BY MICHAEL S. JOHNSON | OCT 16, 2025
There were not a lot of journalists covering Capitol Hill in my 13 years there that I called a close friend. There were many with whom I had friendly, but strictly professional relations. And there were a few from whom I would hide under my desk when I saw them strolling down the narrow corridor to the Republican Leader’s office where I worked.
Among the friends was Don Phillips, the United Press International (UPI) Capitol bureau chief. Don was the quintessential reporter—knowledgeable, probing, thorough, honest, trustworthy, and eminently objective. He was also calm and composed in his work and most importantly, civil in the way he conducted himself. I admired him.
Don was among the journalists on a congressional delegation trip I took to Grenada, just a week or so after the U.S. invaded the island to protect American students there. He got us together with other reporters for a beer—or two—the night before in Barbados, where a military cargo plane had dropped us off. Don was known for bringing reporters and staff together for happy hours to build better relations.
We helicoptered into Grenada the following morning.
We could still hear occasional gunfire on the Island as three of us senior Congressional staff settled into assigned quarters. The housing was a dilapidated, vine-covered two-story hotel that hadn’t been occupied or maintained for well over three years.
Along with the two other aides I was somehow assigned to what was once a penthouse suite. After years of neglect the suite was not so sweet. It had a dirty living area replete with little reptiles, spiders, and other unidentifiable creatures of the insect world; three bedrooms, and an indoor pool full of leaves, mud, and water. We came home with intestinal disorders from the water supply.
Despite the dilapidation, a crotchety New York Congressman, who stopped by unexpectedly, left furious that congressional staffers were occupying a suite when he and some of his colleagues were relegated to single rooms. Don thought it was worth a good chuckle.
Don was a seasoned reporter who was much more at ease than I around soldiers in full combat gear, including those escorting our small convoys from one meeting to another. To me the only thing better than having armed escorts was not needing them. The gunfire made me duck reflexively. Don did not, maybe because he was shorter.
In 1984, Don left the Hill to take over the transportation beat at the Washington Post where he stayed for 20 years. Our paths crossed fewer times after he moved on. I went from being press secretary to chief of staff in the Leader’s office, and Don focused on his chosen career, reporting for the Post on transportation, “anything big that moves,” as he described it.
Don was an Alabama native, with a slight southern twang in his otherwise basso voice. He had a big round face atop a short, stocky torso. I sometimes felt guilty literally “looking down” on him (I’m 6’2”) because figuratively I looked up to him.
You may surmise that this is a eulogy.
Don died September 23 at age 83 in an assisted living facility after suffering a stroke six years ago. His widow, Linda Werfelman, told the Post he had been in declining health.
Even though I lost track of him in recent years, it was always comforting to know that he was still kicking around somewhere. I was not aware of his declining health. Now he is gone, and I can’t make up for lost years, except in the memories of our escapades during the Carter and Reagan presidencies.
The standards of journalism to which he adhered so reverently do not drive the profession today, unfortunately. I doubt either one of us would be comfortable on the Hill now.
Neither the press nor politicians are held in very high esteem today and maybe that is a good measuring stick for comparing past generations with the new generation of professionals who perform their craft in a workshop where the traditional standards of journalistic and political propriety are no longer practiced.
In our book, Fixing Congress: Restoring Power to the People, Jerry Climer and I devote two chapters to the evolution of the media and its profound impact on our system of governance. The same can be said for the impact of today’s political behavior on the working press corps.
Both must change if the nation is to survive the challenges to its Constitution, its institutions of government, its political system, and to a society pretty much fed up with their disintegration and abuse.
Fortunately, the fabric of our democratic Republic is very strong and does not fray easily. But it wasn’t made in Krypton. It must be preserved and protected, first and foremost by the people who are supposed to rule, and then by the public servants elected and appointed to ensure that they rule, and then by the institutions of government, including media that enjoy Constitutional protections to serve the public interest.
Don Phillips served the public interest by serving a worthy journalistic mission. No doubt he had his detractors. We all do. But he was, as the Post said, “one of the nation’s preeminent transportation reporters.”
Well, he was more than a preeminent transportation reporter. He was a preeminent journalist in the truest traditions of his craft. A good model for the rest of us regardless of our career path. He was a character with character.
Editor’s Note: Mike Johnson is a former journalist, who worked on the Ford White House staff and served as press secretary and chief of staff to House Republican Leader Bob Michel, prior to entering the private sector. He is co-author of a new book, Fixing Congress: Restoring Power to the People and an earlier book, Surviving Congress, a guide for congressional staff. He is co-founder and former Board chair of the Congressional Institute. Johnson is retired. He is married to Thalia Assuras and has five children and four grandchildren.