Jordan B. Peck

Jordan Brice Peck of Portland, Oregon was born on April 12th 1988. He left his physical body for eternal life on December 2nd 2020 as he wrapped his arms around his mother and sister, while his daughter wrapped her arms around him. He was 32 years old. His spirit is carried on by his daughter, 12 year old Naomi Peck, his sister Camille Peck, his half sister Immy Peck, his mother Marcine Salgado Kniss and his father Monty Peck, as well as his grandparents Rev. Luis and wife, Lidia Escoto and grandparents Betty Peck of Oregon and Bob Peck of Arizona in addition to many cousins, and the likely hundreds of people who considered him a friend. He was preceded in death by his grandparents, Paul and Jessie Salgado.

Due to COVID-19 restrictions the service held is limited to close family and friends (maximum of 25 people, the family will connect with those that can attend). The funeral will be live streamed for those unable to attend. Flowers can be sent to Finley Sunset Hills on day of service.

We are blessed to learn many valuable lessons by Jordan in his short 32 years of life, among them: Always be best friends with your sibling. Tell your mom that you love her at least 10 times a day. Be so sweet to your daughter one hundred percent of the time, but it’s okay to sternly say her name if she argues with her mom. Forgive people. Love and listen to all types of music. Find your passions and practice them often. Befriend many people, from all walks of life. Never judge. Even if you can’t skateboard anymore, practice on a tech deck. Collect small things, just because they are cute. Even if you are sick and talking is painful, make sure your big love knows she was your big love. Pray often. Sugar free gatorade is not cool. Calzones are the best. You can tattoo the top of your own hand. Make sure you stay looking fly. Make people laugh as often as you can. Be goofy. Make sure you always have seventeen beverage options nearby. When you are scared to tell your daughter’s mom something, tell your daughter and ask her to keep it a secret, knowing she won’t keep it a secret and the message will be delivered. Grandmother’s are essential. Art is important. Fight like hell.

As a child Jordan never cried, never got in trouble. At the age of three he could do adult puzzles. He was smart and funny. His grandmother, Jessie Salgado, did non profit work, supporting women and children impacted by domestic violence and incarceration. After an illness that impacted her ability to drive, Jordan would go all over the city of Portland on the bus with her to help her continue her work, feeding people in need, giving out clothing, socks, and coats to those impacted by homelessness. He loved doing this with her and even talked about his love of these times when he was 12 years of age at her funeral. It is Jessie that taught him that everyone was equal, that everyone was in need at some time.

When Jordan was almost three his baby sister, Camille, was born. Jordan’s lifelong best friend without a doubt was his sister. He was her protector and she his. They were truly peanut butter and jelly, their mother, the bread that wrapped around them. Jordan would make sure to know the answers to every question Camille had and if he didn’t, he would quickly google it and pretend that he knew. He wanted Camille to “be his legs to skate,” and would make sure she knew everything about skateboarding, quizzing her and telling her she had three seconds to answer. He even taught her how to kickflip. Jordan’s life was altered dramatically and unfairly in August of 2012 as the victim in a shooting that left him paralyzed from the waist down. For the past eight years, Camille has been by her brother’s side all hours of every day, caring for him, making sure he was comfortable, warm, and fed. This allowed their mother to work, caring for them both when she got home. Jordan and Camille would go on all sorts of adventures together. He would ride in his electric wheelchair and pull Camille behind him on her roller skates. They had no shame in their game. They were truly a brother and sister pair unlike any other.

Jordan was also mama’s boy. His love for his mom was larger than life. Even as an adult, after he had been paralyzed, Jordan would get excited when his mom got home from work. “Mom’s home!” he would yell. As a child, when Camille would be out catching garden snakes, Jordan would be inside baking cookies with his mom.

Jordan was also a fighter. He was headstrong. He got these qualities from his dad.

If you knew Jordan, you knew he had big love for his people. Jordan made everyone he knew feel like they were the most important person in the world. He loved people from all walks of life. He did not hold grudges. He did not judge. His heart was pure gold. Jordan had more passions than most people. He loved skateboarding. Even after he was left paralyzed he would spend hours watching skateboarding videos and playing with tech decks. He shared, toward the end of his life, that being a professional skateboarder is what he wished he could have done. Jordan was an artist. He could draw beautiful and detailed pieces of art in minutes. His art teacher in high school said that Jordan was “the most talented student she ever had.” He was a musician. He loved all types of music and you could find him listening to anyone from David Bowie to Mac Dre to Suicide Silence. Jordan was a tattooer, tattooing the people he loved and even himself.

Most of all, Jordan was a father. Jordan loved his daughter Naomi more than he loved anything. She is the spitting image of her daddy and shares his incredible artistic and musical talent. She also shares his kind spirit, goofy personality, and love of soft blankets. They loved watching movies together (their favorite being Hotel Transylvania … strong emphasis on favorite), drawing, coloring, and just being in the company of each other. Jordan taught Naomi many things including how to make the best quesadilla, that rice-a-roni is actually quite incredible, the first Hotel Transylvania is the best one, and to stay brave. One time when Naomi was watching Jordan draw she said “I could never do that.” He said “You can do that, you just need to connect a bunch of small lines.” Jordan was the love of his daughter’s life and she was so proud to be his daughter. In Kindergarten, when her teacher drew a family on the board, 5-year-old Naomi raised her hand and said “You drew the daddy wrong, my daddy is in a wheelchair.” Naomi was never embarrassed about who her dad was. Jordan’s last four months of life included many days with Naomi and her mom, Britni. Jordan would tell his mom “This is all I ever wanted. It’s a miracle. I prayed someday we would all be together and we are.”

One of Jordan’s biggest fears was to “become just a memory.” Please continue to hold him in your hearts and in your stories. Please take him with you on your travels and to concerts and share him with your families. Take him to the ocean and to the skatepark. Think of him when you make art and music.

Our family would like to thank everyone who has supported us during this difficult time. Jordan was so loved and it has been heartwarming to see our community come together.