Philip M. Singleton, Jr. wasn’t just my brother—he was my mentor, my role-model, and one of the brightest minds I’ve ever known. He thought in systems, built with strategy, structure, execution and carried a quiet strength that shaped everyone lucky enough to be in his orbit. Thank you, Philip—for everything you taught me, for everything you built, and for every part of yourself you gave so freely to the rest of us. I’ll carry it forward from here. Herein is Philip’s obituary— I wrote with care, and in honor of a life that mattered…
Philip M. Singleton, Jr., beloved father, husband, son, brother, entrepreneur, and visionary web designer, passed away unexpectedly on Friday, May 23, 2025, at the age of 54.
Born in Yuma, Arizona, Phil graduated from Jesuit High School in Tampa, FL and went on to earn a BS in Finance from Fairfield University, and later an MBA from Thunderbird School of Global Management in Phoenix. A gifted thinker with an independent streak, Phil started down a path that would forge a successful career that spanned multiple continents and disciplines.
Blessed with sharp wit, humor and common-sense smarts, Phil had an uncanny ability to sense emerging trends long before they become popular. Phil resigned from a steady US job underwriting construction bonds in the early 1990s and moved to Taiwan, in anticipation of the emerging Pacific Century. In Taiwan, Phil learned fluent Mandarin Chinese within a year while interning with various Asian finance companies in strategic capital investment. While in Asia, he also partnered with a venture-backed software company, successfully turning it around, and later exiting quite profitably. That experience—seeing how product, marketing, and search engine behavior converged—would ignite his next great obsession: combining his street-smarts and his love for data mining into a lucrative passion for search engine optimization (SEO) and small business growth in America.
After moving back to his hometown in Kansas City in 2005, Phil became the founder and CEO of Kansas City Web Design & SEO, where he built a lasting legacy as a trusted financial advisor, digital strategist, and a reckoning force in the world of online marketing. Though widely respected for his expertise in SEO, Phil considered himself first and foremost a web designer—a builder devoted to strategy, structure, and execution, always focused on helping others succeed. He co-authored three Amazon best-selling books, including SEO for Growth, which was recognized by Forbes in 2017 as the top SEO book for entrepreneurs.
Notwithstanding his professional success, Phil’s greatest accomplishments in life are his twin sons, Ely and Ostyn, whom he adored beyond measure. Whether they were fishing together, visiting their family farm, or simply hanging out and tinkering with cars, they were the center of his universe—his greatest source of pride and joy.
Phil is survived by his wife, Vivian, and his twin boys; his parents, Phil and Sue Singleton; his siblings Erin and Alex; and many extended family members, friends, and colleagues who were touched by his brilliance, humor, loyalty, and quiet generosity.
A private funeral service was held in accordance with the family’s wishes. In lieu of flowers, and in the spirit of Phil’s lifelong commitment to helping others and standing up for what matters, the family kindly asks that donations be made to the Tunnel to Towers Foundation (https://t2t.org/). Their mission to honor America’s heroes—by supporting veterans, first responders, and their families—reflects Phil’s deep respect for service, sacrifice, and building something greater than oneself.
🗡️ ICYMI: A Eulogy for My Brother, Philip M. Singleton, Jr.
Did everyone enjoy the Piper? In case you missed it, that was from one of Philip’s favorite movies, Braveheart.
Philip was my Uncle Argyle — a character from that movie — the one who taught me how to think before I swung my sword. And while I won’t be bringing in my claymore today — don’t worry, Mom and Dad — I brought the tool he used best: a pen. Because Phil built with words, with insight, with strategy, structure, and execution. He wielded brilliance like a blade — and gave it freely to anyone willing to learn.
Before I begin, I want to be clear — this eulogy isn’t about me. But I’d like to share just a little bit about my relationship with Philip, because I think it says something about who he was and the impact he had on all of us.
Phil’s presence was strong, sharp, and steady. And while his physical absence is heartbreaking, I take comfort in knowing this: he’s not really gone, as long as we remember him. In the lessons he taught us, the values he lived by, and the people he shaped — Phil still speaks. Still teaches. Still builds. Like I’ve said before, he may have signed off but he’s still ranking online. 🙂
Fourteen years my senior, Phil took an early interest in my development — one of my earliest memories is him pinning me down and force-feeding me the most bitter protein powders known to mankind, long before the market invented Muscle Milk. I admired his strength — at 185 pounds, he could bench 315 lbs (six plates, three on each side of the 45 lb bar) — several times — in high school like it was nothing. To me, he was a superhero with calloused hands and a tactical brain, and I spent much of my life trying to follow that example — even when I was squirming under it. I credit my own discipline and dedication to fitness to him as well.
Phil was the best teacher I ever had — even better than one of my top professors back at GW, who sat on the board of Samsung. Phil had an uncanny ability to sense emerging trends long before anyone else even knew which direction to look. Throughout college, I’d check in with him monthly over Skype — back when calling over VoIP for free felt like cutting-edge tech. I’d bounce ideas off him, and he’d patiently listen, challenge, and reframe my thinking with insights that always felt about five steps ahead of the curve.
During my senior year, he helped me make sense of the market melt-up leading into the 2008 financial crisis. While most students were glued to textbooks, Phil pointed me toward Nouriel Roubini’s Global Monitor and Peter Schiff’s Wall Street Unspun. His counsel and instruction didn’t just help me understand what was coming — it earned me an A on my International Banking thesis and a rare congratulatory note from that Samsung professor in April 2008 — five months before the collapse into the Great Recession. Because Phil saw it. I saw it. The Professor saw it. We all saw it. He didn’t just teach me how to write about markets — he taught me how to think in systems, question assumptions, and pay attention to the signals no one else wanted to see.
In the same fashion, I tried to model my career after Philip — doing the best I could to gain experience as a financial analyst during a brutal job market, and eventually pivoting into crypto by developing my own mental models, many of which were inspired by Philip. His way of thinking — always systems-level, always forward-looking — shaped how I approached every career move I made. Even when I was blazing my own trail, I was building on the foundation he gave me. I credit my ultimate success in crypto to him; I wouldn’t be where I am today without him.
So no — this eulogy isn’t about me. But I’d be lying if I said Phil didn’t leave a lasting impression on who I am. He taught me to think sharper, lift heavier, choose to carry more, and build smarter. He challenged me to grow — not just as a brother, but as a man. And he did it all in his own quiet way — never asking for attention, never needing a spotlight, just showing up with brilliance in one hand and a solution in the other.
Phil may have signed off — but as I said, he’ll always rank online. Still guiding my choices. Still sharpening my mind. And if you ever hear me say something wise or build something worthwhile, there’s a good chance it came from him.
Thank you, Philip — for everything you taught me, for everything you built, and for every part of yourself you gave so freely to the rest of us. I’ll carry it forward from here.
