Philip Brady was a man of humour and decency, and devoted to his ...

But he wasn’t just a comic feed. He was a storyteller. He regaled us with stories about visiting the set of Rawhide and snubbing Clint Eastwood because Philip thought he was a nobody who would never amount to anything, and about the time he quietly stood in the gardens of Winston Churchill’s house in Chartwell in Kent, watching the legendary former British prime minister painting. My personal favourite was the time Elvis Presley wanted to meet Philip in Las Vegas, but Philip declined as he was too busy. The stories were all true.

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He could laugh at himself too. After he had cataract surgery and was interviewing Angela Lansbury and James Earl Jones when they toured with the Driving Miss Daisy stage show, Philip reached down to retrieve a small gift for Lansbury from his green Woolworths bag only to have her crossly ask why he was going through her handbag.

In the same interview, Philip tried to get James Earl Jones to say, “You’re listening to Bruce Mansfield and Philip Brady – this is 3AW.” James politely declined. Philip didn’t take no for an answer until James [also crossly] said: “I get paid good money to do things like that.”

But most of all, Philip was all about his audience. No piece of fan mail went unanswered. Just prior to the invention of email in the late 1990s, Philip would receive over 1000 Christmas cards each year. Every one of them got a reply.

If someone failed to leave a return address, he would read the card out on radio and ask the author of the card to call in to the program and leave their address. Much to Bruce’s annoyance it became a boring nightly segment as Phil would repeat the process three or four times to ensure he got a response.

That wasn’t just an act; he wasn’t doing it just to perpetuate his “nice guy” image.

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Philip was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer on December 5 and his health quickly declined. A steady pile of cards built up, but he couldn’t find the time or energy to reply and it upset him greatly.

He was in palliative care when we announced his resignation from his 3AW hosting duties on February 2. When I went to visit him the next day, he was distressed because he had too many text messages to reply to and lacked the strength to hold his phone and type responses.

I sat beside him, and for an hour, with his eyes closed, he listened to each message as I read them and he then dictated his replies, which I typed. But he was still concerned about the Christmas cards even though it was February.

I came back to visit him soon after and he said: “Thank god you’re here; we have work to do.” So we repeated the process. Again he mentioned the Christmas cards, so I told him that if he could get them gathered up by one of his friends I would personally reply to them all after he had passed. Finally, he was happy.

On Friday he was exhausted. He reached for his phone and handed it to me. He dictated the last replies to me with a raspy voice.

On Saturday I read him the first text and waited for his reply. After about 30 seconds he said: “I’m listening to every word but I’m not putting on a show. Write back what you think I’d say. I trust you.”

On Sunday when I arrived, Philip opened his eyes and nodded. But he could no longer speak. I read the texts and told him what I was writing in reply. I only knew he was still listening as one text contained a photograph and I held it up for him to see. He slowly opened his eyes, focused, then closed them again.

When I said goodbye, Philip could no longer respond.

On Monday his carer turned off his phone for the last time. I think then he knew it was OK to leave.

The most annoying thing about my friend and co-host? He set an impossibly high standard that I can’t live up to. And I’m just one of hundreds of friends whose lives were better because Philip was a part of it.

Well done, Phil. A life well lived.

Now to start on those Christmas cards ...

Simon Owens hosts Remember When on 3AW, which is owned by Nine, the owner of this masthead.

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