If Phil Merrill is still alive–and I hope he is–I’m willing to bet he doesn’t remember me. But I remember him.
Phil was the publisher of Washingtonian Magazine. That’s where I got my first job out of college–first as an intern, and then as a Contributing Editor. Phil had a number of other business interests, and so wasn’t always around the office, but when he was, you’d know. At some point in the day, you’d hear a volcanic eruption of anger coming from his office, and if you happened to be passing by his door at the moment, you’d see Phil red-faced, shouting at somebody in person or over the phone.