[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 155 (2009), Part 6]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages 7142-7143]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




                         TRIBUTE TO MAYOR MIKE

                                 ______
                                 

                          HON. JOHN B. LARSON

                             of connecticut

                    in the house of representatives

                       Wednesday, March 11, 2009

  Mr. LARSON of Connecticut. Madam Speaker, I rise to honor the memory 
of a dear friend and one of Connecticut's most dynamic and charismatic 
leaders. He was known universally as Mayor Mike. A great light left us 
when Michael J. Peters passed away on January 4, 2009. His engaging 
personality, his great sense of humor and his devotion to his city, his 
friends and his family, will forever endure.
  I was fortunate to know him and to be a direct beneficiary of his 
friendship and loyalty. I was equally honored to be at his funeral 
surrounded by friends, family and dignitaries, but it was through the 
remarks of his sister Geraldine and his son Chris that the essence of 
this great and beloved man was captured. Madam Speaker, I submit to the 
record of this great Nation these eulogies of Mayor Mike Peters of 
Hartford, Connecticut, a great American and a great example of devotion 
and service above self, done with a smile.

                      Eulogy Given by Chris Peters

       Good morning. I would first like to say on behalf of my 
     mother, my brother, my sister and my entire extended family 
     thank you so much for such a genuine and unbelievable outpour 
     of support over the last several weeks. Your prayers and well 
     wishes helped us all get through this difficult time.
       My father was an example to us children of what hard work 
     is and what it takes to raise a family. For most of our 
     childhood my dad worked two jobs to support our family and to 
     give us a roof over our heads. His main and most notable 
     career was as a firefighter but with the schedule being as it 
     was for a firefighter he had days off that allowed him to 
     bring in additional income. One such job was delivering oil 
     for John McCarthy Oil. Although it was against the oil 
     company's policy, my father would often bring me on 
     deliveries with him and he would let me hold the nozzle as we 
     filled the tanks at people's homes. I remember once the tank 
     had overflowed and I was sprayed from head to toe with fuel . 
     . . that was the end of that. I think he realized at that 
     point why there was such a policy but because he worked so 
     often, any chance he had to hang out with us he took 
     advantage, even if it meant bringing me to work and dousing 
     me in a highly flammable liquid.
       Having a firefighter as a father was such a cool thing as a 
     kid. It's most kids' dream to be a firefighter when they grow 
     up and having him work at Engine 15 right up the street from 
     where we grew up; I was able to show off all the time. Bring 
     my friends into the firehouse and look at the trucks and 
     watch him slide down the pole. He gave us so much to be proud 
     of way before he ever became the Mayor.
       He was an umpire for our little league in the south end (he 
     had a very tight strike zone by the way) and was instrumental 
     in organizing fund raisers for the league and helped shape my 
     love for baseball by making sure my brother David and I were 
     Yankee fans at a very early age. I've been told (mostly by 
     him) that he was quite the ball player when he was younger. I 
     think he was proud of my 4 year career in the McGinley Craffa 
     little league and he was happy to get 4 more years out of 
     David, who by the way, was much better than I. Watching a 
     Yankee game with him on a warm summer night, windows open and 
     a warm summer breeze blowing in, is something my brother and 
     I will sorely miss.
       His bond with my sister Michelle was something very special 
     between a daughter and her father. In High School, Michelle 
     did what a lot of young teenage girls do; she gave our father 
     a lot of grey hairs. Although we joke about the trouble 
     Michelle got into, truth is she wasn't all that bad. Now that 
     I look back on it, it was more the concern my father had for 
     her and the love he felt for his only daughter. Those years 
     of rebellion helped shape a very special bond between the two 
     of them. My father's love and commitment to making sure he 
     showed her the way helped shape Michelle into the incredible 
     person she is. A fantastic mother whose children will most 
     certainly miss their Gampy.
       As my brother and sister and I got older my father 
     transformed into something different. He became our friend, 
     someone you could tell anything to. He was my best friend, 
     the person you wanted to do things with, anything, go to a 
     game, dinner or just drive around the city and talk about 
     anything.
       He married his high school sweetheart Jeannette and if 
     you're not familiar with their relationship I can tell you 
     theirs is one of true love and dedication. My mother spent 
     every day in the hospital over the last 3 months with my 
     father. She has sacrificed so much to sit with him and root 
     him on. She is truly a Saint who lost her true love. My heart 
     will forever be broken for her.
       Most of you here today know how he lived. Vibrant, larger 
     than life, caring, loving and concerned for anyone who needed 
     help. He loved to laugh and make people laugh. He had an 
     incredible ability to find the positive in any situation. 
     Always optimistic with a heart bigger than the city. He kept 
     his home phone number listed after he became the Mayor, he 
     would get all kinds of calls at all hours of the day and 
     night and he would always return the call. No matter how 
     strange the request. One night around midnight or so, he got 
     a call from a woman on Yale St. whose cat was stuck in a 
     tree, she knew my dad was a firefighter and begged him to 
     call the fire department and get them to her house to 
     retrieve her cat from the tree. My father calmed her down 
     from the comfort of his bed, told her the fire department 
     doesn't really do that sort of thing and she should go to bed 
     and that her cat will come down on its own and then he asked 
     her ``by the way, have you ever seen the skeleton of a cat in 
     a tree before?'' The point was well taken and sure enough he 
     called her back the next morning and her cat was ok. This was 
     how he lived, finding humor in situations, compassionate 
     towards the needs of others no matter how extraordinary the 
     request. This is how he lived, with a smile on his face and 
     love in his heart. Now I would like to tell you a little bit 
     about how he died.
       (adlibbed)
       I want you all to know that my father died peacefully this 
     past Sunday surrounded by his family, we were all there and I 
     believe this gave him great comfort. We believe he is in a 
     better place now, no longer suffering.
       Over the last few days many people have been telling me how 
     sorry they are about my father's passing but I'm deeply sorry 
     for all of you as well. I feel like we are all in the same 
     boat. Not only did my family lose a father, grandfather, 
     brother, uncle, husband but we all lost a true champion, a 
     best friend and a confidant. The pain in my heart is no 
     greater than yours. I know this because he meant so much to 
     so many and together we will all heal by remembering him as 
     he was. Happy-go-lucky Mike.
       His legacy should be carried out by supporting Hartford, 
     eating in its restaurants (hint, hint . . . plug) and getting 
     involved, seeing something that's wrong and doing something 
     about it. He always said no matter if you live in 
     Wethersfield or West Hartford, Simsbury or Rocky Hill, this 
     is your city. We all need to harness his enthusiasm and do 
     our part no matter how big or small because that's truly what 
     he would want. God Bless you Dad and Go Hartford.

                   Eulogy Given by Geraldine Sullivan

       There were two princes born on Nov. 14, 1948; Prince 
     Charles and our prince, Michael Paul Peters, the firstborn 
     son of Christine and Paul. Michael, Paula, Eleanor, Robert 
     and I were raised in an apartment down the street, at 189 
     Campfield Avenue, surrounded by a loving, extended family. 
     This is the neighborhood where my grandfather owned a tailor 
     shop, where we attended church before gathering for late 
     afternoon meals, and where my parents instilled values in 
     each of us that would carry throughout our lives: the 
     importance of family, respect, compassion, and humor. Despite 
     our family's limited resources, envy was not tolerated. 
     Ultimately, my brother Michael exemplified these values 
     better than any of us, even though he had his own unique way 
     of showing it.
       At a young age Mike was able to come up with creative 
     solutions to solve life's most difficult problems. I remember 
     when Michael first entered kindergarden at Naylor School. On 
     his way to and from school, there was a group of first grade 
     thugs who would taunt Mike and threaten him. When he told my 
     parents about the situation, my father spent the evening 
     teaching him how to box and defend himself when attacked. It 
     was a priceless father-son moment. The next day, my father 
     rushed home from work to hear the news. When asked if he was 
     bullied again, Mike answered, ``No''. My father proudly 
     asked, ``Well . . . what happened?'' Mike was equally proud 
     when he responded, ``I took a different route home from 
     school''. That was my brother's way throughout his life. He 
     thought of creative solutions. For example, he worked closely 
     with Don Walsh to develop Mayor Mike's Companies for Kids, 
     where they raised $1 million for youth programs in Hartford.
       Another one of Mike's greatest attributes was his ability 
     to treat all people with respect. My father, Paul, was 
     unusual for his time in his ability to reach across racial 
     and economic barriers to show respect for others. In fact, he 
     was so concerned about respect, he enlisted Michael to attend 
     proms and dances with any girl who had circumstances that 
     prevented her from having a date. My parents' friends soon 
     learned of this, so when

[[Page 7143]]

     someone's daughter was left without a date to the prom, they 
     called Paul and Christine. Michael attended proms and dances 
     all around the region. Even though renting a tux and buying 
     flowers was difficult on a meager family budget, Mike put on 
     his tux and attended without complaint. He treated every girl 
     like she was the prom queen. He always had an amazing gift of 
     making people feel special, as witnessed by us over the last 
     few days. Our family has been overwhelmed by the tremendous 
     outpouring from people of all races, ages, and socioeconomic 
     backgrounds and their stories about our brother. Throughout 
     his life, Mike made powerful connections with people because 
     he treated them with dignity and respect.
       A third attribute that I'd like to mention about my brother 
     was his ability to get the job done. I remember when he had a 
     paper route, delivering the afternoon paper of the Hartford 
     Times. Every evening when we sat down to dinner, the phone 
     rang with people looking for papers that were never 
     delivered. My father lectured him every night about the 
     importance of being reliable and having a good work ethic. 
     Eventually the phone stopped ringing during dinner and my 
     father was proud that his son finally learned good business 
     practices. Then one day, my parents were driving home from 
     work and their car was stopped at the light on the corner of 
     Preston and Campfield Avenue. When my father looked out the 
     window, he saw the top of the green city sand box slowly 
     rise. Michael was hiding inside and peering out at the exact 
     same moment. They quickly realized that Mike franchised out 
     his route to ten workers while he laid in a sand box hiding 
     and still managed to make a profit. As mayor, Mike knew how 
     to enlist the talents of various people to get the job done. 
     His work with John Wardlaw, federal agencies, and community 
     groups resulted in tremendous improvements in the quality of 
     public housing in Hartford.
       There are countless stories about Mike's childhood, his 
     days as a fireman, and of course, as mayor of Hartford. The 
     best way to honor him is to share his stories, laugh often, 
     and live by these same attributes that defined my brother: 
     love of family, respect for all, and compassion towards 
     others. One of his favorite sayings was, ``you don't have the 
     biggest house on the block by tearing everyone else's house 
     down''. Michael could not stand seeing people treated 
     unfairly, and at times he took on unpopular political battles 
     to correct what he felt was wrong. To continue his legacy, 
     have the courage to stand up against injustice and work 
     together to make Hartford, this city that Mike loved with his 
     heart and soul, a place where all people are treated with 
     dignity and respect.
       In closing, I'd like to take a minute to say something, on 
     behalf of my entire family about the love of Mike's life, our 
     sister Jeannette. They met in high school and were perfect 
     for each other from the moment they met. Although he loved to 
     go out and be social, while she was content sitting home 
     under a blanket watching her favorite shows, they had deep 
     love and respect for one another. Jeannette has always been 
     the light of my brother's life. Her unwavering devotion was 
     especially obvious over the last three months. She was there 
     with him, by his side . . . holding his hand . . . praying 
     with him. In the last few weeks, when he couldn't speak, his 
     eyes would search the room looking for her, and he only found 
     peace and comfort when he found her. They're the perfect love 
     story and she remained by his side until his last moments on 
     earth. Jeannette, we love you and thank you for making our 
     brother so happy.

                          ____________________