JACKSON — Her name was Florence, but everyone called her Flo, which had double meaning for a woman who lived life in constant motion.
Florence McCall-Phillips was a generational figure in Teton County, where for 30 years she lived an outsized life of adventure, athleticism and art.
The 58-year-old was a woman who defied conventional narratives. Her passion and audacity appeared to increase with age, and the more she took on new challenges, the more new challenges she craved to take on.
That’s how hundreds of people who knew and loved McCall remembered her Saturday at a memorial a week after her life came to a sudden end when a suspected drunk driver hit her on her bicycle.
St. John’s Episcopal Church was packed to overflowing with those who knew and wanted to remember McCall.
“She lived life so large … that at times you’d wonder if it bordered on irresponsible,” said her closest friend, A.J. Cargill, referring to behavior that ranged from bombing powder chutes on the ski slopes to setting off on financially-chancy European vacations.
“Last winter, she severed several arteries in her hand and had several surgeries,” Cargill said. “But what was she doing as soon as she could? Skiing without a pole with a giant oven mitt over her cast.”
McCall was that rare breed of human able to flow seamlessly between social classes, a merry carrier of sociocultural pollen who fluttered as comfortably among nomads and river rats as she did among country clubbers and the well-to-do.
“She was a fulcrum of different social groups. She had hippie friends, wealthy part-timers, she touched all these social groups and helped them talk to each other,” said her son, Tanner Phillips, 21, reflecting on the type of environment she created at home.
“Growing up there were always lots of people over at our house. She would throw huge parties and big celebrations. She likes to get everyone together,” said Phillips, adding that she was able to put people at ease by her example of unapologetic authenticity.
Dance Like There’s No Tomorrow
Often, this took the form of dance, which she wasn’t shy about breaking into with a personal style described by Phillips as “sassy, silly, flamboyant, all-night-long.”
She was interwoven into all aspects of social life in Jackson Hole and was a source of inspiration forgenerations above and below her.
Jackson resident Emily Boespflug recalls the role that McCall played in her own transition to motherhood by offering both a template and a support system.
“She encouraged me to become a mother, and just seeing how well she raised her kids and that she still did everything else even with kids inspired me and gave me a sense that it was possible,” said Boespflug, an oil painter who traded work with McCall. “I was flattered that someone this special wanted to be my friend at all.
“Then she’s the first friend to show up to my house after the pregnancy.”
Behind The Camera
McCall parlayed her personability and artistic eye into a thriving photography business, where her grit was regularly on display.
She’d shoot weddings while nine months pregnant. She’d bounce off an operating table with only half her vision and casted hand, then head straight for a job shooting portraits.
But grit was not the reason she excelled.
Rick Armstrong, owner of RARE Gallery in Jackson, which has represented some of the most well-known names in art photography, described McCall as a photographer with a preternatural way with subjects.
“Not only did she have amazing skills with cameras and with lighting, but it was her ability to get people to relax and be themselves,” he said. “She was able to get subjects to become the best version of themselves.”
Nancy Bosch, a friend for decades, described McCall’s process this way.
“She would tell an intern, ‘We have to be in the moment to capture what's here. This moment right here is what life's about,’” Bosch said. “I think that's why she is such a great photographer, because she was always 100% present with people.
“She could pull that same energy out of people. That’s how she made portraits that are incredibly touching, heartfelt. You can feel the emotion in them.”
McCall was a woman with no use for fake flattery. She was unabashedly direct. Though her tongue on occasion could get her in trouble, with time it was seen as just another of her blameless and quirky endearments.
“There were times when I did a remodel job on my house, or got some new furniture, then she’d come in and right away say, ‘Yeah, you didn't do that right,’” said Armstrong.
“She was not a false person in any way, shape or form,” he said, conceding that her artistic eye often prevailed. “The world needs more people like that, no pretension, just gives you the truth.
“And as far as the house goes, I think she was right.”
Friend First
Even as her life piled higher with new goals, passions and relationships, McCall couldn’t stop going after more.
At times it could seem as though she’d been cosmically gifted with more than 24 hours in a day. In recent years, she’d taken up golfing and rapidly became a respected player on both sides of the Idaho-Wyoming border.
“In our golf group, you had to be really good at golf, and you had to be really fun,” said a woman named Melisa, who golfed with McCall in Victor, Idaho. “Flo was both of those things. She was immediately in.”
Even as she took on new goals and ambitions, her priorities always remained with people.
Leslie Mattson, longtime friend and president of the Grand Teton National Park Foundation, shared a recent example of McCall's commitment to friendship.
“Last weekend, my stepdaughter got married, and on Friday night at the rehearsal dinner and the photographer for the wedding didn’t show up and we couldn't get a hold of him,” she said. “So, I texted Flo and said we’ve got a bit of a crisis here.
“I knew she’d stopped doing wedding photography and that it would be time away from her family, but she texted right back and said, ‘I’m here to help.’”
In the end, the original photographer showed up after all,” Mattson said, “but that’s Flo — someone who steps up for a friend.”
A Community Mourns
McCall was a beloved figure here, and someone this community must now move on without.
She was just minutes from home on her bicycle when she was struck and killed. The 53-year-old driver has been charged with aggravated vehicular homicide, a felony, and misdemeanor driving under the influence.
At the church in Jackson was a grieving community still stunned by the sudden loss that has shaken this mountain town to its core.
Mourners first filled the pews, and then they filled the overflow. After that they filled the doorways and foyers and halls.
They gathered on church steps and around the open hinge widows, clamoring for a look inside. They huddled in the shade of crabapple trees, with heads together in circles as they watched the service streamed on their phones. Many more streamed the memorial from their homes.
It was a testament to the sheer number of lives she’d touched, yet nowhere near enough.
McCall’s friend Greg Ornowski expressed that sentiment this way: “That service could have gone on for days. It would have taken that long to share all the wonderful stories about her.”
Zakary Sonntag can be reached at zakary@cowboystatedaily.com.