The news of Skip's passing was shocking and saddening, but stunned me more than anything else when I learned. Skip always had such a vibrant curiosity and enthusiasm about whatever topic you were discussing with him, and even if you were at your lowest low, stressed out for whatever reason, Skip would be there with a sympathetic smile, a Marlboro Red already out and waiting for you to take it, and would simply say 'tell me about it'. He made it seem like whatever it was, whether it was the latest point of contention at a planning commission meeting, listening to you rant about whatever was irking you at the moment, or which coffee joint serves the best brew in town, was the most important thing in the world to him.

Skip truly cared about Phoenixville--not just the town, but the people. The issues. The history. It wasn't just his home. It was his passion. And that's probably why, to borrow a phrase from the one and only Dennis J. Wright, his columns might have seemed "big mind-boggling wordy" to some. Because he wanted people to be as excited and as informed as he was. It's like when you hear a song that blows your mind, or see a movie that is so awesome, you digest every detail. You're pumped. You're psyched. And you want to share that with everyone who will listen.

When I first met Skip, it was my first official night with the Phoenix and I was sitting on a meeting of a local planning body in order to learn how these things worked. I was told Skip would be able to 'show me the ropes' and give me some background information on the issues being discussed and the people discussing them. Well, mission accomplished. He mapped out for me who each member of the planning body was, how long they've been on it and what their stances have been on the various issues throughout their tenure.

No, seriously. He literally drew me a map. Scribbled on the back of his notebook, complete with drawings of the tables and chairs for both the commission members and the audience, little stick figures for each one, and notes by each person such as "stormwater is his pet peeve" for person A and "tends to disagree with majority on most issues...nobody likes him very much" for person B. He succeeded in informing me, in making me laugh, but most importantly he succeeded in making me care about what would have otherwise been a mind-numbingly dull meeting.

Skip wasn't just a walking Wikipedia page for Phoenixville. He was a caring friend, and even if I can't remember every great moment I've had with him, every meaningful conversation or debate, I always remembered how he made feel afterwards. I was somehow less stressed, walked away with something I didn't know before, and always had the feeling that a sympathetic and knowing friend was a phone call away. He was a safety net that, frankly, it sucks not having.

I only regret that after I left the Phoenix I didn't talk with Skip as much as I could have, and didn't treat him fairly in some discussions. We had a great conversation a month or so ago where we promised we'd get together to catch up. I'm sorry I couldn't keep that promise.

He was Phoenixville's champion, a hell of a writer and a loving family man. Goodbye, Skip.

Posted by
Brian McCarthy