The Paul Mortuary


William Creighton Peet III

May 21, 1957January 23, 2018

William Creighton Peet was born on May 21, 1957 in San Francisco, CA and passed away on January 23, 2018 in Salinas, California and is under the care of The Paul Mortuary.

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William Creighton Peet III

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Scott eLLIS

September 5, 2019

Tony and I were cabin mates at Douglas Ranch camp in Carmel Valley in the summers on 1967 and 1968. It was a magical time and Tony was one of a kind down memory lane. Such a playful sense of humor and always so upbeat. I can hear his high happy voice to this day and I always wondered how his life turned out. So sad to hear he was hiding his depression and it would have been so wonderful to see him again before he passed. Tony, I will never forget you!

Ramona Jones

February 9, 2018

It is with great sadness that I write this for I had just emailed Tony this morning to share that I was coming to Esalen for a visit and hoped to be able to share time with him.

Tony and I met at Esalen while working in the office and shared in the journey of relationship for the time that we lived there in the early 1990's. In that year together, we dove deep into what it meant to be in relationship both with ourselves and with one another. One month into our relationship, Tony suggested that we do couples therapy as an exploration. We had weekly sessions for that year and after each session we would go to Deetjens for a Cappuccino, write in our journals and then share about our thoughts and feelings. Tony was a loving, caring man who was devoted to looking deeper into himself and others. We shared in the experience of being coupled at Esalen which at times was fiery and we enjoyed dance, tantra, a nice glass of red, much laughter and many tears too.

Tony was the first human being who when I shared about my painful childhood experiences, said, "I am so sorry that that happened to you". I had never heard those words before and it was Tony's influence that helped me to embark on the healing journey that I did both at Esalen and afterwards.

If you can hear me Tony, I want you to know that you were a dear heart and I am so sorry that you suffered so. I work in Mental Health as a Counsellor and understand all too well the toll that depression can take on a persons' life. Sometimes, the darkness is just too dark and becomes unbearable and living any longer is not possible.
I am deeply saddened Tony to know that you were in such pain.
I love you dear one.

Anne Canright

February 8, 2018

I am so sorry to hear this news. Tony was a gentle, sweet soul whom I was always happy to bump into, however rarely that happened. I will miss him.

February 5, 2018

Tony...It has been almost 4 decades since I have seen your sweet face and heard your funny laugh! I will cherish my memories of the "Green Street Days". We had some wild, fun times in 8th grade! I'm glad that you were part of my life. I hope you are at peace my friend ❤

Joan Henderson

February 4, 2018

I hope Tony knows now how much he meant to me.

This hurts a lot, Tony, more than that snow ball you threw at me at Sugar Bowl...I hope you are with my brother, Jim now, making him laugh as you always did with me....even though our time together was too short, I'll never forget the connection we had. The honesty, the similar thoughts, the longing for more time...Thank you for all you gave me of yourself. I have and always will miss you.


Gretta Ryan

February 3, 2018

I wish I had known Tony as an adult because he clearly grew to be an amazing man. He was a dear childhood friend and I have had many fond memories these last few days since hearing of his passing.

I'm sure he rests in the peace that his earthly presence couldn't give him.

My deepest condolences to his family and friends.


February 3, 2018

I went to Tony's facebook page, and the last entry is a photograph of a hillside of flowers, bright with sunshine. I think he left that for us: to think of him there, chin up, facing the sun.

The school motto at St Mark's was Age Quod Agis: do what you do to the best of your ability. Tony gave everything to the land he loved, the values he cherished, and the future he believed in.

Jack Caspar

February 2, 2018

I remember a good natured guy hiking with us on Mt.Desert Island when we celebrated the birthdays of several family members.

February 2, 2018

Tony was my cousin, next-door neighbor, classmate till tenth grade, and friend. He was in every way precocious, funny, and blessed: a stable family, quick and agile mind, friends in abundance. Had I plotted the trajectory of his life when we last saw each other at a dinner party in 1980, I would never have come to this conclusion. A mutual friend filled in many of the blanks which answered some of the questions left by his death, and enabled me to understand how it might be a triumph, Pyhrric, but victory nonetheless. Which is not easy for me: in my mind's eye I see the anguish on his mother's face as I enter Grace Cathedral for the memorial service of my father, who died by his own hand in 1979 after years of depression. I am so sorry that Tony suffered so much that he found life unendurable. On the face of it he had every advantage, and I've been thinking of him since hearing the news.

He wrote a poem in eighth grade entitled "Little Bug-getta," this being a slug-bait his mother used in her garden.

One weekend he and George Everly drove to Las Vegas in the family car. Not the Jag, the Cougar, if I recall correctly. They were in the eighth grade. Somehow Tony managed to talk his way out of a speeding ticket in Nevada. He told me he'd claimed that he was traveling at a speed that was legal in California. At any rate the cop let them go. But the car had been damaged somehow in the course of their trip, and Tony spread the remains of the headlight in front of the car upon his return. My mother had, however, noticed its absence, and Tony was busted.

He was a charmer of exceptional talent and wit. A former girlfriend, without a trace of criticism, told me she'd found a notebook he kept listing all his girlfriends. Those he'd loved had gold stars next to their names. The epigraph read, " Women are like roller-coasters: once you've tried one, you want to try them all." Realizing in the metoo era this may not qualify as a PC recollection, it still goes to the heart of my memories of Tony, full of life, love, and wonder. Devoid of malice in any form.

There was no darkness in him when I knew him, no hint that he would ever find himself unequal to the challenge of life. He was a lovely man. I am so sad for him and his family. My grandmother, speaking of my father, said that she was glad he was no longer in pain. I hope that Tony's family can see his end in the same light.

Peace Tony. Peace.

Rob Lenahan

January 31, 2018