It was a few years ago now, you can tell, because I had to get up from my chair, walk to the kitchen and pick up the phone.
Hello .. John Philpin
.. and those were the last words that seemed to make sense in this particular conversation. The following is paraphrased, my memory is not that good.
Oh hello, we are calling to see if you have any commentary on the recent developments in Gainesville.
Sorry, could you repeat that?
Oh yes, we are following up on some recent developments around the murders in Gainesville, and calling to ask if you might add any perspective.
I’m sorry .. what kind of perspective?
Well given your involvement at the time, we were thinking ..
Sorry. What involvement?
Is that John Philpin?
It is.
P H I L P I N ? (Spelling it out).
Yes.
Well given your connection to ..
I’m sorry, I think you have me confused with someone else.
But you are John Philpin ..
Yes. Tell you what if you give me your number, I will look into who it might be and get them to call back.
.. number exchanged and I sat down.
In 2024 if you Google “John Philpin”, you will indeed find that there are two of us, but back then, there wasn’t a Google … I know kids .. hard to believe. There was something called ‘Alta Vista’ and Yahoo - but nascent at best.
In all honesty, I can’t recall exactly how I went about the next step. We had Compuserve - and of course at Oracle I had access to the ‘real’ ‘internet’ - but - there still has to be something at the other end to be found for a ‘search’ to work … so this was going to be tough.
But … BUT - you may not know this, but ‘Philpin’ is a pretty uncommon name. Uncommon like there may be 5 to 6 hundred of us - tops - around the world today. I can also tell you that 75% of them live in Pembrokeshire, Wales, or at least in South Wales.
Ok - I jest - but it is not so far off.
Donald Philpin - a cousin of my dad’s - did some research back in the 60s and 70s and unpacked a family tree of sorts essentially connecting us all back to a ‘Walter Philpin’ of Tenby, Pembrokeshire in the 1600s. (When I say - research - this was no internet search (see earlier google comment), this was serious - visiting parish churches, pouring through registers of birth, deaths and marriage and painstakingly putting it all together, by talking to family members. (Now THAT was commitment.)
Anyway, long story short (let’s assume I used Compuserve) and tried to find this other Philpin. I failed. Kind of. I found an author called John Philpin - who was probably the writer this journalist thought I was. But - no way of connecting - no phone - certainly no email - even for the publisher - just an address in NYC, which IMHO seemed too hard. (Clearly I was no ‘Donald’.)
I also found a musician by name of 🎵Five Philpin and there seemed to be a connection to a John Philpin - and I am a music nerd anyway - so what the hell - I reached out to him through email that seemed to be associated with his music.
And nothing … for a few weeks and I then got an email from Five.
We exchanged emails - and I bought every CD he had ever released - ( I like to support ‘smaller’ musicians and hell - with the same last name as mine - of course I was.)
Asked him about John - and turns out John is his father - at the time Five was in LA / Seattle - and dad was over In New England. Anyway could Five connect me?
Five - “Leave it with me.”
… delivering a result a week or so later, here’s Dad’s phone number - give him a call.
I did.
We talked for a couple of hours … mainly around who both us ‘John Philpins’ came to be us ‘John Philpins’ .. and given the tightness of our Family tree, we tracked back to our mutual roots … in .. Pembrokeshire and and and …
.. and finally I got round to telling him about the call from the news paper asking for a comment .. and there was a silence, and then .. (again ..paraphrasing)
I have no interest in talking to these people whose only job seems to be title tattle, so I wouldn’t bother getting back to them … but should they call again, I would answer their questions. They are looking to speak to John Philpin and gather ‘quotes’ .. give them. Don’t let knowing nothing about the cases they call about get in the way .. make it up .. it would stand more chance of being right than some of what they write. Might be fun?
We chatted a little longer - said our good byes and moved on with our lives.
I never heard anything more from the journalist - or any other for that matter, so I never got to try out John’s idea. I sporadically kept in touch with Five - had one more email exchange with John - but basically all our lives just continued, with this one tiny dent of connection.
As we move steadily into 2017, I know that I am not the first to recognize that we are now 50 years away for the 1967 Summer of Love. Talk to a teen/twenty something ( don’t you just hate those ’ennial tags?) … and I wonder if they would / could even comprehend what was going on back then.
Sure they listen to the music form that era … but to have a real understanding of Vietnam, The Kennedy and MLK assassinations, Civil Rights Movements et al … might be stretching it.
Why? Well, let’s put it into context.
Back in 1967, the equivalent would be to have that teen/twenty something understand everything that was going on in and around the FIRST WORLD WAR - much less the SECOND WORLD WAR.
In fact - when you think about it, the SECOND World War ended just twenty two years before the Summer of Love.
Twenty Two Years Ago the President of The USA was Bill Clinton and The Prime Minister of England was John Major.
People of my age can remember it all ’like yesterday’. But for the newly emerging generations that are beginning to shape the future of this world - it all was a very very long time ago.
Which is all good - but let us not forget how we got here. The wars and the sacrifices made by millions. The shared experiences that shaped us.
He isn’t a teen/twenty something, so he should know better (but he doesn’t), but the current president of The USA is rattling his saber at pretty much everyone.
Hopefully, it will continue to just rattle because he won’t be able to work out how to take it out of its scabbard. But if he does ….