I'm Michael's step-daughter, Laura. Michael met my mother, Maria, through match.com in the summer of 2005 when I encouraged her to message the astrophysics guy she had been undecided on, and shortly thereafter I met Michael and they came down from the Bay Area to visit me and tour UCSC. Despite his ties with UC Berkeley, it was not until this visit that Michael learned of the extraordinary work in his very own field of astrophysics and astronomy being done there. And so, the very next day, he called up the department and was offered an interview and then ultimately took the job at UCSC with the UC observatories Instrument labs engineering shop, where he worked for the next 15 years, continuing on as a volunteer even after retirement, and directly contributing to building some of the best astronomical instruments ever made on ANY planet.

Miraculously, at this same time, I came across a Craigslist housing post looking for someone "excited about the idea of living in a spiritually-based,... Read more vegan, alcohol and drug-free home" and immediately had it forwarded to Michael, marking the beginning of Michael living with Beth and Golden Love for the next decade, a block away from west cliff drive and the Pacific Ocean.

Living steps away from the iconic steamer lane, Michael started open water swimming and joined Santa Cruz triathlon and other ocean swim clubs becoming a dedicated member, team photographer, and mentor, coaching new swimmers.
Along with his passion for physical activity and engineering was, not surprisingly, a passion for cars and motorcycles. With his motorcycle club, Michael participated in many group tours on his red BMW and for most of the years I knew him always carried an immaculately packed motorcycle bag with all the safety essentials, much like his "daytimer" pocket protector alternative and pens he was always equipped with when in the engineering world.

Michael was a skilled and precise driver and my mom always told me how safe she felt as his passenger, grateful that he was able to share this otherwise inaccessible world of travel with her.

Riveted by the science of electric and ethos of environmental sustainability, Michael eventually sold his gas vehicles and in 2014 became an early adopter of the fully-electric-vehicle with his bright blue and white Kia soul EV, a beacon for friends to spot him around town.

Michael brought a calm, steadfast presence to all of his communities, punctual and reliable, all who knew him quickly learned they could count on his quiet dedication. He really valued and embodied the power of showing up and was a loyal long-term member of men's groups in the east bay and Santa Cruz until his death. A man of service through small actions and consistency, he took seriously and took pride in participation, joining with other men in dedication to the power of community and with the shared intention of accountability, healing and growth.

Invested in health and wellness, he was also a dedicated vegan since 2005, learning much from his sister Jeanette’s expertise as founder of the Wellness Education Center in Montana as well as his housemate, Beth, and the evolution of her passion project “Tastes Like Love” over the course of their 13 years living together.

From exercise to nutrition to spiritual learning Michael had an incredible growth mindset and love ethic, cultivating a mediation practice for over 20 years, attending countless workshops through spirit rock, Esalen, and the human awareness institute, to name a few, and starting his days practicing metta lovingkindness with his dear friend Edith by phone.

Before her death in 2016, my mother would often say that being with Michael felt like being home and in his company she experienced a sense of ease and wellbeing like nothing she had ever known before. She loved him deeply and I will be forever grateful for the incredible gifts of love they gave each other and the care he showed her at the end of her life. I know that having so freshly found the incredible love in each other that they had both long been searching for, the hardest part of leaving this world for her was leaving Michael and she did not want to cause him the pain of having to let her go.

In reflecting on and appreciating Michael’s life, I've learned that over his life while some knew him as Mike, some Michael, some called him “trouble” while others called him "big hug" – however you may have known him, we all will remember his caring presence for the rest of our lives, and through the invaluable gift we have received of having known him, he will continue to bring positivity to our world. Read less

I'm Michael's step-daughter, Laura. Michael met my mother, Maria, through match.com in the summer of 2005 when I encouraged her to message the astrophysics guy she had been undecided on, and shortly thereafter I met Michael and they came down from the Bay Area to visit me and tour UCSC. Despite his ties with UC Berkeley, it was not until this visit that Michael learned of the extraordinary work in his very own field of astrophysics and astronomy being done there. And so, the very next day, he called... Read more up the department and was offered an interview and then ultimately took the job at UCSC with the UC observatories Instrument labs engineering shop, where he worked for the next 15 years, continuing on as a volunteer even after retirement, and directly contributing to building some of the best astronomical instruments ever made on ANY planet.

Miraculously, at this same time, I came across a Craigslist housing post looking for someone "excited about the idea of living in a spiritually-based, vegan, alcohol and drug-free home" and immediately had it forwarded to Michael, marking the beginning of Michael living with Beth and Golden Love for the next decade, a block away from west cliff drive and the Pacific Ocean.

Living steps away from the iconic steamer lane, Michael started open water swimming and joined Santa Cruz triathlon and other ocean swim clubs becoming a dedicated member, team photographer, and mentor, coaching new swimmers.
Along with his passion for physical activity and engineering was, not surprisingly, a passion for cars and motorcycles. With his motorcycle club, Michael participated in many group tours on his red BMW and for most of the years I knew him always carried an immaculately packed motorcycle bag with all the safety essentials, much like his "daytimer" pocket protector alternative and pens he was always equipped with when in the engineering world.

Michael was a skilled and precise driver and my mom always told me how safe she felt as his passenger, grateful that he was able to share this otherwise inaccessible world of travel with her.

Riveted by the science of electric and ethos of environmental sustainability, Michael eventually sold his gas vehicles and in 2014 became an early adopter of the fully-electric-vehicle with his bright blue and white Kia soul EV, a beacon for friends to spot him around town.

Michael brought a calm, steadfast presence to all of his communities, punctual and reliable, all who knew him quickly learned they could count on his quiet dedication. He really valued and embodied the power of showing up and was a loyal long-term member of men's groups in the east bay and Santa Cruz until his death. A man of service through small actions and consistency, he took seriously and took pride in participation, joining with other men in dedication to the power of community and with the shared intention of accountability, healing and growth.

Invested in health and wellness, he was also a dedicated vegan since 2005, learning much from his sister Jeanette’s expertise as founder of the Wellness Education Center in Montana as well as his housemate, Beth, and the evolution of her passion project “Tastes Like Love” over the course of their 13 years living together.

From exercise to nutrition to spiritual learning Michael had an incredible growth mindset and love ethic, cultivating a mediation practice for over 20 years, attending countless workshops through spirit rock, Esalen, and the human awareness institute, to name a few, and starting his days practicing metta lovingkindness with his dear friend Edith by phone.

Before her death in 2016, my mother would often say that being with Michael felt like being home and in his company she experienced a sense of ease and wellbeing like nothing she had ever known before. She loved him deeply and I will be forever grateful for the incredible gifts of love they gave each other and the care he showed her at the end of her life. I know that having so freshly found the incredible love in each other that they had both long been searching for, the hardest part of leaving this world for her was leaving Michael and she did not want to cause him the pain of having to let her go.

In reflecting on and appreciating Michael’s life, I've learned that over his life while some knew him as Mike, some Michael, some called him “trouble” while others called him "big hug" – however you may have known him, we all will remember his caring presence for the rest of our lives, and through the invaluable gift we have received of having known him, he will continue to bring positivity to our world. Read less

Michael Charles Peck was born on May 23rd, 1951 at a US Army hospital in Camp McCauley, Austria. He was the second of five children, and the oldest son of Raymond and Helga Peck. As a military family, they moved frequently, and between continents. Evelyn and Michael were born in Austria, Kenny in California, Jeanette in Germany, and Steve in North Carolina.

In school, Michael’s teachers said had his head in the clouds, that he was a dreamer. At one point, he was tested because they were concerned that he was “slow.” Needless to say, that was not the case.

After graduating from high school, Michael joined the Air Force. Although his primary specialty was Radar Repairman for Air Traffic Control, a position focused on the installation, maintenance, and repair of air traffic control (ATC), weather, and ground aircraft control radar systems, he also learned how to parachute out of planes. When I was in 8th grade, our science classes had an egg drop assignment. We had to create a vessel... Read more of any sort that could be dropped from the roof of the school gym, and keep the egg from cracking. Well, a key part of my design was a parachute. My dad taught me about the physics of a parachute, and then helped me pack my chute, just like he’d learned how back in the air force, so that it would open just right. That egg did not crack.

Michael graduated top of his class as he entered the Air Force, and was able to choose to be stationed in Germany. Decades later, he would tell me about visiting Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin. I was only 4 years old when the Berlin wall came down in 1989, but I vividly remember my dad’s tears in our family room, as the news played on the TV.

After 4 years of service in the Air Force, Michael was honorably discharged, and began his study of Physics at the University of Maryland. This was a special time as Michael, his sister Jeanette and their father Ray were all attending the University of Maryland at the same time.

In this general era Michael also raced cars, was in a band that opened for Christian artist Andrea Crouch, and at some point was even a ski instructor, skiing backwards down the slopes as he taught.

After graduating, Michael went to work at The Goddard Space Flight Center, a major NASA space research laboratory. While working there, he and two other engineers, developed the first Infrared imaging camera that was used to generate the first midwave infrared images of the Becklin Nauugeber object in the Orion constellation. Their team received an award from Goddard for developing this technology many years before NASA had anticipated such a scientific instrument. His fellow engineer, Gerald Lamb, shared with me that, “This achievement was not possible without Michael’s engineering skill, genius, creativity, and professional dedication.

Shortly thereafter, in the early 80’s, Michael came out to California to work at the UC Berkeley Space Sciences Lab. Here, he continued to work on camera systems and became involved in working on observatories such as the Keck telescope on Mauna Kea in Hawaii.

Here in California, he met my mother, Vicki, through a dating service. When he showed up at the door for their first date, my then elementary aged older siblings, Graham and Sara, started shouting, “Mom! He has balloons!” One thing led to the next, and they were wed in 1984, and I was born in 1985. My dad was always great with little kids. He would frequently be the one down on the floor playing with them, fully involved in their little world.

In 1988, he received his MS in EE/CS from UC Berkeley, and, one year later, in 1989, he founded his own company, Berkeley Camera Engineering. Everyone in the family was involved with the business in one way or another, and I remember being about 5 years old sorting computer chips. Graham took so many of the skills that were used at the business and took them into the rest of his career. Everything from soldering circuit boards, to unix admin to web development.

With BCE, he fulfilled contracts for Boeing, Raetheon, Lockheed Martin, and NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory, amongst others. He continued to work on the Keck telescope, and would joke about always packing a parka to go to tropical Hawaii.

In June of 1992, we went to Florida to view the launch of NASA’s Extreme Ultraviolet Explorer (EUVE) spacecraft, which carried my dad’s camera systems. was the first satellite entirely dedicated to short-wavelength ultraviolet light. From 1992 to 2001, its all-sky survey cataloged 801 sources, including the first detection of objects beyond our galaxy in this light. It was amazing for me at age 7 to be as close as possible to the launch of this rocket, and there was a great sense of pride knowing that my dad’s electronics were up in space.

My dad tried to be involved in our day to day lives wherever he could. I remember him losing his balance on a Kindergarten tidepool field trip, and soaking his shoe as we Kindergarteners giggled. When I was in the 3rd grade, my parents came to my classroom, and taught a unit on electricity. We made circuit mazes with tinfoil. In 4th grade, when I was creating a relief map of California, my dad taught me to solder, so I could put in lights that would light up red for somewhere I wanted to go, and green for places I had already been. My mom was often teaching piano lessons after school, and my dad had flexible hours with his business, so he would often be the one to drive me to my afterschool activities. We’d listen to country music, and I’d periodically have the heat blasting on my side of the car while he had the window rolled down on his.

Teaching your teen how to drive is not for the faint of heart, but I remember my dad being patient, calm, and unflappable in those moments. It was only my second hour of driving, when he put me into his stick shift Corvette. Later on, I stalled that same car while trying to get going from a stop light. In my haste to get going, I stalled it more than once, and got incredibly flustered. “What will they think?” “They’ll think you’re learning how to drive a stick shift,” he calmly replied.

My parents divorced when I was in high school. A few years later, Michael met Maria, and introduced me to my now step-sister, Laura and her brother Erik... Read less

Michael Charles Peck was born on May 23rd, 1951 at a US Army hospital in Camp McCauley, Austria. He was the second of five children, and the oldest son of Raymond and Helga Peck. As a military family, they moved frequently, and between continents. Evelyn and Michael were born in Austria, Kenny in California, Jeanette in Germany, and Steve in North Carolina.

In school, Michael’s teachers said had his head in the clouds, that he was a dreamer. At one point, he was tested because they were concerned... Read more that he was “slow.” Needless to say, that was not the case.

After graduating from high school, Michael joined the Air Force. Although his primary specialty was Radar Repairman for Air Traffic Control, a position focused on the installation, maintenance, and repair of air traffic control (ATC), weather, and ground aircraft control radar systems, he also learned how to parachute out of planes. When I was in 8th grade, our science classes had an egg drop assignment. We had to create a vessel of any sort that could be dropped from the roof of the school gym, and keep the egg from cracking. Well, a key part of my design was a parachute. My dad taught me about the physics of a parachute, and then helped me pack my chute, just like he’d learned how back in the air force, so that it would open just right. That egg did not crack.

Michael graduated top of his class as he entered the Air Force, and was able to choose to be stationed in Germany. Decades later, he would tell me about visiting Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin. I was only 4 years old when the Berlin wall came down in 1989, but I vividly remember my dad’s tears in our family room, as the news played on the TV.

After 4 years of service in the Air Force, Michael was honorably discharged, and began his study of Physics at the University of Maryland. This was a special time as Michael, his sister Jeanette and their father Ray were all attending the University of Maryland at the same time.

In this general era Michael also raced cars, was in a band that opened for Christian artist Andrea Crouch, and at some point was even a ski instructor, skiing backwards down the slopes as he taught.

After graduating, Michael went to work at The Goddard Space Flight Center, a major NASA space research laboratory. While working there, he and two other engineers, developed the first Infrared imaging camera that was used to generate the first midwave infrared images of the Becklin Nauugeber object in the Orion constellation. Their team received an award from Goddard for developing this technology many years before NASA had anticipated such a scientific instrument. His fellow engineer, Gerald Lamb, shared with me that, “This achievement was not possible without Michael’s engineering skill, genius, creativity, and professional dedication.

Shortly thereafter, in the early 80’s, Michael came out to California to work at the UC Berkeley Space Sciences Lab. Here, he continued to work on camera systems and became involved in working on observatories such as the Keck telescope on Mauna Kea in Hawaii.

Here in California, he met my mother, Vicki, through a dating service. When he showed up at the door for their first date, my then elementary aged older siblings, Graham and Sara, started shouting, “Mom! He has balloons!” One thing led to the next, and they were wed in 1984, and I was born in 1985. My dad was always great with little kids. He would frequently be the one down on the floor playing with them, fully involved in their little world.

In 1988, he received his MS in EE/CS from UC Berkeley, and, one year later, in 1989, he founded his own company, Berkeley Camera Engineering. Everyone in the family was involved with the business in one way or another, and I remember being about 5 years old sorting computer chips. Graham took so many of the skills that were used at the business and took them into the rest of his career. Everything from soldering circuit boards, to unix admin to web development.

With BCE, he fulfilled contracts for Boeing, Raetheon, Lockheed Martin, and NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory, amongst others. He continued to work on the Keck telescope, and would joke about always packing a parka to go to tropical Hawaii.

In June of 1992, we went to Florida to view the launch of NASA’s Extreme Ultraviolet Explorer (EUVE) spacecraft, which carried my dad’s camera systems. was the first satellite entirely dedicated to short-wavelength ultraviolet light. From 1992 to 2001, its all-sky survey cataloged 801 sources, including the first detection of objects beyond our galaxy in this light. It was amazing for me at age 7 to be as close as possible to the launch of this rocket, and there was a great sense of pride knowing that my dad’s electronics were up in space.

My dad tried to be involved in our day to day lives wherever he could. I remember him losing his balance on a Kindergarten tidepool field trip, and soaking his shoe as we Kindergarteners giggled. When I was in the 3rd grade, my parents came to my classroom, and taught a unit on electricity. We made circuit mazes with tinfoil. In 4th grade, when I was creating a relief map of California, my dad taught me to solder, so I could put in lights that would light up red for somewhere I wanted to go, and green for places I had already been. My mom was often teaching piano lessons after school, and my dad had flexible hours with his business, so he would often be the one to drive me to my afterschool activities. We’d listen to country music, and I’d periodically have the heat blasting on my side of the car while he had the window rolled down on his.

Teaching your teen how to drive is not for the faint of heart, but I remember my dad being patient, calm, and unflappable in those moments. It was only my second hour of driving, when he put me into his stick shift Corvette. Later on, I stalled that same car while trying to get going from a stop light. In my haste to get going, I stalled it more than once, and got incredibly flustered. “What will they think?” “They’ll think you’re learning how to drive a stick shift,” he calmly replied.

My parents divorced when I was in high school. A few years later, Michael met Maria, and introduced me to my now step-sister, Laura and her brother Erik... Read less

Michael was a caring, compassionate, and affectionate man whose way of expressing it was through acts of service. He was a helper to so many in so many ways.
For well over 20 years Michael helped me with all sorts of computer things. He’d helped me select the appropriate systems for both my office and my home, install them and then make sure it had the software on it that I’d need for that particular use, and then make sure I learned how to use it all. And whenever I had a “confuser” problem, Michael helped me. He was my “smart friend” who helped solve so many “confuser” issues for me, and I know that he did the same for many many friends over the years.
Michael was very often there if a friend had distressing problem. As an example, when a disabled friend and her friend were on a road trip there was a klitch in their plans, so Michael flew up to Seatle and drove his friend back to Santa Cruz; they had an unplanned nice three-day road trip. Michael was there to ... Read morehelp.
When Michael visited with friends (he had many friends) he usually brought his tool kit with him so that he could do various fix-it projects for them. For instance, for one friend he re-wired several lamps, set up her smart TV, taught her how to scan documents, strengthened the aging patio furniture, installed a lock on a window, re-hung a double-hung window, and so much more. Michael was such a helper.
In addition to being a brilliant camera engineer, Michael was a talented photographer. He volunteered to memorialize important life events for many friends – weddings, birthdays, reunions, parties, and so many more. After taking lots of photos of an event, he would artistically edit all the photos and then present his friends with a beautiful set of memorial photographs.
Michael loved the Santa Cruz Triathlon Club. He loved both the running, cycling, and swimming, and he loved the friends and colleagues who were participating with him. As his ability to participate in the athletics diminished, he began paddling with the swimmers as they swam around the wharf, making sure they were all safe and being there when a swimmer needed help. He also bought a nice water-proof camera and began taking photographs of swimmers. After each day’s swim he’d go back to his computer and artistically edit all the photographs and then upload them onto the club’s website. At the club’s celebration of Michael’s contributions it was estimated that he had paddled around the wharf with the swimmers about 750 to 800 times.
Michael expressed his care, compassion, and affection through his innumerable acts of service, helping others for so long and in so many ways. So, in remembering Michael:
May we all be free from enmity and danger and be safe.
May we all be free from mental suffering and be happy.
May we all be free from physical suffering and be healthy.
May we all take care of ourselves happily, and may our lives unfold with ease, peace, and many delights. Read less

Michael was a caring, compassionate, and affectionate man whose way of expressing it was through acts of service. He was a helper to so many in so many ways.
For well over 20 years Michael helped me with all sorts of computer things. He’d helped me select the appropriate systems for both my office and my home, install them and then make sure it had the software on it that I’d need for that particular use, and then make sure I learned how to use it all. And whenever I had a “confuser” ... Read moreproblem, Michael helped me. He was my “smart friend” who helped solve so many “confuser” issues for me, and I know that he did the same for many many friends over the years.
Michael was very often there if a friend had distressing problem. As an example, when a disabled friend and her friend were on a road trip there was a klitch in their plans, so Michael flew up to Seatle and drove his friend back to Santa Cruz; they had an unplanned nice three-day road trip. Michael was there to help.
When Michael visited with friends (he had many friends) he usually brought his tool kit with him so that he could do various fix-it projects for them. For instance, for one friend he re-wired several lamps, set up her smart TV, taught her how to scan documents, strengthened the aging patio furniture, installed a lock on a window, re-hung a double-hung window, and so much more. Michael was such a helper.
In addition to being a brilliant camera engineer, Michael was a talented photographer. He volunteered to memorialize important life events for many friends – weddings, birthdays, reunions, parties, and so many more. After taking lots of photos of an event, he would artistically edit all the photos and then present his friends with a beautiful set of memorial photographs.
Michael loved the Santa Cruz Triathlon Club. He loved both the running, cycling, and swimming, and he loved the friends and colleagues who were participating with him. As his ability to participate in the athletics diminished, he began paddling with the swimmers as they swam around the wharf, making sure they were all safe and being there when a swimmer needed help. He also bought a nice water-proof camera and began taking photographs of swimmers. After each day’s swim he’d go back to his computer and artistically edit all the photographs and then upload them onto the club’s website. At the club’s celebration of Michael’s contributions it was estimated that he had paddled around the wharf with the swimmers about 750 to 800 times.
Michael expressed his care, compassion, and affection through his innumerable acts of service, helping others for so long and in so many ways. So, in remembering Michael:
May we all be free from enmity and danger and be safe.
May we all be free from mental suffering and be happy.
May we all be free from physical suffering and be healthy.
May we all take care of ourselves happily, and may our lives unfold with ease, peace, and many delights. Read less

The Guest House
Jalaluddin Rumi
Translated by Coleman Barks

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

The Guest House
Jalaluddin Rumi
Translated by Coleman Barks

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the... Read more door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond. Read less