HORACE GREELY PHILLIPS JR. 1929-2008
Officer used humor in his job as patrolman
By MARTHA DELLERStar-Telegram Staff Writer
FORT WORTH -- Horace Greely Phillips Jr. was a compassionate patrol officer who used humor and a bagful of tricks to calm belligerent motorists, sweet-talk suspects and coach police cadets.
Dozens of drunks followed his directions to turn themselves in to the city jail, just like Otis on TV's The Andy Griffith Show.
And he fooled a few motorists into thinking he was blind.
Mr. Phillips, a retired Fort Worth police officer, died Jan. 19 at age 79. Funeral services were Wednesday.
Sarah Anne Phillips was 14 when she met her future husband, who was stationed at Carswell Air Force Base.
"He winked at me, and I fell in love right there," she said. "I wanted him, and I got him."
But not right away. Mr. Phillips left his future bride sitting at the Burger Box drive-in after she told him she was turning 15 -- not 18 as he believed.
A few days later, she returned from school to find him at her house. He had washed her mother's car and was ready to resume the relationship. She dropped out of Arlington Heights at 16 and married Mr. Phillips -- with permission from her parents and the Air Force.
Sarah Anne Phillips said her husband's undercover Air Force assignments were harrowing for her.
Mr. Phillips, sent to investigate suspicious events at various air bases, was once tortured by an Air Force officer who thought he was a spy, she said.
"They put a rope on him and made him run in front of a jeep," she said. "They said they'd run over him if he fell. Finally, a general drove up and told them to let him go."
Sarah Anne Phillips said her husband's military experience made his 30-year police career seem uneventful.
"To my knowledge, he was shot at only once, and of course it missed him," she said.
That was probably because he treated offenders like human beings, his former colleagues say.
"He was a pretty big prankster," said investigator Dale Hinz, secretary of the police historical association. "He had the best sense of humor I'd ever seen. That was why he was so effective. He could write a ticket and have the person go away laughing."
Mr. Phillips is most famous for posing as a blind officer.
Once, Mr. Phillips stopped a man who became belligerent as soon as the officer got out of his patrol car. After feeling his way alongside his patrol car to the motorist's car, Mr. Phillips told the man that he was blind, handed him the ticket book and asked him to fill in the blanks.
"The guy wrote and signed his own ticket," retired Deputy Chief B.J. Kirkpatrick said. "He then called the Police Department to say how wonderful it was -- although dangerous -- that the department was hiring the handicapped."
He persuaded other offenders to write their own tickets by using a German accent and telling them he was a foreign exchange officer, Sgt. Kevin Foster said.
And he once arrested a suspect by propping his shotgun in one window of his car, getting out on the other side and shouting for his imaginary partner to "shoot him if he moves." When the man fell to his knees and surrendered, he asked Mr. Phillips where his partner was.
"He said 'right there,' pointing at his gun," Sarah Anne Phillips said. "He did things like that all the time."
Mr. Phillips' experience on the downtown beat made him a natural to portray a drunk in a training activity.
"He was one of the best sober drunks I've ever seen," Hinz said.
That's because he knew what a drunk looked like, Kirkpatrick said.
"We were having a lot of problems with winos," he said. "It wasn't always convenient for him to take them to jail. So he'd fill out a little jail slip, give it to the person and tell them they needed to walk over to the jail ... and turn themselves in.
"And they would do it. He treated them like human beings," Kirkpatrick said.
Sometimes, Mr. Phillips would jail homeless people overnight so they could have a warm bed and a hot meal, Hinz said.
"He was a pretty big man, but he was more like a teddy bear," Hinz said.
Mr. Phillips is also survived by his son, Fort Worth police officer James Douglas Phillips; sisters Martha Ann Higdon, Dorothy Swindle, Annie Ruth and Betty Jean Abston; three grandchildren; and two great-grandchildren
Officer used humor in his job as patrolman
By MARTHA DELLERStar-Telegram Staff Writer
FORT WORTH -- Horace Greely Phillips Jr. was a compassionate patrol officer who used humor and a bagful of tricks to calm belligerent motorists, sweet-talk suspects and coach police cadets.
Dozens of drunks followed his directions to turn themselves in to the city jail, just like Otis on TV's The Andy Griffith Show.
And he fooled a few motorists into thinking he was blind.
Mr. Phillips, a retired Fort Worth police officer, died Jan. 19 at age 79. Funeral services were Wednesday.
Sarah Anne Phillips was 14 when she met her future husband, who was stationed at Carswell Air Force Base.
"He winked at me, and I fell in love right there," she said. "I wanted him, and I got him."
But not right away. Mr. Phillips left his future bride sitting at the Burger Box drive-in after she told him she was turning 15 -- not 18 as he believed.
A few days later, she returned from school to find him at her house. He had washed her mother's car and was ready to resume the relationship. She dropped out of Arlington Heights at 16 and married Mr. Phillips -- with permission from her parents and the Air Force.
Sarah Anne Phillips said her husband's undercover Air Force assignments were harrowing for her.
Mr. Phillips, sent to investigate suspicious events at various air bases, was once tortured by an Air Force officer who thought he was a spy, she said.
"They put a rope on him and made him run in front of a jeep," she said. "They said they'd run over him if he fell. Finally, a general drove up and told them to let him go."
Sarah Anne Phillips said her husband's military experience made his 30-year police career seem uneventful.
"To my knowledge, he was shot at only once, and of course it missed him," she said.
That was probably because he treated offenders like human beings, his former colleagues say.
"He was a pretty big prankster," said investigator Dale Hinz, secretary of the police historical association. "He had the best sense of humor I'd ever seen. That was why he was so effective. He could write a ticket and have the person go away laughing."
Mr. Phillips is most famous for posing as a blind officer.
Once, Mr. Phillips stopped a man who became belligerent as soon as the officer got out of his patrol car. After feeling his way alongside his patrol car to the motorist's car, Mr. Phillips told the man that he was blind, handed him the ticket book and asked him to fill in the blanks.
"The guy wrote and signed his own ticket," retired Deputy Chief B.J. Kirkpatrick said. "He then called the Police Department to say how wonderful it was -- although dangerous -- that the department was hiring the handicapped."
He persuaded other offenders to write their own tickets by using a German accent and telling them he was a foreign exchange officer, Sgt. Kevin Foster said.
And he once arrested a suspect by propping his shotgun in one window of his car, getting out on the other side and shouting for his imaginary partner to "shoot him if he moves." When the man fell to his knees and surrendered, he asked Mr. Phillips where his partner was.
"He said 'right there,' pointing at his gun," Sarah Anne Phillips said. "He did things like that all the time."
Mr. Phillips' experience on the downtown beat made him a natural to portray a drunk in a training activity.
"He was one of the best sober drunks I've ever seen," Hinz said.
That's because he knew what a drunk looked like, Kirkpatrick said.
"We were having a lot of problems with winos," he said. "It wasn't always convenient for him to take them to jail. So he'd fill out a little jail slip, give it to the person and tell them they needed to walk over to the jail ... and turn themselves in.
"And they would do it. He treated them like human beings," Kirkpatrick said.
Sometimes, Mr. Phillips would jail homeless people overnight so they could have a warm bed and a hot meal, Hinz said.
"He was a pretty big man, but he was more like a teddy bear," Hinz said.
Mr. Phillips is also survived by his son, Fort Worth police officer James Douglas Phillips; sisters Martha Ann Higdon, Dorothy Swindle, Annie Ruth and Betty Jean Abston; three grandchildren; and two great-grandchildren
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