Family

Andy Nash

Riding Waves

Pete and I went to the Cape every summer for our entire 35 years together—first tenting in a Truro campground and then renting from a friend in Eastham. The first thing we did as we drove into town was to pick up the local tide chart so that Pete could plot out our daily activities based on when we needed to be at the beach for the best wave-riding. Everything we did revolved around low tide. If it fell in late morning, when all the other vacationers were heading to the beach, we’d make sure to bring lots of activities in the car to occupy us while we waited to get into Marconi Beach. Best was when it fell in late afternoon, when crowds were leaving and the sun was past its prime, although disconcertingly, that’s also shark dinnertime and the hour that the lifeguards go home.

No matter, Pete went in anyway. And I went too, when the water wasn’t too cold or the waves too big. But he’d outlast me every time, staying in for an hour or more, getting out only when he was blue with cold and then wrapping up in our sun-warmed towels. Sometimes I’d sit behind him, spoon-style, until he stopped shivering.

Pete’s wave-riding style was old school, taught to him by his dad during childhood trips to Old Orchard Beach. He knew exactly how to catch the wave and how to ride it all the way in until he scraped sand. People would often stop to watch him, and sometimes you’d see a father pointing out his careful aquadynamic form to a young son who only knew a wave from the vantage point of a boogey board.  Many men approached him to describe how their own fathers had taught them to body surf and to reminisce about the days when they enjoyed the water without the aid of plastic or Styrofoam. 

It was all so simple, and it made him so happy.

Pretty Funny

When a friend recently gifted me a session with a medium, one of the first things she said about Pete was, “He’s really funny. He’s making me laugh.” Especially in a group, Pete had such a wit. His at-home humor was different—banter and silliness. But in a group I could see him in action, building on a joke to make us laugh harder each time. It worked like this: something would strike us as funny—let’s say someone told a story about buying pants that were too tight—we’d all laugh. And then as the conversation moved on to other topics, he’d pop that line in. Someone’s boss was a jerk? Maybe his pants were too tight! Someone looking for love? Maybe they should tighten their pants a little!

His timing was artful. He waited until the conversation had fully moved on to something else before inserting his quip, so that it took everyone a second to get the joke. Again, and again. 

Sometimes Pete would come home from work and say, “I was really funny at our staff meeting today.” And he’d go on to crack himself up as he recounted his joke and described how he lit up the room.

Which he did. He lit up a room.

Steve Berry

In the late Spring of 1976 and I was working in Fitchburg, MA managing a retail store. Late morning, Pete walks into the store wearing bike riding gear. He says, "Steve, see you in about 3 months; I'm on my way to the Pacific." This was the first day of many days riding his bike cross county with his three friends, Kevin Hawley, Dave Hawley and Jim O'Hara. They had started their ride at Boston Harbor earlier that day—leaving from Norwood would not qualify as coast to coast (a testament to Pete's integrity, honesty and perfectionism). This would be one of Pete's many adventures which I admired and always looked up to him for. He was not afraid to take on challenges which fulfilled his dreams and made him the interesting person he was.

Another: I’m guessing Jan. 1980. Study abroad programs were not as common then as they are today. Pete chose to do a semester abroad at Brisbane College in Australia. Of course he had to take his bike. After all, how else would one travel 500 hundred miles to get from Sydney to Brisbane? I think he chose to leave school within the first month of being there and decided to travel throughout Australia—first by bike, then any means available. He took on various jobs, working on docks and in a slaughterhouse while making his way to Melbourne, on the south coast. In Melbourne a young family befriended him and took him in to work their farm.  After months down on the farm the travel bug again struck Pete. He traveled north through Alice Springs to the northern coast and from there into Indonesia and then Southeast Asia, China, Hong Kong and Japan. While touring China, Pete decided to venture into a "restricted area" and was arrested until an interpreter from Beijing arrived to "interrogate" him. He was released and went on his way.  

Pete continued traveling through Asia through November 1982. Marie and I had married and moved to CT. I was in our apartment waiting for Marie to come home from work when she and Pete walked through the door, surprising me. The joy, excitement and tears of being reunited with my brother will never be forgotten. Keep traveling Pete, I love you.

Linda Berry

Even at birth Peter was “tall” and very thin, had a dark complexion and was covered all over with long black hair. When the nurse brought him to Mum for the first time and announced “Here’s your baby boy Mrs. Berry!” Mum replied, “That’s not MY baby!” thinking to herself, “He looks like a Monkey!” But the nurse insisted it was indeed her baby boy, Peter Joseph. But look how that little “duckling” grew into the most beautiful swan!  Inside and out!

Every day after school my brothers and I came home to an after school snack of milk and cookies. In the kitchen, our dad had built all the cabinets and he made two sliding countertop “shelves” that, when opened, made a place for two to sit at.

Now, I wouldn’t exactly call it “bullying.” Maybe there was an unspoken pecking order. Or just plain old sibling rivalry. It DID seem that Pete was Mum’s “Favorite” with a Capital “F”!! She was always hugging and kissing him saying,” He’s my BABY. I’m not going to have any more babies! Peter’s my baby!”

The point is . . . every day Steven and I would take the two stools and leave Peter standing to eat his milk and cookies. One day Peter asked “Why can’t I sit down?” Steven and I said something to the effect of, “We got here first” or, “We’re bigger (or older) than you!” Pete was silent.

The next day he somehow managed to get home before us and got himself one of the two stools, leaving Steve and I quibbling over the one stool. We said “You have to stand up!” Peter was trying to stand his ground but after a while, he started crying. I said, “Why are you crying? Through his tears, Peter answered, “Because if I stand up, the food will go to my feet!” Logical.

Alexandra Berry

For some reason, in my head, I have a strong memory of playing at your house, especially around 4th of July. I remember I used to love climbing up the creaky wood stairs to the roof and being "really careful" with each step. The roof was a fun place for me where I could go up, be high above, and look at everything so small beneath. I probably also liked it because I could be quietly nosey and peek around to see what others were doing. I remember being up on the roof for 4th of July and watching the Boston fireworks in the distance. It was beautiful, and knowing that I was in the comfort of my loved ones meant the world. Being able to brag and say, "I watched the Boston fireworks from my aunt and uncle's roof for 4th of July" was a huge perk too! I also remember always asking for raw almonds out of the mason jar in your kitchen when I was young. Pete was much taller than us and could reach up, screw the top off, and pour a few almonds into our eager hands.

That's probably how I grew to loving almonds so much. For Christmas 2018 I got 2 lbs of raw almonds from you guys. Sounds like a simple gift but it was exactly what I wanted! 

As I grew older, I'd often describe Pete to my friends as my super fit uncle who is a ceramist and teaches at Harvard and biked across the US. I'd also throw in "and he's featured in a book called 500 Vases." I felt so proud when Pete showed me the book. I really looked up to you guys, respecting your sustainable living and admiring how much you had traveled. Younger me didn't appreciate it until I got a job that required me to explore the world. I would send postcards from new and exotic places that made me think of you. Usually I thought, "Pete has probably been here before, but I'll still send a card." I never told this to anyone, but I really wanted to go to Lebanon with Dad, Linda, and Pete with the money that I've been earning in Philippines.

When I moved to PH, some of the realest conversations I had were with you and Pete via FaceTime. My first year was not easy at all but Pete listened and was able to give me some suggestions for making friends and fitting in. With time, things got easier and also made coming home so much sweeter. I was looking forward to coming to Boston so I could spend uninterrupted time with you guys—to cook together, take walks, catch up, and have one-on-one time. 

Soon after Pete was diagnosed, I had another FaceTime conversation with him about the opportunity to apply for an additional role at school. He did not hold back and listed out all of the reasons why I shouldn't take the position. He offered to pay me the $2,000 instead of working the extra hours for it! While I was taking time to reflect on the position and Pete's words, Pete passed and coincidentally my co-teacher decided to withdraw from the position and we declined our interview. A sign from Pete? In the end, I'm quietly relieved I didn't push through with the demanding role. I think Pete was right.

Christina Berry

It's one of the only times I can remember hanging with Pete and Andy and their friends. It was fun to see this side of them—one I didn't get to see often, as their niece who lived two and a half hours away. I was familiar with the settings of family gatherings; a handful of times each year, mostly for holidays. I saw Pete then as my young, playful uncle, who would play yard games or board games to help keep us kids entertained. He was quiet, gentle, and cool. I always thought Pete was so cool.

This night though, on the Cape—salty air, starry sky, smokey fire. Friends, family, laughter—so much laughter. I got to see Pete through my new, "adult" set of eyes, as we shared drinks and let loose together in a way we hadn't before. There were these tiny, luminescent plankton on the beach that would glow in the dark if you dragged a foot through the sand. That kept us entertained for a while. Pete was child-like and giddy and free.

I'll miss having the chance of getting to know him more like this, outside of our standard family dynamic; but I'll cherish the many moments we shared, and I'll forever remember that night on the Cape with my uncle Pete. 

Samantha Berry

I was fortunate enough to know Pete for my whole life. He was my uncle—my only uncle from my dad’s side of the family. It’s hard to remember just a few memories of Pete because we shared so many. He was always willing to play a game; whether it be wiffle ball in the backyard at grandma and grandpa’s or Aces in the hospital while receiving chemo. He was comforting; always providing a shoulder to sleep on as a kid, then providing his home when I’d visit Boston. I always knew I’d be welcomed with open arms. 

Pete inspired me in many ways. His love for pottery has been adopted into my own love for art. His desire for adventure has encouraged me to push my limits and explore the world. And his passion for sustainability was the first to open my eyes in the ways that I can help in making a difference. 

There was never judgement from Pete. He began with curiosity and would return with advice. He cared and he loved so many people he’s met throughout his life. It was an honor to be with him throughout his final months on this earth; to witness his strength through chemo; to see him continue to make jokes even when he could barely open his eyes. And his desire to say goodbye personally to all those he truly loved. He has touched so many and I hope that they will share his light as they continue on earth. 

Until we meet again Pete! Give everyone a big hug up there and watch over us. I love you! 

Marie Berry

Peter was always warm and caring. We had a connection, without judgement, often engaged in conversations about people, travel and an appreciation for different cultures around the world. He studied in Australia, then traveled across Asia for a year. Early on, I traveled internationally for work and he was always interested in my latest venture. Our girls studied abroad, and he enjoyed sharing their adventures. We shared a love for Cape Cod—the endless beaches, laid-back lifestyle, quaint villages, seafood shacks, lighthouses and art galleries, not to mention time with those we loved. 

For over thirty years, Steve and I vacationed with our family in summer cottages at the Cape, as did Peter and Andy. We would often some time together by the ocean, enjoying the beach, a beautiful sunset or an evening cookout. 

As our kids got older, Peter found ways to engage them in games and chats about their travel—he became not only an uncle, but a friend. He was thoughtful and kind and one summer he invited us to a bonfire at the Cape Cod National Seashore. It was a chilly, but beautiful night, the sky was filled with stars and we had to carry our coolers, snacks, s’mores and lots of firewood! There were friends and relatives all gathered for a night lit only by firelight—laughing, drinking, enjoying our time together. The kids were young teens, happy to be outside in the evening hours—no cares, no rush, no agenda—just as he planned. He enjoyed time with family and friends, no matter where he was—often just being present. It was moments like these that I will always remember. He will be greatly missed.

Bobby Peter

Pete was intense on the golf course and wanted to make the most of every shot. He hated distractions as one of the unwritten rules of golf is to be quiet and motionless when someone in the group is executing a shot. Now Mike and I are not quite like that. We don't mind if there is some conversation or joking going on while we prepare to hit the golf ball. 

One day, as Pete prepared to hit a shot at Old Scotland Links, I stood about 20 feet from Pete and noticed a plastic water bottle on the ground. As Pete was about to hit his tee shot, I picked up the bottle, took the cover off the recycled container, dropped the bottle in the container, and put the lid back on top of the container. That made a little background noise, and Pete hit his shot into the woods. Ha, you wouldn't believe the glare I received from him. I was rather oblivious to this incident, but Mike brought it to my attention as Pete went into the woods to retrieve his golf ball. I felt bad, but the next time we played that hole at that golf course, as Pete prepared to hit his tee shot, I told him, I'm not going anywhere near that recycling bin. That got a smile out of him. We joked about that to the day he passed.  

Yes, Pete was rather intense on the golf course, but he was the perfect gentleman and always helped us find our stray shots and put up with my teasing and silly humor. He was the perfect guy to hang and compete with. Everyone enjoyed his company, a genuine and compassionate person. I hope he knows how much we love him.

David Peter

I grew up with Pete. As we got older, Pete would come up to Lake Winnipesaukee with the family and we got in a lot of trouble. One time we lit the woods on fire and the fire department and our parents had to put it out. Pete had recently had a similar problem at the tannery near his house and didn’t want to participate. He told us we would soon learn what he learned about lighting fires. He was right.

The funniest time for me was on Christmas night when I drove the car and Joe Barrett, Steve Riekert, Jim Tibert and Pete went to the Oxford Ale House in Harvard Square.

On the way back, I think Pete suggested we drive home in reverse. I told him no problem and spun around the car. We were going about 45 in reverse and even passed a couple of cars. When we got to Islington I thought I saw a police car and decided to drive forwards. The cop began following and stopped us. When he came up to me in the driver’s seat, Pete told me for years that he thought it was hilarious that I asked the cop “Could I ask why you pulled me over?” He told me to get out of the car and asked me to explain what was in the trunk. The springs were broken and the rear of the car was very low so I pushed down on the car to show him. Everyone in the car turned around expecting to see me being handcuffed, but I was just pushing down on the car to show the springs were shot. It turns out I knew the cop from church and he told me to be careful and I could leave. Pete and the guys couldn’t believe it and we drove away.

Lila Kee

In fond remembrance of my cousin Pete’s birthday, I recall several delightful occasions where Pete, my brother Bob, Kevin and cousin Steve met to do what only true “Peter Berrys” can do, and turn a friendly game of whist into a competitive battle where the victors left with some cool cash in their pockets and plenty of bragging rights.  Looking back, I realize the win/loss ratio of the game was second to the satisfying chuckles Pete produced with the most deadpanned commentary as a continuous stream of unexpected neighbors dropped by, massive amounts of food were foisted upon our already full bellies, and we engaged in random acts of joke telling about our elders.

Pete’s always good nature reminded us less-patient mortals that these interruptions were in fact not obstacles to our day’s plans, but in fact were gifts to be embraced! I’ll always cherish Pete’s wry smile, understated, yet powerful wit that proved how truly wise, ridiculously funny and kind he really was.

John Chojnowski

I was the youngest cousin and I did not get to see or hang out with my older cousins very often, but I would be told stories of their accomplishments and adventures and always be inspired. The stories I heard of my cousin Peter always made me think of him as a kind of superhero when I was younger. I was fascinated by the story of him riding his bicycle across the country and astounded by his accomplishments as a champion wrestler in high school. On the occasions that I did get to see him and hang out with him, usually at Christmas time at my mother's family party or at Thanksgiving at Uncle Ernie and Aunt Sally's house, I was taken by his mild mannered personality and calm and cool demeanor. He always appeared so thoughtful and contemplative in the way he listened to my responses as he asked me questions about school or sports. He never boasted about his adventures or accomplishments, but always seemed to want to know about me and what was happening in my life, as trivial as it may have been.

As we grew older, and I became an adult myself, I was fortunate to share a love of the game of golf with Pete. We had started to talk several years back at one of the family parties about how we should get together to play. Eventually, after many attempts, we were able to arrange a golf outing with cousin Bobby and Steve. I had never hung out with my cousins as an adult before in a social setting and I was not sure what to expect. I was pretty sure that I knew everyone's personality pretty well from my conversations over the years with them, but you never really know someone until you play a round of golf together. Well, cousin Bobby turned out to be the jokester, as I expected, and cousin Steve was a pretty good golfer and very “professional” on the course, probably from the many rounds of golf he had to play with colleagues over the years. My surprise came when I learned that my cousin Peter, who I knew to be very calm and introspective and mild mannered, shanked a drive on the second or third hole and I learned that he not only called himself Pete, but he very boisterously called himself F@!*%#! Pete! This happened several more times, along with a few club slams and obscenities about how stupid he was after mis-hitting a chip or a putt. Well, playing golf with Pete became a lot more interesting than I thought! Pete was much more competitive than I had known and he was very hard on himself when he did not perform as well as desired. 

I was fortunate that our golf outings continued for several years and that we were able to sneak in a few rounds over the years and spend that quality time getting to know each other. I always enjoyed our conversations and he continued to always be extremely interested in what I had to say and what was going on in my life. I believe that Pete got a lot out of life from listening to others and hearing various perspectives, but he was always true to his beliefs and values and he will forever be a superhero to me as a cousin. 

Alice Braziller

We were fortunate to be able to vacation with Peter and Andy on numerous occasions. We say lucky because when we let them take the lead, we found ourselves in many wondrous places. They turned us on to life in the Eco Village in St. John’s in the Caribbean where we stayed in tents that had a living room, bedroom, an open air kitchen and deck that looked out on rolling green hills dotted with lush trees and a view of the bluest waters and not so far away islands. From our little perches, we could hike down the hill to snorkel and swim and picnic and plan future adventures.  

And there were many: a fabulous beach vacation in Eleuthera in the Bahamas where Pete and Andy found a sweet bungalow with steep steps that lead to our very own blue green swimming grotto; in Costa Rica we rented a house without walls. 

In the summer, we’ve made sure to book our Cape Cod rentals the same week in August for the past ten years. Pete and Andy had a rule about this week—they always had to do something new or visit a new place.

One summer this meant a bonfire on the beach (which also meant waiting on line at the town office at 6 A.M. to reserve a spot on the beach).  It was usually Pete who did the waiting and organizing the firewood and snacks. We were happy to take a back seat on this one. One cloudy beach day Pete taught us a simple game to keep us warm that involved teams and picking rocks and lines in the sand our rocks had to cross. It’s a game we continue to play on cloudy beach days when the crowds are thin and the water too cold to really enjoy. 

If life on vacation resembled a sleepaway camp, Pete was the head counselor. And like a good leader, he looked out for me, carrying my back pack when a hike got long, rescuing me when I got stuck on the zipline, diagnosing a fractured arm on one of those long hikes, and making sure I iced it until I got home. He was, in short, our big hearted and generous adventure captain with the kindest eyes. He loved the outdoors and we loved it with him. 

Jimmy Braziller

Memories of the Cape:

• Pete showing me how to body surf. The big insight was not being afraid to have the wave start to break on you (a little scary), and not to let it go by you and try to swim after it.

• Pete taking us on an exploration drive on a narrow, rutted, dirt road, down a steep winding hill in Provincetown, wondering whether we would be able to get the car back up.

• Lugging wood with Pete onto the beach in the evening at Coast Guard Beach and sitting around the campfire in the dark with family and friends.

• Visiting Pete and Andy in Cambridge and going for a walk along the Charles River, with Pete telling me how much dough he thought he needed for retirement and that he was just about there. 

• Hiking from our eco lodge in St. Johns with the goal of finding a bar where Pete could watch the Patriots in the play-offs.

  Pete was an all-around good guy. He did meaningful work as a union rep, he was a sportsman, a ceramicist, a lover of the outdoors who was always looking for new places, a good husband to Andy, and a good friend to Alice and me. We miss him.

Michael Braziller

I think about Pete a good deal these days. I regret I didn’t spend more time with him and yet, in hindsight, I feel as if I knew him well, as if there was a deep connection. I’m certain many others felt the same way. 

Yes, I saw the humor, but I remember a kindly humor, and always a good will towards others. He had a warm and gentle intensity, and a kindness. He brought out the best in everyone without overlooking anything. I never knew anyone like him.

Laura Kearns

Janet Haouchine

As a child, I looked up to my cousins Pete and Dave, both one year my senior, and I admired their special bond. As an adult, I saw Pete at important family gatherings, mostly our annual Christmas parties at Aunt Eva's house. It was often the only time I got to see everyone. Pete had a good disposition in life. Every time I saw him he was upbeat, easy to talk to, and a great storyteller. A pretty funny guy too! I miss my cousin.