RIP Fellow Worker U. Utah Philips

See Utah’s website for an official obituary.

A message I just sent to Joanna, Utah’s wife.

Dear Joanna,

I just got an email about Utah’s departure, and I wanted to offer my condolences and share some of my memories that include him.

In the Summer of 2004, my partner Melanie and I were on a road trip to Chicago, with stops in between, and we were listening to some of Utah’s music. She had heard of him through her collaboration with Ani Difranco, and because of our interest in anarchism, pacifism and the IWW, he struck a very deep “chord” with us. When the Utah/Ani song “The Most Dangerous Woman” came on, our ears perked-up when we heard the phrase, “Mount Olive, Illinois.”

Of course we’d listened to the album many times before, but this time we pulled out our map and found Mount Olive. Sure enough, it was a mere 15 minutes from Springfield, where we were planning on visiting a friend of hers. If not for Utah, we surely would never have found such a treasure. While the trip into the town was surreal, with many signs of the conservative turn the area had undertaken in the last hundred years, the miner’s monument and the final resting place of Mary Harris Jones gave us a profound feeling of continuity with that struggle and the ones we are engaged in today. Union buttons and other tokens were left at that site, including IWW buttons. If we had visited the site a few months later, I would have left my own button there, having later joined the One Big Union. But we did take some souvenirs, including grave rubbings and a picture of me standing side-by-side with the miner’s statue,

A year later, I visited Chicago once more for the IWW’s Centenary Conference. There I had the opportunity to sit at the same table with him over dinner at an old hall, and listen to some of his stories and goofiness. At one point, I told him that Melanie was a big fan of his, and it would be hilarious if he could give a big hello to her with my cell phone. He of course agreed, and I called her up and told her someone wanted to say hello. His deep, jovial voice was unmistakable, and she was simply shocked for some time after–not the least because of the irony that she was the one who had introduced me to his music, and folk music in general.

Lastly, I regret that I was out of town when Utah was in the area this past summer, but my Fellow Worker Kevin was able to collect contact info and give out IWW literature, with a great deal of assistance from Utah’s cajoling from the stage to go and visit the FW. The info we collected will be really helpful as we begin our organizing drive this summer.

Just the last few days, I’ve been listening to some of his music, partly out of reminiscence, but also because his music is very affirming when I’ve spent eight hours washing the dishes of the local yuppies at Whole Foods. There is a unique and certain sadness in losing someone, who was all at once both a living piece of history, and a truly warm and decent human being. I cannot imagine what it is to lose him from your perspective, but you are without a doubt not alone in your grief. I think Joe Hill will forgive us if we mourn just a little, so long as we all keep organizing for the revolution. While I was dreaming of the barricades last night, there’s no doubt he was there with me. If I had seen him, surely “I never died” would say he.

Utah, PRESENTE!

For the One Big Union!
m(A)tt
I.W.W.

PS
I’m trying to find a picture from Mount Olive. Will send when it shows up.