My condolences to Peter's family. 

Peter will always hold a special place in my heart. As my bus was driving away from desert school, Peters last POST trip, he ran for as long as he could next to the bus while waving goodbye and showing affection to everyone. He was such a strong leading figure to me and everyone else on the bus that, when we saw tears streaming down his cheeks, we all started crying with him. 

We send our deepest condolences to Ginger, Bob, Sophie, Charlie, Oscar, your whole family, and everyone who loved Peter. We are grateful Sarah met Peter in Seattle, but heartbroken by his passing.

Melissa Murphy and Sam Wilkins,  Sarah,  Grace, and Sam Wilkins  

I’m so sorry for your loss.

I met PK through climbing at USC, and spent the spring of 2021 learning how to surf with him. I was always struck by his kindness, his cleverness, and his love of adventure and being active. He helped motivate me in my final year at USC to get outdoors more and appreciate the natural spaces of Socal. He had such a love for the outdoors, it was infectious and hard not to get excited about hiking and climbing in nature as well. 

He was an amazing person and an awesome friend, and I will cherish the time I got to spend with him.

I can’t quite put my finger on when exactly I met Peter. Not only did his reputation precede him, he was also someone who you could know for a minute and feel like you’ve known a lifetime. Peter ran the POST trip Survival the year after I did, and in his yearbook sign off, he not only signed his name PK Rappz true to form, but he also warned me to expect a number of calls from him because he had “no clue how to run this thing lolz.” I, of course, did not receive a single call or question from him regarding survival. He already knew what to do. Not that any of us would have ever doubted that. 

The calls I did receive in the following years, however, were during long stretches of solo road trips, just wanting to chat, check in, and get some book or music recommendations, along with sharing what new song he was working on learning to play on the guitar (usually Townes Van Zandt, or John Prine). Peter’s calls were never calls that I would miss - when he called, it was a call to answer, and they were answered with joy and excitement to hear about where he was in the world, and what adventure he was going on. It always felt like such a treat and an honor to be someone he thought of to give a ring. I always left those calls feeling brighter and energized, with new music to listen to, and new books to read. 

PK and I both ended up at USC after high school, and one of the fondest and most encapsulating PK memories of mine was him flying past me on his campus on his bike, Chameleon cold brew and Trader Joe’s wrap in hand - I yelled “PK!!” as he went past and waved, and he instantly wheeled around and jumped off his bike to give me a big hug and had some quip along the lines of “fancy seeing you here,” followed by, “what are you doing now? Do you have to be anywhere? Wanna sit with me while I eat this wrap?” I said yes, and we walked over to the grass and plopped down and just sat and talked and laughed. Though such a simple moment, it is one that I remember with such sweetness. I treasure the person that Peter was - someone who would stop what he was doing to say hi and talk, no matter what else was going on, or if it meant we’d be late to class, and someone who you would always do the same for. I, along with so many others, hold all of these memories and photos so tight, and will miss him so very dearly.

I had the joy of going on several POST trips with PK but my favorite memory was when he and Sydney led my team at desert school in 2018. Their enthusiasm and goofiness made Team 5 some of the most chaotic fun I've ever experienced. Whether it was encouraging us to try a new climbing route, fully commit to our skit, or pitching his "desert school challenge" (of only eating otter pops and lemonade powder for the whole week), his energy was infectious. 

His unwavering belief in the people around him made us braver, kinder, and more connected with each other, which was probably the greatest gift he could have given a group of somewhat apprehensive kids starting out in high school. That week was one of my biggest highlights of high school and what led me to POST for the next four years, and I am grateful to have known him. 

It will take me a long time to process what happened. I'm sure for many of us it is not easy to express condolences or feelings in these circumstances. 

When I met Peter this July for the first time in a while, he struck me in so many ways. I felt so happy to connect with him now that we are both adults. I looked forward to making memories as a family and as an adult. I felt so excited for him in the future and so captivated by how he has grown up to be since we were kids. I recall sitting in the car with him and chatting, thinking I needed to write down something he said casually. I did not do it. I thought it was so smart and simple. 

I got him a book for his birthday about a young man searching for his purpose. The young man goes to medical school and discovers his passion for helping others. I loved it and thought he would too. I will miss him dearly for a very long time and grieve the contributions he would have made in the future to all of our lives and the lives of others who will never have a chance to meet him. 

A quote from the book, Of Human Bondage by W. Somerset Maugham: 

His habit of reading isolated him: it became such a need that after being in company for some time he grew tired and restless; he was vain of the wider knowledge he had acquired from the perusal of so many books, his mind was alert, and he had not the skill to hide his contempt for his companions' stupidity. They complained that he was conceited; and, since he excelled only in matters which to them were unimportant, they asked satirically what he had to be conceited about. He was developing a sense of humour, and found that he had a knack of saying bitter things, which caught people on the raw; he said them because they amused him, hardly realising how much they hurt, and was much offended when he found that his victims regarded him with active dislike. The humiliations he suffered when he first went to school had caused in him a shrinking from his fellows which he could never entirely overcome; he remained shy and silent. But though he did everything to alienate the sympathy of other boys he longed with all his heart for the popularity which to some was so easily accorded. These from his distance he admired extravagantly; and though he was inclined to be more sarcastic with them than with others, though he made little jokes at their expense, he would have given anything to change places with them.

Initially wrote this as a speech to give at open mic but was not really in a state to do that so will post here: 

I am incredibly grateful to had have the privilege of knowing Peter in high school at Garfield, where we met as outdoor education staff members of POST 84. I recall that in our freshmen year, this group could be quite intimidating at times, and was difficult to break into without having years of outdoor experience under one’s belt. By our senior year, we had welcomed countless students onto their first ever hike, camping trip, or climbing expedition, prioritizing inclusivity, confidence, and patience. There is no doubt in my mind that this shift would not have occurred without Peter. Though he was our most technically proficient and experienced staff member (maybe in the history of the program!), he was relentlessly passionate about ensuring there were as few barriers to access as possible and went out of his way to work out how we could make this a reality for years to come. One result of these efforts came to fruition in February of 2019, where all of the participants for a winter camping and snowshoeing trip (“Siberia”) that I led were female — a huge milestone given that this was one of our most daunting (and coldest) trips. All of the accompanying staff members were also women, except Peter and our friend Jacob. They assured me they would “blend into the background” and I wouldn’t even notice they were there. So, you could imagine my surprise when, after a grueling day of ascending, they did not pull out a tent, but rather an impressive array of sirloin steaks. By some miracle, they cooked their steak dinner on a fire they managed to make despite the damp winter conditions and opted to sleep in a snow cave they made. If it had been anyone else, I would have been irritated at this display of masculine mischief, but Peter somehow pulled this off in a manner that solely exuded a sense of infectious joy, silliness, and adventure — all while demonstrating top tier fire-making and cave-building prowess to our wide-eyed campers. On our final trip on Desert School of 2019, we finally got to be “team staff” together, leading our team of ten students to the various stations. When our team completed their first hike, which was the first ever hike for many of them, I had never seen Peter so excited. He could surely do the sub-1-mile trek backwards and in his sleep, but he lit up with unparalleled enthusiasm and pride at their accomplishments. I am sure that all of our students who returned to POST did so because of his leadership and empowerment, and that they all still remember him to this day. In the three years that followed our graduation, I continued to work in the outdoor industry — guiding in the White Mountains, Alaska, and Iceland. But I never again had a partner in crime like Peter, and I know I never will. I carried the love and lessons I gleaned from him to each summit, across every tumultuous storm and river crossing, to the assortment of stern talking-tos saying, no, you cannot have a Red Bull at 10pm. A teenager pooped his pants two miles in? Skunk got stuck in a tent? Van battery died? What would Peter do? Forgot the stove? Route was flooded? Kid needs to be evacuated to get stitches? What would Peter do? Though we lost touch during college, with Peter on the west coast and myself on the east, he nevertheless remained a subconscious presence in the back of my mind — giving me confidence, telling me everything would work out, reminding me to take a step back and see all that I was so grateful for. More than anything, I’m so appreciative that we got to reconnect in late summer of last year, exchanging stories and adventures from our respective years apart. (Which all began with a text out of the blue from him that just said “Drinks?”) I was weeks away from moving to the U.K. to start my master’s degree, and I could tell that he sensed my apprehension at being so far from everyone I know and love. But he was so excited for me, and you could just see the glint in his eyes at this opportunity for adventure — even though it wasn’t his own. He was grinning ear to ear and wearing one of the five t-shirts he’d had on rotation since I first met him. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “You always have been.”