Philip Lee Fetzer

September 26, 1943 - February 21, 2025

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light…

- Dylan Thomas

My mother always said that if he had lived during the time of Jesus that he would have been one of the Apostles. She was deeply inspired and in love making such a bold claim but his life as I knew him did make me think. This could never be proven of course but he was a righteous soul and deeply fearless and defiant in the face of injustice. His was a big heart committed to education, service, fairness and family and the events of his youth shaped his life. Philip Lee Fetzer was born September 26, 1943 in Pasadena, California to Henry and Eleanor and raised in a big family after his mother passed away at a young age. Especially important was his education in the Episcopal Church of Los Angeles. He took the service and justice teachings to heart and was recognized by the Archdiocese of Los Angeles with the Carver Award for Christian and moral leadership in 1961. These were high profile and prestigious. Faith was real to him in the actions of service, not just the words. He showed this with a Summer Works Project in Mexico City and Guadalajara in 1959, followed by another project in Haiti in 1961. In both experiences he became very conscious of race and poverty and the privilege he had living in Pasadena. Coupled with his service experiences, he was a phenomenal student and got accepted to Dartmouth, Stanford and Princeton University in 1961. My mother loved to tell that story. He chose Princeton and enrolled that fall and majored in History, graduating in 1965. Aside from his great education, it’s where he met my mother, Elizabeth Deininger. It was 1964 and she worked in the job placement office there. In his later years when he declined, he would often talk about his love for “Betty Deininger.” Through the fog of age and years, he never forgot her. Age often reveals who we are at the core and who touched us. And of course, he knew me to the end as I took care of him for his last 15 years on earth. My name is Matt and I am doing my best to carry his light forward now.

My mom and dad dated for several years before they got married in December 1967. Their love was passionate and deep and they were together for 43 years. He was the sword and she was the shield. She was wise and could see the things he could not. This was big because his moral code came at a cost. We are defined by our enemies as much as we are by our friends. They show who we were and what we cared about. He was a man with scars because he stepped onto the field of battle and left everything there.

These were the explosive years of the Civil Rights Era, Vietnam and Watergate when issues of truth and justice were intersecting all at once. They were the canvas of his young life and coming of age. He was fearless during the Freedom Summer of 1964 in Jim Crow Mississippi where he registered African Americans to vote when doing so risked his life. The bravery in this came from his conviction and true faith in right and wrong. A few years later he began teaching public school in inner city Los Angeles when they faced a critical shortage in underserved areas.

These were also the years of the Vietnam War and his faith was clear as was his conscience in opposition to it. His awareness climaxed with Watergate and Nixon. It was the Age of Lies that so sharply defined the truth for him because we often know who we are by who we’re not. Justice was being broken and defined in such clear terms for many Americans and my father for sure. It was during these years that his faith was armed with politics and his righteous heart and would inspire and intensify his character and passion for many decades.

It was also during these years that he also joined the Peace Corps and began his career in public education in 1967 building his experience at a number of positions which took him all over the western United States until 1974 when he landed in a small suburb of Sacramento, California, a place called Rancho Cordova and taught History and Government there until 1988 and had the mad respect of his colleagues as he fought for high standards in the District and the just treatment of them as president of his Teacher’s Union. Right and wrong was always black and white for him because he lived the teachings of his Church. Our youth is our true core that only toughens with experience as the armor grows thick with the slings and arrows of life. He also spent these years bluntly calling out the racism he saw both locally and in the wider world. That was Phil and in the 1970’s and 1980’s in Rancho Cordova, it was an especially brave stance given the times. The critics only made him tougher and more determined. Right is right and wrong is wrong. The Sermon on the Mount was the real deal for him.

While teaching public school during these years, he spent summers finishing his dissertation for his PhD in Political Science in 1981 at the University of Oregon, having completed his Masters of Arts and Teaching (MAT) in 1970 at Reed College. He spent the 1980’s looking to move up to college teaching and he finally did in 1988 at California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo. This was a very conservative campus full of engineers, architects and young farmers from the Central Valley of California. He brought his message of justice here to a challenging audience and took all kinds of flack for it but he inspired so many more. His students loved him and many of his colleagues did as well. These fights came at a personal and professional cost as fights like this often do. But he plowed forward with his message. It was provocative because it challenged people and made them think as is the point of college. Some rose to it. Some did not.

Through all of this, he made time for his family in big and small ways with warmth. My mother often said it was the easy twinkle in his eyes she fell in love with. The images flash through me now. They are a blur of family trips and tossing the football until dusk or taking me to Star Wars films or helping me with my homework or supporting whatever passion hobby I had. He had a quick wit as well. It was something he never lost, even near the end. It made for a house that was warm and cultured with humor, the arts and so many good books. So much of this is his legacy. We were friends. He was a tremendous role model.

He retired to Cape Cod in 2005 in Hyannis with Betty, his buckler and shield through all of it. These years were one of love and rest, savoring the beauty and arts of Cape Cod where he kept reading all of his many books and spending more time with me. We had always been close but life had separated us until then. These were the glory years of our relationship where I could relate to him as an adult and a teacher myself. My dad loved that. We talked about great books, films and the events of the day until his heart attack in 2009 changed everything. He survived of course and my mom took care of him until she died suddenly in September 2010. Since then I moved into the house to take care of him with the help of amazing caregivers who gave him a high quality of life and love to live out his days with dignity. It was during these later years that his core innocence came back, stripped of the armor and especially clear in the eyes when he looked at me. The eyes are windows to the soul of course and the soul was pure. Those were the eyes of right and wrong beneath the armor and fights of many decades and a life well lived. His light went dark on February 21st. Although it grew dimmer in the last few years, it was still there. I knew my dad for 54 years and I could see what age could hide from so many others. Most saw a broken old man and felt pity. I saw my dad and felt love. I own those memories of a lifetime. He gave me a righteous core and a love of books and culture and learning and did so with an easy going wit and always a twinkle. He was deeply kind and sincere and I think that’s why my mother was so passionately in love with him. After a life of fighting the good fight, he came to the Cape to rest. And rest he will, forever in peace next to Betty Deininger, the love of his life. I miss him.

A Celebration of Life event is being planned for this June in California with a smaller one planned for Barnstable. Details will be announced in late May.