My friend, Pete Gleason, has left this world and is on to his next adventure. I am bereft that he has left so soon.
Pete was an extraordinary musician, guitar player, song writer. Always with his shaker tied to his foot giving beat to the small drum box, his pork pie hat at a jaunty angle, he would launch into a rouser that would have everyone whooping along. We all knew so many of his songs by heart, our voices would raise, becoming his choir of acolytes. He had a gift that moved people to laughter and tears. Everyone who knew him wanted to sit in when he played, hoping some of his magic would rub off.
He was also one of the best fishermen, really.
“While fishing from the Missouri shoreline of Bull Shoal Lake on the night of February 8, 1991, angler Pete Gleason caught one of the biggest walleye ever recorded by the IGFA – a 8.98-kilogram (19 pounds, 13 ounces) beast has held the men’s 4-kilogram (8 pound) line class world record ever since.
At about 10 PM, Gleason hooked the fish, which he originally thought was a striped bass, after it hit the live minnow he had on for bait. After about 15 minutes, Gleason and his friends were able to get a glimpse of the fish with their flashlights, and realized it was a huge walleye – not a striper.
Gleason backed off the drag and skillfully played the fish for another 20 minutes before he could finally slide the tired fish onto the bank. The fish was weighed 30 hours later and is estimated to have weighed more than 20 pounds at the time of capture.”
His talents were not just music and fishing but he was also a master carpenter, skilled and artistic. His projects shine – as I can personally attest. He gave me the most beautiful kitchen and bathroom I have ever seen.
Pete loved his children and was so proud of them. They were the apples of his eye.
Most of all, he was a loving, dear friend, whose strong hugs I will miss until we meet again.
rose colored glasses
I look at the afterlife
through rose colored glasses
’cause why not
the heaven we wish for
is the heaven we get
and there is no hell
and the love you felt-
from your mom and dad,
from your wife,
when you held your babies,
the time the guitar lick
caused the room to hush
then set it on fire-
all that is just a whisper
of what you will feel
when you inhale here
I love you, Pete.