Phil Martin knew how to enjoy life
By J.T. Knoll
With permission, from The Morning Sun
Phil Martin died on December 21st. Not just Pittsburg but all of southeast Kansas sagged perceptively with his passing.
My wife, Linda, and I, and our sons, have lived across a gravel driveway from Phil, his wife, Pat, and children John, Alex and Ross for 43 years, so we’ve got a wealth of memories stored up, about not only Phil, but the whole family.
Early on we’d see him leave for and return from Topeka with his suit bag over his shoulder.
After he left the Senate, we’d see him coming and going on one of his assorted motorcycles (I especially loved the WW II one with the sidecar), and loading and unloading antiques, especially oriental rugs.
Most recently, him sitting alone – or with Pat – on the front porch with their new rescue dog, Rover, nearby. Maybe his cat, Golden Boy, on his lap.
Always with a chuckle and contagious smile. My son, Fowler, told me by phone that the thing he most remembers is how he used to laugh and smile at the neighborhood kids as he called out. “What are you knuckleheads doing now?”
Indeed, although we will grieve, we’ll all remember his infectious smile and laugh alongside our sorrow.
Phil was the subject of an interview for the Kansas Oral History Project in August of 2022 by his friend, Dave Webb, from Stilwell (that Phil — a staunch Democrat — and Dave — a lifelong Republican — are such good friends speaks to the character of both men). You can find the interview online by simply googling Phil Martin, Kansas Oral History Project.
In it, he speaks proudly of how the Martins (originally Martinis) emigrated in 1885 from near Turin, Italy, to Oswego. Great grandfather and grandmother and 8 kids. Took them a week to get from Ellis Island to Oswego where they farmed oats to sell to mining companies around Weir and Scammon to feed the mules. This was an important part of any mining operation as it was said that the mules got better treatment than the miners, “You can always get another miner … but a good, trained mule is hard to come by.” Eventually, they decided to move the operation from Oswego to a farm outside Scammon to cut the hauling distance.
I asked his sister, Patti (5 years younger) what Phil was like growing up. Early on, she said, he teased her constantly, but as they got older, he became her BIG BROTHER – took her on her first motorcycle ride, to rock concert ... and, as their father had died so early, gave her away at her wedding.
After graduating from PHS in 1966, he got his graduate degree in economics from PSU. He and Pat were married in Pittsburg on February 3rd, 1979.
His journey into public service began early, as he served as deputy county treasurer for Crawford County, later ascending to the position of county treasurer, a role to which he was appointed by Gov. Bob Docking. His work in property valuation caught the attention of Gov. John Carlin, who appointed him as the state's director of property valuation in 1979. In 1984, he chose to run for the open 13th district senate seat, a position he would hold for three terms.
As a legislator, he always sought fairness and balance, championed the rights of teachers and the pivotal role schools play in the lives of students and their families.
After his time in the senate, he became a respected appraiser. His passions included collecting antiques and motorcycles. An extensive collection that would delight the American Pickers.
He also had a passion for food. Especially barbeque. Pat told Linda and me that when he got released from Mercy Hospital a couple of weeks back, he made her drive north up Main in Joplin so he could stop at Woody’s Barbecue on Stone’s Corner for sausage, brisket, potato salad and crème soda, which he brought home and ate with John at the dining room table.
As he was experiencing strokes, he was asked stroke protocol questions, one of which was, “Do you know who the president is?” Phil’s response, “Joe Biden … and I don’t care how senile he is, I’ll still vote for him!”
Reflecting on Phil’s life and legacy brings to mind, a statement by Elisabeth Kubler Ross, the woman who changed the way people look at dying and pioneered hospice and palliative care, in which she asserts that hell will be when you see you had a chance to perform an act of kindness and didn’t. And heaven will be when you see how nice acts of kindness have touched hundreds of lives that you’re totally unaware of.
Most everyone I talked to brought up Phil’s love of animals. A love that is reciprocal. He had a white wool blanket that he’d wrap himself in at home and asked Pat for at the hospital. So, Pat took it to KU Med so it could comfort him there. Pat said that now it’s back home and their cat, Golden Boy, is sitting on it, no doubt grieving for Phil.
Getting back to his sister, Patti, she told me she greatly appreciated how he always called her on her birthday. In their last birthday conversation, when she brought up the ravages of getting old, he told her emphatically, “Well, Patti … you just gotta enjoy life!”
J.T. Knoll is a writer, speaker, historian and eulogist. He also operates Knoll Training & Consulting Services in Pittsburg. He can be reached at 620-704-1309 or jtknoll@swbell.net
