Peter Glenn Pape

Peter Glenn Pape sailed away. Saddled up and rode off into the sunset. Wind in his hair, he never looked back from his cruiser save to wink at us from the rear view mirror.

It was a Sunday in October when he left, with family there to see him off and ensure he had everything needed for his next adventure.

No one can say for sure where he was headed, here’s what we know about where he was from:

His father Bill was a navigator in the 459th bomb squadron during The War. His mother Betty raised three boys and loved jazz.

He was born in Chicago on a fine spring day in 1948. He grew up as boy in Houston, came of age during desegregation in Alabama, went to high school in Pennsylvania, college in Georgia. He roamed and rambled from the hills of North Carolina to the shores of San Diego, but Texas was always his home.

He undertook many trades in life. Cowboy, rough neck, carpenter, concrete man, counselor, mule and tinker. His true calling in life was that of a friend, a listener, a giver, a pirate and a prankster. He was an artist and an adventurer. He loved the accordion and to play the piano. He was a student of the Tao, a follower in Christ, walker of the Buddha road, kept the eagle feather and sage nearby. He was a story teller, weaving the threads of truth and legend so that others might observe that this world and the dream world are not separate, but one and the same.

He moved to Wimberley in 1982. He loved these hills like they were his companions, and the Blanco River was also his friend and his temple. When the bluebonnets bloom his eyes would sparkle. He shared his love of the hill country and its way of life with all his children. He loved to hunt the white tail, set lines for the catfish and tend his garden. He owned several boats and never sank any of them. He had hoped to hang on till the Dallas Cowboys won the Super Bowl this season, good thing there’s a hole in Texas stadium.

He will continue to be remembered by all who loved him. His wife Catherine (he loved to skinny dip with her when the fire flies come out in the early summer). His brothers Buck and Steve. His son, Michael. His daughters Paige, Jennifer and the Jessicas. His grandchildren Kristen, Darek, Evan, Kyla and Sophia. His friends like Bill White, John Wallace and all those who knew him as Papa Pete.

We will be celebrating Pete’s life and memory at Fischer Hall on Sunday, October 27th. Meet and greet at 1pm with the memorial starting at 2pm, followed by some of Peter’s favorite libations. Come as you are.