I only know what my friend Terry told me last night. We talked over the back fence in the dark like neighbors are supposed to.
Phil was a ‘shade tree’ mechanic with a shop in his back yard that was so far off the road you couldn’t see it. You’d take your car to him when one of the other garages told you about expensive repairs, and you might leave with it fixed for hardly any money. Or you’d call him and describe what was wrong and on the phone he’d talk you through working on it. One time he drove from North Carolina to Alabama to pick up a friend’s car to bring it home and fix it.
At Phil’s funeral, Terry learned things he never knew. Story after story of generosity, gentleness, and godliness. Phil apparently had lots more he was involved in besides that shade tree shop. He had way more money than anyone thought, and he used it to do good things without people knowing. Everyone knew their corner of the story during Phil’s life. At his funeral all the pieces were put together for everyone to see.
They buried him in his mechanic overalls.
The world is filled with unpretentious, anonymous giants.
