Philip A Holmer
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Philip A. Holmer (aka Papa Holmer, Uncle Phil, and Philsey), 78, passed away on January 5, 2022. He is survived by his daughter Evelyn (Lyn) Holmer, son-in-law Hansal Patel, and a legion of friends too numerous to list. His eldest daughter, Katherine (Katie) Holmer predeceased him.
A graduate of Culver Military Academy and Bradley University, Phil joined the Army (or more accurately: the Army joined Phil) immediately after college. Once honorably discharged, Phil became a motorsports writer for the Orlando Sentinel. He eventually left journalism and crossed to the dark side, becoming a public relations representative for NASCAR. While working at NASCAR, Phil co-founded the very popular watering hole, the Boot Hill Saloon. He later left Daytona Beach for the shores of Lake Erie and spent a measly 32 years as the Field Manager of Goodyear's NASCAR and other stock car racing divisions. In 2003, Phil was awarded NASCAR's Buddy Shuman Award, one of the most prestigious honors in the sport, which recognizes individuals whose efforts and contributions helped advance stock car racing.
Phil collected many more accolades and awards along the way of his extensive career. But that's not why we're here. You see, Phil, whose loved ones included quite a few of accomplished people, rarely mentioned their career achievements upon their passing. He usually spoke of their character and general personhood. So, that's what we're going to do.
Phil was funny, earnest, and maybe the most stubborn individual to walk the Earth. Not the most cuddly guy (though he did at times resemble a large teddy bear), he was always prepared to make you laugh if you were having a bad day. In the case that his high jinks weren't enough to lighten the mood, Phil was on hand for a drink, some food, and, if you were a lucky kid, a stick of gum. He was direct and honest, but never cruel - a giver of tough love with the perfect amount of kindness.
Phil adored all furry creatures, whether domesticated or woodland in nature. His passions included golf, wine, and racing. He was good at two out of the three. Wagering on University of Michigan football games constituted his favorite Saturday activity, but only so long as the odds of winning were substantially stacked in his favor. One of his greatest loves in this world was a Sunday morning omelette, comprised of an uncomfortable amount of eggs and whatever leftovers were in the fridge.
Not one to dwell on things, Phil made it very clear years before his passing that he did not want a funeral. His exact response to the inquiry: "Hell no. You get through it and life goes on." He didn't like what he called "the spectacle" of it all, but ultimately he just didn't like the idea of people gathered and shrouded in any kind of sadness for his sake. Phil did request, however, that in lieu of flowers you visit your nearest neighborhood bar and have a drink in his honor. As they still say at the Boot Hill Saloon, "come on in and have a seat. You're better off here than across the street." (If you know, you know.) Memories and condolences may be shared at www.rosehillbp.com