In Memory of Pete Duerfeldt
June 30, 1930-Feb. 22, 2011

I first met Pete more than two decades ago, at his house, when my wife Robin and I were still newlyweds and finding our way in the world. The first thing he did? Make Robin hold a snake -- the sweat dripping down her arms and her heart ready to thump right out of her chest -- just so she'd know what it felt like.

Pete loved life. Not just his life. But every living thing's life. Sometimes I wondered how he could be so full of feeling for things. In fact, if I am honest, I must admit that I remember thinking to myself after that first meeting 20 or so years ago: "Can this guy be for real?"

No one can come off so happy, honest and energetic all the time, I thought. And the guy is always giving out these big guffaws of laughter. He's obviously putting on an act for everybody.

Little did I know that Pete was not an actor on a stage. Pete didn't live
that way. He put all of his real self out there, all the time, for everyone
to see.

He didn't care to tell you about his accomplishments. He was working hard, every day, even at the end, to live right now.

It was not unusual for Pete to interrupt a conversation or a get-together with a huge bellow or laugh of "whoa" or "come look at this!" Running over, taking time out from your "busy day," you'd be greeted with news that "A squirrel just jumped way over from the back fence to that tree!" or "Look at how that cardinal is sitting on that wire just waiting his turn at the feeder."

Life was about moments for Pete. Not minutes.

For Robin and I, many of those moments featured him as the surrogate grandfather he was to our kids. Sometimes it was letting our little boys Jacob, Lucas and Ben happily punch his stomach so hard you thought a watermelon had been slammed to the floor. Sometimes it was ribbing one of them, repeatedly, that they were eating cheese and macaroni, not macaroni and cheese. Sometimes it was showing how much he loved them, with something as simple as hand-wrapping more than 40 different little dinosaur toys, just so the boys would have as many packages as possible to open on Christmas.

Sometimes it was something more nuanced, as when he decided that he would spend as much time as possible with our oldest son, Jacob -- then just two -- so that Jacob wouldn't feel left out of the picture when Lucas was born.

When he wasn't over at our place doing things like that, he was giving Robin and I shoulder- or foot-rubs so we could end another hectic day as young parents with a peaceful, easy feeling.

Pete loved the world and the people in it. He especially loved anything and anyone who showed respect for the planet. He wore t-shirts heralding the beauty of mother earth. He drove for hours back and forth to BEAKS in the Timucuan Preserve, just to donate old towels so that each rescued bird could get cleaned up properly. He watched trees and bushes sway in the wind. He eyed birds and lizards singing and fighting. He listened to nature. Mostly, he didn't try to shove his way into the world, but just to be in it.

I remember one day years ago that I talked with Pete about a personal development course I'd taken. One exercise in the class involved mentally picturing a pleasant place you could go to, whenever you needed, to take the edge off your stress.

Pete had taken that same course. In fact, he'd encouraged me to sign up for it.

"Oh, I remember that exercise," he told me. "I did that. I built myself a beautiful, beautiful house with a mountain, and trees and flowers all
around, and I go to it whenever I want."

You didn't just build that house, Pete. You did everything you could to help build and leave a beautiful world for all those you came in contact with. And we are all so much better for it.

You were no act, Pete Duerfeldt. You were the real deal.

A good man, who contributed to so many. How lucky I count myself to have known him. Pat you are in my thoughts and prayers. Peggy

Pat, Mom told of us Pete's passing.  We are so sad for your loss and know he is entertaining the angels with his antics now.  I'm sure dad and Jim are happy to see him:)  Linda and Gordon Reynolds

I know Pete is in a better place now, I will always remember his enthusiasm.  Mom and I send you our deepest sympathies.

We are sending our prayers to you Pat.  Pete was a longtime friend and we will miss him.  Love, David and Pat Balanky

I Am Saddened To Learn Of A Very Good Friend Passing,He Will Remain In My Memory As A Caring And Helpful Person,It Was A Pleasure To Know And Work With Him At Habijax Bunky Johnson

OBITUARY

Clifford H. Duerfeldt Jr.

June 30, 1930 – February 22, 2011

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