Phil Hoxter, 90, passed peacefully in his sleep on Wednesday, February 28, 2018, at his home in Shoreline, Washington after a life, well-lived, full of laughter and love.

A celebration of life service will be held at Cristwood Park, in Shoreline: the date and time to be announced. Those wishing to sign Phil's guest book may do so at https://cascadememorial.com/obituaries/.

Phil was born on January 25, 1928 in Minneapolis, Minnesota to John Lynn and Belle Augusta (Floyd-Glockner) Hoxter. After graduation from Staples High School in Minnesota, some of his high school friends wrote about jobs in Washington state, working for the Bureau of Reclamation, surveying the Columbia River Basin Irrigation Project. So, Phil headed west to Othello where he found employment and where he met the love of his life, Susan Anita Jacobsen, a music teacher at Othello High School. There is a photo in her collection, of Phil in his surveying gear and written over his head is the telling word, "Cute".

The Korean War interrupted their love story. A sergeant in the 223rd Infantry Regiment, Phil served on the front lines in Korea and in a particularly harrowing mission on May 31, 1952, his unit came under intense fire. Many in his unit were wounded, including the medic and patrol leader. Phil described his decision to take command as "likely insubordinate" but command, he did, leading his patrol back to relative safety. When he discovered the medic and his superior officer still missing, and despite his own severe injuries, he braved the attack to rescue the missing men. For his actions, Phil received the Purple Heart and Silver Star for gallantry. He commented that his wounds nearly earned him a helicopter flight, but since one of his infantrymen's injuries were much worse, he was delegated to a "meat wagon" ride to the MASH unit. He was honorably discharged and returned to Susan.

Phil and Susan married on June 6, 1953, in Spokane, Washington. Their love affair flourished and they remained inseparable for nearly 65 years.

Susan, a teacher at heart, convinced Phil to get his Bachelor of Arts degree in education from Washington State College (now WSU). After graduation, Phil began his teaching career at Shoreline High School. He spent his entire career in the Shoreline School District, eventually transferring to Shorewood High School. Phil described those first years as an incredible challenge. He taught electronics, an entirely new course for the district at that time. There was no text, no labs, and very little equipment. Together with fellow teacher Larry Hansen, he wrote the first textbook for his department, often creating the labs only a few steps ahead of his students. Though he thought it a wonder that he ever survived his first year of teaching, under his care, the program thrived.

Phil was a natural educator, who stayed in the classroom for his entire career, saying he enjoyed most, the moment when the light came on for a struggling student--a pun, I suppose for an electronics teacher. In truth, many struggling kids found a home in his classroom, where Phil worked to give each student the experience, sometimes their first experience, with classroom success. He made sure that every exam contained something for each student; plenty for the kids who "got it" but also enough to give a struggling student a well-earned feeling of accomplishment. He once said, "Give me the complete range of students, from "A" to "F". Those at the top needed to learn empathy, solidifying their knowledge by explaining it to someone who hadn't quite caught on. And for Phil, those who struggled were better served by seeing and aspiring to the success of their peers.

While teaching full-time, Phil earned his master's in education from the University of Washington. This made him a Husky, but for his entire life he was a Cougar at heart.

Phil and Susan raised 5 children: Jean Susan, Carol Lynn, Gail Anita, John Engman (Yeah!! Finally, a boy!!) and Ann Phyllis.

Phil and Susan were lifelong members of the Ronald United Methodist Church, raising their children in faith.

Phil and Susan bought their first sailboat after their good friend Max Carter introduced Phil to sailing by pushing him off the shore in a dinghy with very little instruction and no knowledge about how to "stop the darned thing." Amazingly, that questionable start led to a lifetime of enjoyment. Together, Phil and Susan spent many happy days aboard their sailboat "Eagle" exploring Puget Sound and particularly, the San Juan Islands, where they avoided tying up unless necessary, preferring instead to anchor out in some secluded, quiet cove. A few gallons of diesel lasted ages for Phil, who believed strongly in sail power, even sailing directly into their slip at Edmonds Marina, a shock for those witnessing the feat dockside. Who needs fuel, when you have wind!? A sailor to his core, Phillip believed strongly in the journey, not the destination.

This, then, may have been the answer to his long life, well-lived. For Phil, life was about the journey.

Phil is survived by his wife Susan, and all 5 of their children who live in the greater Puget Sound area: Jean and her husband Geoff, Carol, Gail and her husband Tony, John and his wife Maggie, and Ann. Phil is also survived by 7 grandchildren: Dana and his wife Erica, Kelly and her husband Phil, Aaron, Nathan and his wife Missy, Stephan, Justin and Jacob. There are 9 great-grandchildren: Devin, Sadie, Isiah, Ezra, Adonis, Gideon, Lily, Nora and Moira. He is survived as well by a sister-in-law, Beatrice Hoxter, by many nieces and nephews, and by his unofficial daughter, Liz, who loved him as a father. He will be missed, loved and remembered as a proud and dignified man with a twinkle in his eye.

A special thanks to his caregivers Shelly and Karen and especially his primary caregiver "Sarge" (Judy), who loved and cared for him so tenderly in his final days.



SPECIAL FAMILY MEMORIES

THE MISFITS AND MALCONTENTS
By Jean

Dad was the rock of the Hoxter household. He was proud, decent, respectable, responsible, reliable. He was also something of a rebel. It was not that he refused to follow rules. He certainly did and he absolutely expected his children to do so, but if he could not see its value, a rule was a bit "less-so" for him.

In his days at Shorewood High School, a young principal arrived with newfangled ideas for a Gifted Program, pulling the cream from the top of the student pool, leaving the average and struggling students with a somewhat skewed view of academic success. This program was in direct opposition to Dad's own "A" to "F" preference. To make matters worse, she was something of an authoritarian, who eventually imposed strict rules for the teacher's lounge. While Dad could deal with the Gifted Program, the teacher's lounge rules were too much.

He began an insurrection. It started small, with a few close staff members joining him for lunch behind a locked door in the boiler room. Then, as the other teachers began to realize that the fun group was missing, one by one, they wandered away from the lounge, down the hall to the pleasurable sounds of laughter emanating from the boiler room. The group grew quickly, eventually naming themselves the "Misfits and Malcontents".

Finally, one day, the principal realized that the lounge was empty. How odd. She went in search and as the rest had done, followed the sounds of laughter. The Misfits and Malcontents heard a soft knock at the door and the boiler room went silent. Dad slowly opened the door and in a small, remorseful voice, the principal asked, "Can I join you?"

Dad opened the door and let her in. He said that after that she softened somewhat and the staff returned to the lounge. But the celebrity of Dad's Misfits and Malcontents lived on.

"Thank you, Dad, for teaching us to stand up for our beliefs. Your presence is here, radiating out of each of us with peace, gratitude and love."


STAN BORESON
By Carol, as told to Jean

With 5 kids in the house, it was hard to find a quiet moment, but as a high school student, Carol found her own time with Dad by getting up early on school mornings to share breakfast. She loved Alphabets, but it's likely that he preferred his famous "hay biscuits" (Shredded Wheat, so named by Mom's dad, Grandpa Jake). Over breakfast they'd watch JP Patches or better yet, Stan Boreson, the Scandinavian accordion-playing king of Scandinavian humor, whose television show of our youth was a source of mirth in the Hoxter household. If you ask Carol, she'll sing you his theme song, which cracked Dad up...

"Zero dacus, mucho cracus / hallaballu-za bub / that's the secret password that we use down at the club/ Zero-dacus, mucho-cracus / hallaballu-za fan / means now you are a member of KING's TV club with Stan."

... One more time!

Stan Boreson appealed to Dad's Minnesota Scandinavian, "Ya, sure, you-betcha" background. The zany music popped up many times in our youth, particularly during Christmas when to Dad's delight, Carol could at any moment, break into the ever popular "Walking in My Winter Underwear" or even, "Lena Got Run Over by a Reindeer."

After breakfast and before the rush of the day, Carol would ride to Shoreline High School with Dad, where he'd start his work day and where she'd power through her homework before the home room bell.

"Thank you, Dad, for your encouragement and sense of the absurd. You taught us to laugh and enjoy life."


SUPREME CONFIDENCE
By Gail

My fondest memories of Dad highlight his overall, steadfast confidence. I'd like to share 3 glimpses into his conviction.

My first story features his confidence driving in snow. As a native of Minnesota, he was never daunted by wimpy Seattle snow. It's simply a matter of self-assurance. Others might be stuck by a few inches of snow and ice, but never Dad. One snowy day, he was driving me in his pickup. All was well until I realized we were doing 30 mph sideways in the QFC parking lot. Absolutely unconcerned and in complete control, he madly turned the steering wheel left, then right, finally dropping it altogether as the truck righted itself, slowing to a stop. No problem. Confidence.

Next was Dad's confidence, sailing the Eagle. One summer I spent a few days with the folks on the boat when I witnessed his confidence again. We were headed to dock at Deer Harbor, on Orcas Island. The usual, accepted procedure is to first drop sails, then start the engine and motor in. To my surprise, Dad sort of casually mentioned we were going to dock under sail. As we neared the dock under full sail, I was to jump quickly to the dock and immediately tie off the boat while he dropped the sails. Looking back, I am astonished and honored by his complete confidence in me, to handle this maneuver with the second largest purchase of his life. Confidence.

My last glimpse of Dad's remarkable confidence came in his later years, after he'd suffered a small stroke, which led him to move with Mom into the Cristwood Park community of Shoreline. His confidence shined through even then. One afternoon, convinced of his objective, in the short span of an elevator ride he persuaded an entire group of ladies to join him at a special choir rehearsal in the chapel. I suppose his "teacher voice" convinced them to join in this jaunt. They arrived at the chapel where, to their utter surprise, they found no practice. He'd been completely convincing. Confidence.

"Dad, we all love you and will carry you in our hearts all the days of our lives. Thank you for your confidence in us."

- Fondly scripted by your favorite third daughter, Gail

A favorite passage. "But those who trust in the Lord shall be lifted up on eagle's wings."


ALWAYS A TEACHER
By John, as told to Jean

John knew many students who passed through Dad's introductory "Basic Electronics" class at Shoreline High School. In an endearing tribute to a teacher they admired, these same students honored Dad with the affectionate nickname, "Basic Phil." In later years, John recalls numerous occasions when former students would stop Dad to thank him for his dedication and inspiration as their instructor. Dad was thrilled to meet these students, now grown, and hear of their successes. He was especially proud to learn that for many, his introduction led to a career in the electronics field. John gave his friend John Dawson as an example; inspired by Dad's instruction John Dawson now owns a successful local business, Ajax Electronics.

John remembers that he and Dad learned to sail together, a shared interest that Dad championed wholeheartedly. John recalls that in the early years, Dad bought the plans for a wooden sailing dinghy. The carport was turned into a makeshift boat works and Dad spend that summer (and maybe the next) building three boats. One was sold to pay for the plans and materials, another went to a neighbor for his help with the project and the third became Dad's prized possession. It was a beauty. The perfect boat to learn on. There would eventually be other, full-sized sailboats, but the dinghy had a special place, first in Dad's heart and eventually in John's, as well. Appropriately, the dinghy now lives permanently with John.

Over the years, Dad and John took seminars with their good friend Gerald Hopkins, where they learned about sailing, navigation and for John, a special interest, sail trim. They were shown a technique to gauge a sail's trim by threading yarn through the cloth. When under sail, as the wind passes across, the sail is in perfect trim when the yarn on both sides runs evenly, with no flutter, perfectly parallel to the water. Dad (and mostly) John covered the dinghy sail with yarn--all the better to see exactly the wind's effect. Dad took John down to the Kenmore Marina, close to the boat works there. As Dad stood on the shore, John took off in the dinghy to practice sail trim and one by one, the crew at the boat works came out to observe the "kid with the hairy sail." That kid eventually learned to understand instinctively when a sail is in exact trim, a skill in great demand in the sailboat racing world.

Dad was particularly proud of John's skill in woodworking, which is put to excellent use in his work for Delta Marine. John recalls that so many conversations with Dad turned to detailed questions about the yacht John was working on at any given moment.

"Thank you, Dad, for championing me and our special times together, for teaching me to be a successful sailor and the man I am today."


THE BALLARD LOCKS
By Ann, as told to Jean

Sailing was a constant source of joy for Dad. Ann recalls one, especially sunny Memorial Day weekend when Dad, along with Mom and Ann, took their sailboat, the Eagle, through the Ballard Locks from Lake Union to Puget Sound. She described Dad that morning: a handsome man wearing light slacks and white nautical Polo shirt, his feet in the requisite Topsider deck shoes. Ann remembers the effect spoiled somewhat by an ever constant, truly awful, hand-sewn-by-dad, stiff canvas hat shoved over his amazing shock thick white hair. Never forget the white zinc oxide strip swiped carefully down his nose to protect his redheaded complexion from sunburn.

On this morning, the locks were particularly full due to the holiday weekend, with lots of boats and lots of spectators watching from shore. Dad motored confidently in, one of the last boats through. Lines were thrown to the Locks shore crew, but unfortunately, one of the lines was not properly tied to the dock cleat and as the water swirled in, the Eagle lost its mooring. The effect was to turn the Eagle opposite the flow of the rest of the boat traffic. Ann was chagrined. How awkward! Then to her absolute embarrassment and everyone else's hilarity, Dad stood up and hollered, "I don't know where the rest of you guys are going!!"

In the end, because the Eagle was backward, they were the last ones out of the Locks. As they departed, there were good-natured cheers from the spectators, which Dad relished with a bow and a wave.

"Thank you, Dad, for being the rock and foundation of our family. We miss you. We love you. You will always be a part of us."


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