Pete was an inspiration to all who knew him. He was a plumber and did a lot of work for those who were in hard situations. Some of these were people whose landlords refused to make repairs, or who had lost jobs, or for various reasons were struggling with money or other circumstances. He would provide the labor for free, and many times would provide the parts and supplies. Sometimes he would come home with a box of home-grown produce - that was usually all ready starting to get mushy or ready to spoil. My grandmother would fret about how they were going to pay the electric bill. And he would always say something like, "Now, Grandma, we are blessed that we have our house. And everything works out, it always does." And she'd go on a bit more. Then he'd say something like, "They had children. And no running water. Tell me you would've done it differently." And of course she couldn't. He was always right, too. We didn't have much and our money was tight, but we were always okay, and it always worked out somehow. The testimony came at his funeral when he died. The chapel was packed, standing room only. People were standing in the back and in the aisles, and even out in the foyer because they couldn't get in. Lines of people came up to our family to tell us how much he had meant to them, and what a difference he had made in their lives. They each had different stories to tell about how he had helped at a time that was hard for them. Many people we had not seen in many years, since we grandchildren were young even. They said they had to come and make sure we knew. The true testimony was the man, his life and how he lived. We all miss him more than words can say.