My deepest condolences to the Wiegmann family – you have always been so kind and hospitable to me – I can’t imagine this burden of grief. I am so sorry for your loss. Your house was like a second home to me growing up and I have so many fond memories of then and always enjoy seeing you.
This is heartbreaking. My friend is gone, and I am devastated I will not see him again. I have so many memories I'd love to share it's hard to limit.
Peter was my best childhood friend. We were lucky we had a solid core group of friends throughout grade school and into high school. Peter and I met at age four at Old Mission preschool. In the early years at Westwood View we had a gang with the other boys called the mini-spies. Our base was a tree that still grows on the playground behind Westwood View. For me, and especially as a kid - Peter was always a step ahead – more intellectual, more sophisticated, more daring and adventurous –willing to take risks for a good time or a good laugh. He was a seeker and I related to that. It drew us together. I was told, early in grade school, a teacher put in a recommendation that we should not be placed in the same class together as we egged each other on.
This lasted until 6th grade. Our kind and unwitting 6th grade teacher sat us next to each other and we caused her plenty of good-natured-but-as-a-grown-up-with-kids-I’m-sure-it-was-infuriating-grief. Once during a vocabulary lesson Peter was out of the classroom for his turn to read his vocabulary word in a sentence. The teacher called on the girl who sat behind him to read his sentence using the word, “emit.” The girl dutifully read aloud the sentence, “He emitted a stench.” The girl blushed, the teacher hung her head, the class erupted with laughter. I couldn’t wait to tell him about it when he got back.
Peter’s influence looms large in my life – his humor, his artistry and music, his love of the absurd, challenging norms and fearlessly being yourself in moments when many would back down. He was energized in those moments and drew from a strength that as a child I hadn’t found within myself yet. He seemed to have it innately.
In 4th grade he asked me join a Dungeons & Dragons group with our other friends. He was a feisty Dungeon Master. In 5th or 6th grade he got a skateboard. I think it had pink grip tape. We started skateboarding and watching Bones Brigade videos. Dr. Wiegmann took us to a skatepark in Wichita – the Wild West Skatepark – and we were in awe. In 7th grade he was the person who introduced me to Nirvana one morning on the school bus. I sat down, and he handed me his yellow headphones and said, “listen to this…”. Mrs. Wiegmann took us to see “The Year Punk Broke” at the Tivoli the next summer.
Now we wanted to start a band. When Peter started playing guitar, he had this cool red Alvarez from the Toon Shop. Soon I had an Alvarez from the same spot. In 8th grade we started what would eventually become an actual band once he returned from Boston after freshman year. As 14-year-olds, we wanted to sound tough – so we called ourselves the Tequila Worms. I remember that year away having several long phone conversations that I’m sure ran up the bill. We talked and schemed on what we were going to do when he got back to Kansas City. Skateboarding, music, bands - I never understood how he found out about these things - but it was always something cool and fun to get into.
We were in Scouts throughout grade school and high school and received our Eagle Scout on the same day in 1994. So much to delve into to adequately cover the scouting memories in one place – but be kind to the Den Mothers and don’t lock each other in lockers during the meetings.
In early high school, on my first real date I went over and picked him just so he could hang out with us too. He found out her father’s name was Monte. The next day while we made prank calls from my parent’s house - he called them saying to put Monte on the line – it was his old chum, Newton P. Downes. They had caller ID and I was busted, but Newton is fondly remembered.
Later we were neighbors in Lawrence. We’d spend evenings composing the most ridiculous songs / nursery rhymes to make each other laugh. In the silliness there was such a deep creativity in him – he drew ideas from seemingly anywhere effortlessly. I was always impressed with his ability.
After we moved away from Lawrence we lost touch over the years, but any reunion was a happy one. During those years – we once met at a traffic light. He promptly pulled over and jumped into my passenger seat - we drove around that day hanging out and talking about music and life. The conversations always picked up where they’d left off no matter the length of time in between. I’ll hang on to that afternoon – it was a good one and ended with us laughing on the beach at the park on a sunny summer day.
Rest well my friend. Thank you for who you were and sharing that with me. I cherish the memories and they become dearer in your absence. I pray that whatever may have haunted you at times has released you to be at peace. Love from me, always. Long live the mini-spies, lego battles, and speaking a language that only a childhood friend would understand. I’ll miss you.
Love to the Wiegmann family from Mike and the Tuley family.
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