Still At It: Philip A. Keith

A few days before, during and after Veteran's Day 2019, I Googled Philip A. Keith to see if he appeared at any Veteran's Day events as guest speaker.  I stumbled upon a site I don't believe I had visited before and found a video dated May 19, 2019 where Mr. Keith shares his story with the public.

Those of you who are familiar with my research concerning Mr. Keith, know of his propensity for embellishment and lies regarding his time in the United States Navy.  In this video presentation, he appears to still be at it.

http://usawarriorstories.org/watch/philip-keith

Epilogue:  Real life Walter Mitty, Philip A. Keith, passed away March 10, 2021.  Even in death, his stories followed him one last time:

Philip A. Keith

August 24, 1946 ~ March 10, 2021 (age 74)

Obituary & Services

Tribute Wall

Obituary

http://info@usawarriorstories.com Philip A. Keith, a well-known writer and newspaper columnist, died on March 10 at Southampton Hospital. The resident of Southampton was 74.

Born on August 24, 1946 in Springfield, Massachusetts, Mr. Keith attended school there and then at Harvard University, where he studied history. Having enlisted in the ROTC program at the university, upon graduation in 1968 he was commissioned as an ensign in the U.S. Navy. Mr. Keith’s service to his country included three tours of duty in Vietnam. During the first tour he was a naval aviator, flying Phantom F-4s. During one mission he survived being shot down, an action for which Mr. Keith earned his first Purple Heart. His second tour of duty resulted in a second Purple Heart after being wounded during in-country combat. His third tour in Vietnam involved being an intelligence officer and flag secretary to Admiral John McCain Jr., who was commander of the U.S. Pacific Fleet. Mr. Keith served a total of 25 years in the military, including the Merchant Marine and Coast Guard, and retired with the rank of captain. In addition to the Purple Hearts, Mr. Keith was awarded the Air Medal for Gallantry, Presidential Unit Citation, and the Navy Commendation Medal.

In civilian life, Mr. Keith earned Master’s Degrees from Long Island University and the Naval War College. He undertook a business career, which included working for two Fortune 500 firms and doing marketing consulting. He also had a long teaching career with positions as assistant professor of business at LIU and an adjunct instructor at the Rhode Island School of Design.

In more recent years, with a long-held desire to write having previously been untapped, Mr. Keith devoted himself to writing novels. His breakthrough, however, was as a nonfiction author, with the publication by St. Martin’s Press in 2012 of Blackhorse Riders. This true story of an Army regiment ambushed by enemy forces in Vietnam in 1970 won the USA Book News for Best Military Non-Fiction Award, was a finalist for the Colby Award, and earned the silver medal from Military Writers Society of America.

“Phil’s book was about a heroic group of men who served in Vietnam but it wasn’t until later on in the publishing process that I discovered more about Phil’s heroics in that same war,” recalled Marc Resnick, executive editor and vice-president at St. Martin’s Press. “He was both humble and professional, hard-working and funny, and a pleasure to work with.”

A follow-up Vietnam book, Fire Base Illingworth, released by St. Martin’s Press in 2013, was a Gold Medal winner from MWSA. Returning to the sea, in a way, Stay the Rising Sun, an account of the sinking of the USS Lexington during the Battle of the Coral Sea in World War II, was published in 2015 to much acclaim. Mr. Keith’s recent projects include All Blood Runs Red, about the first African-American fighter pilot, published by Hanover Square Press in 2018, which earned the MWSA gold medal, and the forthcoming To the Uttermost Ends of the Earth, a narrative of the battle between in USS Kearsarge and CSS Alabama in June 1864.

“I still remember my first meeting with Phil to discuss his book All Blood Runs Red,” said Peter Joseph, editorial director at Hanover Square Press. “You could see the excitement of a born storyteller, eager to share with readers something new and original that they hadn’t known before.”

Local readers will recognize Mr. Keith for his newspaper work, especially his column, “Mostly Right,” which appeared in editions of the Press News Group. It generated many letters to the editor over the years and earned first place in Opinion Writing from the New York Press Association. When out from behind the keyboard, Mr. Keith was a longtime member of the Southampton Town Planning Board. He was a proud member of VFW Post 5350, American Legion Post 924, the Disabled American Veterans, and Vietnam Veterans of America.

Mr. Keith had many friends in the area, some of whom gathered once a month, usually at the writers hangout Bobby Van’s in Bridgehampton, to tell tall tales and a few true ones. Dubbed “Nights of the Round Table,” the gathering was set to resume soon. Mr. Keith was generous with his support and encouragement of other writers, particularly those with similar military backgrounds.

“It took me 50 years to find the right time, courage, and motivation to do it,” said George Motz of Quogue about his own book. “And it took the initial patience of a close friend, Sir Harold Evans, combined with Phil who worked wonders to get the project over the finish line. Safe to say, it would still be in draft form had Phil not been kind enough to spend his valuable time simultaneously critiquing and encouraging me. His mantra was, ‘Tell your story in your own voice. That's what people want to hear.’"

Mr. Motz added: “As is so often the case with veterans, especially Vietnam War veterans, Phil never went into much detail about his time in 'Nam, although he was certainly proud to have served our country and his service record speaks for itself. I loved the man and will miss his friendship 'til the end of my days.”

Mr. Keith is survived by a son, Pierce, a graduate of Westhampton Beach High School who is now a student at Northeastern University, triplet daughters, Jennifer, Adria, and Tracy; and his longtime partner, Laura Lyons, who he often referred to as his “Muse.”

          A funeral with military honors will be held at the Calverton National Cemetery on Tuesday, March 23, at 10.30 a.m.

In lieu of flowers a donation can be made in Philip's honor to USA Warrior Stories  

http://info@usawarriorstories.com

Where Were You on 9/11

September 11, 2001, was the day the World Trade Center Towers in New York were destroyed by fanatical, Islamic extremists who commandeered commercial jet liners and intentionally flew them into the Twin Towers.  Both towers eventually collapsed, killing thousands of people and literally stopping the world, if only for a moment.  

The attack was well planned, as another jet liner crashed into the Pentagon and a fourth jetliner, United Flight 93 crashed into an empty field in Pennsylvania.  The passengers on United Flight 93 attempted to regain control of the jet from the terrorists and the jet crashed before reaching its target, which experts surmised was the White House.

I was familiar with the World Trade Center because brother Joe had worked there in 1993, when Islamic extremists had detonated a car bomb in the underground parking structure. I seem to recall he was in one of the upper floors, perhaps the 60th or something similar. At any rate, when I talked to him after the bombing, he said everyone was told to evacuate, but he really did not know what was going on until he exited the ground floor and saw the news media.

In 2001, I was assigned to the Traffic Unit with the Garden Grove Police Department. I was supervisor of the unit and working day shift. Officers assigned to the Traffic Unit were allowed to take their motorcycles home with them and I had just fired up my Kawasaki KZ1000 and headed east on Pitcairn Street from my house in the City of Cypress. It was September 11th, approximately 7:00am and I headed over to Patton Elementary School to monitor a stop sign near a crosswalk for the kids. It was my morning routine at the start of my shift and I rode to the school and parked my motorcycle along the north curb line of Santa Rita Avenue, just east of Wild Goose Street.

I had been there for just a few minutes when a gentleman came out of his house located on the south side of the street with a cup of coffee. He walked over to me and identified himself as a Los Angeles Sheriffs Deputy and asked if we (the department) had been placed on tactical alert. His question took me by surprise, because our agency only had 165 officers and only the large agencies, like Los Angeles, San Diego, San Jose, etc. would place their personnel on tactical alert and then only in extreme emergencies. I told him I was not aware of any tactical alert and he said his entire agency was on alert. I guess the look on my face indicated I had no idea what had transpired and so he told me the World Trade Center in New York had been attacked and was on fire. He told me terrorists flew a commercial jet into one of the twin towers. At the time, the magnitude of the incident still had not registered with me. I thanked him for the information and told him I was going to head into the station to see what emergency measures we had initiated.

As I drove east on Chapman Avenue, I listened to my police radio and it was quiet, but that was not unusual at this time of the morning…on a normal day.  Everything indicated it was just another morning with business as usual. When I did not hear any emergency radio transmissions or anything to indicate a tactical alert, I asked the dispatcher if we were having any meetings because of the attacks and she told me there were none that she was aware of.  I decided that I would continue to the station and meet with my lieutenant and so I told her I would be in route to the station.

When I arrived, I walked into the Traffic Office where there was a small group crowded around a television, trying to decipher what had occurred. The news media replayed the first jet liner crashing into the building over and over and then to everyone’s horror a second jet liner struck the 2nd tower while on live television. Then reports of an additional attack on the Pentagon and a possible jet liner “missing” were broadcasted on the news. It appeared as if the United States was under attack for the first time since Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941, and the targets, so far, were on the east coast.

The image of the commercial jets as they flew into the Twin Towers was almost numbing. It was hard to grasp that it was not a movie or television show, but we were actually watching people being murdered. I was mesmerized and could not take my eyes off the television. As more information became available, it became more and more surreal. Who would do such a thing and why? Why would someone kill so many innocent people? Reports came in of Islamic terrorists.

Garden Grove had Orange County’s largest Muslim Mosque near 13th Street and Brookhurst and so I decided to ride to the location to determine if there was any activity. The Mosque had an elementary school on the grounds, but had already cancelled classes when word of the attack took over the news. The administrators at the school feared reprisals from misinformed and angry people.

While in route, I heard on my police radio officers had arrived at the mosque and were chasing two suspects with guns. I thought the whole world had gone mad. The responding officers caught the suspects and I returned to the station. I heard later the suspects were Hispanic and wanted revenge for the destruction of the World Trade Center and attack on America.

At the end of my shift, I normally drove my police motorcycle westbound on Chapman to go home. For the next several nights, I saw small and large groups of people and sometimes one lone figure standing on a street corner waving American flags and waving to me as I drove by. People flew American flags from their cars, from their homes and from their businesses. More than once, I found myself holding back tears as people waved to me or saluted me as I rode past. I had never experienced or seen a public display of patriotism of this magnitude. Although it was very touching, it was also very alarming. It was a reminder that America had been attacked. An attack on American soil by foreign terrorists had never happened in my lifetime.

Ironically, weeks before the attack, I had purchased airline tickets to fly home to Minnesota so dad and I could celebrate our birthdays. I would normally have a friend drop me off at the terminal, but when we arrived at LAX, it was completely shut down to vehicle traffic. Passengers had to park or be dropped off in parking lots along the 405 freeway and bused in to the terminal. As I rode the shuttle bus, I was shocked to see how empty LAX appeared without the usual thousands of cars that one would normally see. It was a scene from an apocalyptic movie where civilization had been wiped out by some rogue virus or nuclear attack. Gone were the taxis, buses, limousines and passenger cars. It was eerily quiet and the multi-story parking structures stood empty. And the silence was unnerving. Even inside the airport, one could sense a difference in ambiance. Where once there were thousands of travelers, now there were merely hundreds and their mood was somber…cautious…frightened. It most certainly was different.

Once inside the terminal, there was an abundance of police officers and military personnel armed with automatic and semi-automatic weapons. It reminded me of photographs of European airports where police routinely carry automatic weapons. Flight regulations did not permit active duty law enforcement to carry weapons on commercial jet liners, unless they were in a special container and stored with checked in luggage. Looking around the airport, I suddenly felt very naked without my own weapon.

I was able to fly to Minnesota to spend time with my parents and family. We sat and watched the continuing coverage of the attacks from September 11th and learned more about Flight 77 that struck the Pentagon and Flight 93, which was headed toward the White House. We learned of the many acts of heroism by the men and women of New York’s police, fire, and emergency services. We heard of sacrifices made by people inside of the Twin Towers and countless, heart wrenching stories of death and survival, last minute phone calls and lost loved ones. An endless stream of video and live reports inundated the television and I could not turn away. It was history in progress and I wanted to absorb it all.

I flew back to California without any problems. Life in Garden Grove and the rest of the United States eventually returned to a routine of different levels of alert, but September 11, 2001, changed our entire world.