Pete died in November 2008, just a few days after his 64^th birthday, and many of us in the Furzedown area will be missing and mourning him for many long years to come.                               

The obituaries in the various quality papers covered familiar biographical background: his Jewish parents, forced to flee Nazi Germany, his academic achievements – Manchester Grammar School, then Oxford and finally a doctorate at Sussex – and then the focus was mainly on his professional life in the energy industry where he rose to the very top, as Commercial Director for Centrica. To many of us this part of Pete’s life, the depth of his involvement and the sophisticated negotiating skills he displayed, was a revelation. We knew something of his importance, we would catch his interviews on Radio 4, but he never name dropped and he had shied away from people knowing about his CBE ‘for services to the gas industry’. In every way he was the very antithesis of ‘the fat cat’.  

So we all knew Pete in different ways. We knew him as a passionate supporter of all that emerged from Manchester, ‘the holy land’ with `the best football team – United of course. We knew him as a committed athlete from the annual London-Brighton bike ride to the more rigorous cycling treks he meticulously planned in various, invariably mountainous, parts of the world. In August of last year he had taken part in the Triathlon, and completed it in his best time yet. All the more painful and ironic that, within weeks, his illness would so reduce him physically.  We knew him as a political activist, a conscientious Labour man prepared to do the donkey work of door to door canvassing and the practical green politics, e.g. his involvement with the Energy Savings Trust and chairing Greenworks. We knew him as a social animal, at a party always with a welcoming word for any new faces as well older friends. Above all perhaps we knew him as a family man: his marriage to Tara was the bed rock of his life and he took such pride in watching his children Nina and Ken grow into adulthood as successful professionals and in happy relationships. To see Pete with, his grandchild, was a joy as he entered so fully, enthusiastically and with endless patience into Gabriel’s world. 

Pete’s illness, the brain degenerative sporadic cjd, was a vicious one although mercifully short.  The way he coped was remarkable, drawing deep on his reserves of strength and good humour he was able to welcome the very many friends who flocked to his bed side and seemed able to follow the conversations, joining in the laughter, almost to the end. When Pete was first ill he went for a walk on the common with a friend. His language was beginning to falter but he was still able to say that while he hoped to recover if he didn’t, well he had lived a full and happy life and had no regrets. Pete was a remarkable person who led a remarkable life and we are all the better for having known him. At this point Pete would snort and wave his hands in dismissal but it happens to be true. Rest in peace.