Philip Coffey made an impression.
Here’s an example.
To show the harmless nature of the plant-based odor eliminator his company sold, Mr. Coffey would smile broadly at the folks gathered around his booth at trade shows, stroller pushing moms at in-store demonstrations, or his children’s classmates on career day — and with the push of a pointer finger spray the stuff into his eyes.
“He’d say ‘Look. See? No problems.’ It was pretty theatric,” said his son Tim Coffey. “That was his party trick, all his idea. There’s really no better way to demonstrate how safe a product is. He’d say, ‘Now try doing that with Febreze or Lysol.'”
The sales tactic helped OMI Industries branch out from a mainly industrial client base to retail with clients that grew to include giants such as Amazon, Target and Costco, all carrying OMI’s Fresh Wave odor remover.
It also helped land a deal around the time of the Chicago Blackhawks, prior to their Stanley Cup victory in 2010, to serve as the team’s official deodorizer of unpleasantly aromatic hockey equipment, Tim Coffey said.
The partnership resulted in a humorous commercial featuring Blackhawks offenseman Jake Dowell, his face concealed in a darkened locker room and his voice disguised by a voice modulator, complaining about how bad teammate John Scott’s equipment smells.
Often alternating between a Diet Coke and a Marlboro Red, Mr. Coffey lived life by words his father told him: “Always leave big footprints.”
On annual family road trips to South Carolina, between belting out Shania Twain or Hootie and the Blowfish tunes, he’d grab his ever-present legal pad and make announcements like: “We’re going to go through and name every season of ‘The Real World’ and every cast member.”
Mr. Coffey died Aug. 28 from cancer. He was 68.
Before finding his stride, Mr. Coffey got fired from a string of sales jobs in his 20s.
“Everyone loved him, but he pushed the envelope, he created too much internal havoc,” Tim Coffey said.
Mr. Coffey was shocked when a company that sold environmental testing equipment hired him. He had no technical experience in the field, and brashly told the company’s CEO during an interview: “Look, I’ll sell. I’ll find out who the decision makers are and I will sell more than you can make,” his son recalled, noting that his dad kept his word.
Mr. Coffey later opened a marketing consulting firm and when he took on OMI Industries as a client in the early ’90s he saw massive potential.
Within a few years he purchased half the company. A few years later he purchased the rest.
He led OMI for 35 years, with its headquarters in Palatine and a manufacturing plant in Rising Sun, Ind.
Brian McLaughlin, a longtime employee, partner and friend, had an honest and fiery friendship with Mr. Coffey.
McLaughlin quit several times and was fired several times by Mr. Coffey. At one point the pair dropped dueling lawsuits against one another during a moment of clarity as they stood at neighboring urinals during a break from depositions.
“Phil and I didn’t always get along, but when we got done yelling and screaming at each other and figured out where we were gonna go, everything was fine,” he said.
“He had unbelievable drive, nobody could keep up with him, and was so smart, aggressive and committed. The toughest negotiator I ever met, honest as the day is long, and we all have our faults but he carried his faults with him right out front,” McLaughlin said. “And he was just a fun person who cared about other people.”
Mr. Coffey was devoted to supporting Horizons for Youth, a non-profit that provides wrap-around services for kids from under-resourced communities in Chicago.
His association with the group began after his son’s best friend, Declan Sullivan, a University of Notre Dame student, tragically died in 2010 when high winds knocked over the scissor lift he was atop filming the school’s football team practice.
Sullivan’s family chose to support Horizons for Youth as a way of honoring their son’s legacy, and Mr. Coffey picked up the cause, too.
In addition to financial support, Mr. Coffey also took groups of children on annual back-to-school shopping trips and to Notre Dame football games.
Mr. Coffey also excelled at rooting for the Cubs and visiting Irish Pubs, especially since moving to River North in 2010 from northwest suburban Kildeer.
“I used to call him the mayor, he was just bigger than life,” said Kevin Connolly, who met Mr. Coffey during a bar stool chat at the Celtic Crossing.
“There’s an old Irish saying, ‘There’s no strangers here, only friends you haven’t yet met’ — that was Phil,” he said. “Walking around with Phil, it was like he was a celebrity. He knew everyone.”
“He was a fly by the seat of pants guy and the best dad in the world,” his son said.
Mr. Coffey was born in Chicago Oct. 8, 1956, to John Coffey, an executive at a real estate firm, and Ruth “Billie” Coffey, a homemaker.
He grew up in Beverly and attended Brother Rice High School, where he grew a mustache that remained a fixture for decades.
He attended several colleges before graduating from Southern Illinois University with a history degree.
In addition to his son Tim, Mr. Coffey is survived by his son John Coffey and his daughter Liz Coffey, as well the mother of his children, Lori Coffey, and three grandchildren.
Services have been held.