumb." Without missing a beat Philip replied, "So does yours, but you don't hear me complaining."

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I never knew anyone like Philip before, or since. He had such a zest for life. Philip would say it was because he never thought he'd live long. For the longest time, he thought he wouldn't live past twenty-four, so he packed as much living in as he could every day.

Interestingly, his life-altering accident that left him a paraplegic happened when he was twenty-four. In reality, the life that he knew died, and he was born again.  

He used to tell me that I wouldn't have liked him before his accident. He was always moving, doing and fixated on his life's vision of becoming an actor. As for me, I wish I knew him his entire life.

I wish I knew him when he'd dress up like Zorro and he'd climb out of his bedroom window and go to all the neighbor's homes for spaghetti dinner. Even though Philip's family is Italian there was no Thursday night spaghetti night in his home, but all of his neighbor's had it and he didn't want to miss out. He'd return home, his parent's none the wiser and he'd eat whatever mom or dad made for dinner.     

I wish I knew him when he, and his buddy painted his big-finned Cadillac baby blue. His best friend, Bobby, and he did the deed on Bobby's mom's front yard leaving a ring of blue on her grass, which didn't make her very happy. Bobby's dad was a sign painter so they mixed all the partial cans of different hues of blues together, then took baby rollers and painted the car.

It was obviously a sight because days later Philip was stopped by a policeman for the fumes spitting out of his tailpipe. The officer pulled him over and said, "Son, your car sticks out like a sore thumb." Without missing a beat Philip replied, "So does yours, but you don't hear me complaining." Needless to say, he got a ticket.

For years after Philip's accident he couldn't wait for a police officer to pull him over and ask him to "Step out of your vehicle." Finally it happened, I was with him, and he proclaimed to the policeman, "I would if I could, but I can't so I won't." 

The officer was ready to become more forceful, when Philip added, "I'm in a wheelchair, officer, it'll take me some time." Luckily, the officer reconsidered his order. But, for Philip, it was a moment of pure delight.  

It reminds me of the time we went to a Broadway play in New York. It was before there was handicap seating. Philip rolled down the aisle to our designated seats and parked his wheelchair in the aisle next to me, as we had always done.

However, this time was different. A young usher came over and informed Philip that he couldn't sit in the aisle; that he'd have to transfer to a theatre seat. Philip explained to the young man why he couldn't and that we planned on staying right where we were.

The young man left visibly confused and bewildered. He soon returned and told Philip that he would have to take his wheelchair. After explaining why that was not a practical idea, especially in case of a fire, we were sure the issue was closed. We were wrong. He came back insisting that he had to take Philip's wheelchair.

That's when Philip told him, "Ill make you a deal. If you leave me your shoes, then you can have my wheelchair." He left and never returne

I wish I knew him when he took dance from Martha Graham at Neighborhood Playhouse, and he discovered muscles he didn't know he had, and consequently; he could barely walk. Slowly, achingly trying to navigate the stairs in Grand Central Station (in NYC), a man yelled at him to "Move it, bud."  

Philip's reply, "Nice way to talk to a Vietnam Vet." Embarrassed for talking to a Vet that way, the man grabbed Philip under the arm and helped him to the train and once on the train made certain that he got a seat!

A week later, the aches gone Philip was now dancing Fred Astaire style down and back up the steps. When he realized, "I hope the guy he lied to doesn't take the same train today."  

I wish I knew him when he was a little boy, and the Virgin Mary visited him in his bedroom. He took a leap off his upper bunk bed and dived between his parents in their bed. The next day his mother had the priest at the house to bless it!

He told me that he always prayed to the Virgin Mary because he thought the best way to the Son was through the Mother. When it was time for him to be confirmed, and the priest asked him what he wanted his name to be, Philip replied, "Mary."    

He was so adorable, always, from his earliest pictures with his beautiful platinum-blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and long, long eyelashes. And from the start he was a lover, always with a girlfriend.     

I wish I knew him when in the second grade he was in love with his teacher. As punishment for being disruptive in class, she'd make him sit under her desk. Philip loved it down there because he had the perfect view of her legs!

Later, this same teacher took the class on an outing to an airport. Philip remembers a gust of wind blew her skirt up in the air and he caught the vision with his camera. It was his prized picture until the school found out and made him turn in his photograph!

I wish I knew him when in high school he decided to try out for track, but I don't think he gave it a great deal of thought. Philip was never into exerting himself in sports. Like I said, he was a lover and a performer from the start. 

First time at track the boys were given instructions to run from point A to point B, which involved running through the town. As soon as Philip was out of sight, and tired of running, he hitched a ride and arrived at point B way too early; needless to say, that was his first and last day of track.

He excelled in music. He played the trumpet, the French horn, and the trombone. He got to the top of his class in each instrument, and then went on to the next one. He loved the process of learning the instrument and perfecting it, but once achieved he wanted to move onward to the next.

I wish I knew him when he made a bet while on his prom dinner date with two other couples, that if he faked an epileptic seizure that they'd pick up his tab. With little encouragement Philip fell to the floor and proceeded to seize. Guess who didn't have to pay for dinner?                                    

I wish I knew him in his Flagler College days because he told me a plethora of stories. He told me that he would wear his bathing trunks, and furry slippers to class so he could take a swim between classes in the Olympic-sized pool he loved so much.

Or the time he had to build the set for his acting class' performance of The Monkey's Paw. Philip never the handyman secured the backdrop with a single nail. Mid performance the set was falling down and the actor's had to hold the set up with one hand as they acted their roles!

Or the story he told me about the security guard that hated kids. One evening, while the guard was walking the school checking to make sure all was copacetic, Philip decided to fill his Rubbermaid hamper with water. He filled it up and dragged the heavy water-filled hamper to the top of the rotunda.

Patiently and Philip had patience when he had a plan, he waited for the guard to make his rounds again. In the meantime, he'd practice watching how the water would fall and where it would land, spoonful by spoonful. Finally, the guard returned, and Philip lifted the heavy load and upturned it at the precise moment the guard was underfoot.

Philip said the water came down in one giant wave and it nearly drowned the guard. Philip ducked so he couldn't be seen; it was difficult to contain his joy at his perfect timing. 

He ran down the stairs to console the guard exclaiming, "Those nasty kids!" He and the guard became friends because he was such a "respectful young man."

An hour later, when the guard was making his rounds again, he was wearing a yellow, fisherman's type raincoat with the hood up!

Another time at Flagler, while in character for a play, he went to the second floor and performed a monologue inciting war stating that they were going to "Rape their cows and steal their women."   Then he left and went to his girlfriend's apartment off campus.

 When he returned the next morning, there was toilet paper strewn everywhere, fire extinguisher foam on the ceilings and walls and the hallway ceiling lights were blown out with broken glass all that remained. In his mailbox was a note from the Dean of Men that read, "Will the General please report to my office."

I wish I knew him when his suite mate's grandmother would send her grandson a tin of chocolate chip cookies, which he wouldn't share. In fact, he hid the tin under his mattress to make sure Philip couldn't find them.

What he didn't know was how resourceful Philip could be. He waited until his roommate was sound asleep, then Philip slid underneath his bed, with a flashlight in one hand and a knife in the other.

Slowly, methodically, Philip cut a hole in the mattress revealing the prized tin of chocolate chip cookies. Then he proceeded to eat every one of them, and when he was done he replaced the empty tin back under the mattress with a note inside thanking his roommate's grandmother!

Or the time he scared this same roommate, who apparently scared easily. Philip unscrewed all the light bulbs in their suite, and hung himself to the hook on the back of the entry door, and he waited. Finally, his roommate arrived. When the lights wouldn't switch on, his roommate hollered out, "Philip, are you here, Philip?"  

Of course, Philip said nothing. At last, he gave up and entered the room, and as he closed the door behind him, Philip reached out and put his hand on his roommate's shoulder. His roommate quivered to his knees in terrible fright, which caused Philip to laugh uncontrollably. 

When his roommate regained his composure, he punched Philip repeatedly exclaiming his anger. Philip took his punishment in his indelible stride and later said, "It was worth it."

His roommate never again entered the room without checking behind the door, which forevermore gave Philip cause to laugh. Years later, when I met his roommate, Chuck, he related both the cookie story and door story verbatim to me"not one aspect of the story was embellished. What a rascal my Philip was; I think I might have been lucky he was in a wheelchair!

There were many more shenanigans while at college, some of which I can write about and some that I cannot. However, I disagree with Philip. I know I would have loved him from the start.  

As mischievous as he was, he brought out the best in me. I grew in ways I may never have if not for him and his influence on me.          

He was a man extremely secure in himself. He always wanted the best for me whether it was with him or without him. He always wanted me to pursue my heart's desire. He never tried to dissuade me from anything. Instead, he stood by and encouraged me always.    

When he knew he'd be departing this world, he talked to me frequently about going on, moving forward and finding love again. He wanted to know that I would be loved. As much as he gave me so unselfishly, he always regretted what he couldn't give me. 

I know that we were "soul mates". If there is such a thing as having lived before, I am certain we were together in a past life, and I'm equally certain that we will be together again"because we were meant to be.   

Authors Website: www.togetherforeverchanging.org

Authors Bio:
Norma Sherry is co-founder of TogetherForeverChanging.org, an organization devoted to educating, stimulating, and igniting personal responsibility particularly with regards to our diminishing civil liberties. She is also an award-winning writer,producer and television host.