Phillip Eugene Fox

Phillip Eugene Fox was born in Indiana on February 8, 1932, and adopted six days later, on Valentine's Day, by Eugene and Isabell Fox. He celebrated his birthday on Valentine's Day all his life. Our beloved father died peacefully on Valentine's Day at the age of 94, surrounded by family and love.

"There are no happy endings. Endings are the saddest part, so just give me a happy middle and a very happy start." — Shel Silverstein

A Very Happy Start

Our father grew up in Sturgis, MI during WWII; he was seven years old when it began and thirteen when it ended. Dad was an Air Raid Cadet and was told to report any suspicious activity. He hung airplanes from his ceiling, played hide-and-seek in a cemetery, and stood on a winter storm shutter to paddle around the lake. He was very proud of his Chris-Craft boat. When Dad was twelve, his parents adopted another newborn, his sister Toni.

Dad was an avid music lover because he grew up surrounded by it. His mother was an accomplished pianist who played classical music, especially Chopin; Dad also played piano. In high school he played the cornet in a band that wore top hats when they performed. Amazingly, he had three cars in high school. His first was a Ford Model A, with a hand crank in the front to start it. The second was a Dodge with wooden spokes and pull-down shades. The third was a Buick Roadmaster.

Education and Career

After high school, Dad attended the General Motors Institute. After three years of school, he began his career in Utah, where he measured remaining insulation in fired missiles. His assignment was to determine the minimum amount needed—critical work for maximizing payload.

The first ICBMs (Intercontinental Ballistic Missiles) began in 1951 with Project Atlas. Titan missiles came next. In 1962, the Minuteman missile development began as a replacement for Titan. Dad worked on two of the first three phases.
In October 1978, Dad began work for Martin Marietta in Santa Maria, CA, and retired at age 78. Young engineers loved working with him because of his long and varied experience. When he started, all work was done manually. Later, when computers became popular, many of his peers retired. Dad learned something new and excelled.

In 1987, he was awarded the Director's Award for the Space Shuttle Program at Vandenberg. At that time, he was the Chief of Engineering Support. Dad was transferred to Florida a year after the Space Shuttle Challenger explosion in 1986, when the possibility of a West Coast Cape Canaveral was eliminated.

Married Life and Fatherhood

Our father became Catholic to marry his first wife, Marjorie Swales. They lived in Michigan, Utah, and California, raising four children—Deborah, Denise, Dawn, and David. We had an ideal family life in beautiful Los Gatos, California, for many years. Mom worked at home caring for us and Dad. We had family dinners every night and swam in our doughboy pool; we loved it when Dad pretended to be a whale and gave us rides on his back. We played badminton and bumper pool and enjoyed many family trips—to the beach, to the snow, and to the American River while camping with family friends. We took trips in our station wagon, driving coast to coast, eating breakfast and lunch at roadside rest stops. Life eventually brought challenges, and our parents were later divorced.

A Very Happy Middle

Later, Dad became an Episcopalian and married Angie Loeffler in 1976. Angie had two kids, Eddie and Jamie. Both parents gained bonus kids, and all the kids gained bonus siblings.

Dad and Angie made their home in Oviedo, Florida, for nearly 40 years. They loved the San Francisco 49ers and held season tickets for decades. Their social life centered around their St. Richard's Episcopal Church family. They loved to entertain and they excelled at it. They also enjoyed living next door to the Bruno (David/Lucy) family. After Angie died, Lucy would often bring home-cooked meals to Dad.

When asked for advice about living a long life, Dad would say: eat well, get plenty of rest, don't worry about anything, and laugh a lot. Dad was a reader, and he kept Dale Carnegie's book How to Stop Worrying and Start Living. He would tell us, "Don't worry about things you can't control." Dad was a great active listener, with a beautiful ability to stay present, be in the moment, and live fully.

Resilience and Grace in Later Years

Our dad enjoyed excellent health for more than nine decades. In his final years, he experienced a series of falls that gradually changed his mobility and required rehabilitation and increased support. Even then, he remained steady in his spirit—thoughtful, humorous, and always present.

Gratitude

Though we are heartbroken to lose him, we are profoundly grateful for the length and depth of the life he lived. Our father outlived many he loved, and he carried those losses with quiet resilience.

As Cesare Pavese wrote, "We do not remember days, we remember moments."

We are grateful for decades of cherished memories with our father—funny, tender, wise, ordinary, extraordinary—and we will carry them forward with full hearts. We look forward to hearing your memories and hope you carry some of our father's love and stories with you.


Celebration of Life
A Celebration of Life for Phillip Fox will be held at 11:00 AM on Saturday, March 14, 2026, at St. Richard's Episcopal Church in Winter Park, Florida, with a lunch reception to follow.

Phil is survived by his four children - Deborah Fox of Austin, Texas; Denise Fox of Alpine, California; Dawn Brooks (Craig) of Mt. Morris, Michigan; and David Fox (Jimmy) of New York City, New York; as well as his bonus daughter, Jamie Loeffler of Citrus Heights, California. He is also survived by his grandchildren: Armondo Luna (Kashi) of San Diego, Ali Salazar (Doug) of Lakeside, Kevin Fox of Burton, and Katie Hart (Jacob) of Alma, along with his great-grandchildren Avery, Alivia, Brooklynn, Ryder, Evelyn, and Nora. Phil was preceded in death by his parents Isabell and Charles Kambol, Eugene and Vera Fox; his wife Angie Fox; his grandson Jason Fox; his bonus son Eddie Loeffler; and Eddie's partner, Stan Berry.

Phil's life was a gift - to his family, to his friends, and to everyone who had the privilege of knowing him. May his wisdom, his calm, his humor, his presence, and his enduring love continue to ripple outward in all of us.