Public servant, writer, raconteur 

IT readers and Springfield residents in general have lost a good friend with the untimely passing of Illinois Times guest columnist Phil Bradley. Bradley, 72, of Chatham, died June 27. At one time he headed the Illinois Dept. of Public Aid and was once director of the Illinois Dept. of Rehabilitation Services. He was a trustee of Lincoln Land Community College for 19 years. His final column, “Unsocial media: A Republican who misses the old GOP,” appeared in this space last week.

Phil and I became friends in the last couple of years. I wish it had been longer. His wife and my wife were colleagues and close friends at their elementary school, where they were both reading teachers.

We four then started going out together for dinner. Phil, as you could tell from this column, had an engaging personality and seemed always to have a story at the ready.

He and I hit it off right away, and laughed our way through some fine meals. It seems Phil was as good at picking out the right restaurant as he was coming up with just the right story. What better way to spend time than stories with food and drink.

Over the years, his daughter, Alix, would ask, “Please, Dad, tell me one more time some of your when-I was-a-kid stories.”

The dutiful dad did one better: he finally put those fond memories to paper. And that was the beginning of his 23 IT columns we all came to enjoy.

What I didn’t know was that Phil had written all his life. He started with prose and poems in high school, then wrote articles for SSU’s alumni magazine. Later, he tried his hand at novels and penned a mystery e-book, Chance Picks a Lady.

Phil had the rare ability to write wordperfect and hardly ever needed to edit or rewrite his works. Like all good writers, he was a prolific reader – several newspapers and magazines every day, plus lots and lots of books.

A political junkie, he loved the election season and would gladly and patiently explain both sides of heated debates in analytical precision, allowing the listener to make his own choice.

A few months ago, Phil guided me into his study during a party celebrating their new home in Chatham. I was met by President Obama’s big smile on the wall with Phil standing next to him.

Phil matter-of-factly told me he shook hands with every president since Kennedy and “have the pictures to prove it.”

Laughing together, his family related an endearing quirk of their patriarch. Phil had the habit of wanting his wife (or anyone else in earshot) to read what he had just written “right now.” That enthusiasm belied his normally calm demeanor.

That mannerism extended to Facebook updates as well, they explained. Family members would have to “hurry up and hit refresh and see” what he had just then posted.

There you have it: some personal glimpses of Phil Bradley who has been our friend behind the scenes in this column for the last three years.

When I was at St. Al’s elementary school, I received a holy card in third grade that said something about us all being “fellow travelers on our journey toward eternal life.” That little phrase stuck with me all these years – maybe for this occasion.

Well, Phil just embarked on that journey – the same one each of us will take some day. When I meet him again, I’m sure he will sit me down (over a nice meal?) and share engaging stories about his trip and what he’s been doing in the meantime. Maybe he’s even writing columns.

Till then, I’ll miss Phil, his smile, laugh, and – like you – his intimate IT stores.

Ken Mitchell, who grew up on the North End in the ’50s, is a local author of five books and a number of short memoirs.