Peter J. Pantazes

Our beloved father, Peter James Pantazes passed away at 3:40 am on May 29, 2015 from

pancreatic cancer surrounded by his family and loved ones. There are some people who fill a space in our hearts that is at once so irreplaceable and so tender as to be hard to put into words. He was a dad, a Papou, a brother, an uncle, an engineer , and a loyal friend. The constancy and loyalty he provided in his every relationship was a true gift.

We want to celebrate his life with a memorial service as follows:

When: June 6, 2015 at 11:00 am

Where:La Palma Christian Center

8082 Walker Street

La Palma, California 90623

Peter James Pantazes was born June 21, 1928, the middle child of 3, in Altoona, Pennsylvania. His father James John Pantazes was born in Aspropyrgos, Greece immigrating to the United States through Ellis Island. His mother, Agnes Hamberis, was born in Megalopolis, Greece on August 19, 1899. His parents wed in the United States and bore his older sister Sophie May 27, 1925 and a younger brother Angelo James born February 11, 1932. Greek tradition is that the sons have the fathers name for a middle name, a tradition that later was followed at my brothers birth.

The 5 member family sustained itself by the family business in the food service industry. Life was tough as they worked hard to establish themselves in America. Early on in my dads life, a tragedy struck around the age of 4 when, in a moment of unsupervised play, he accidentally caused a fire that burned down the family home and business by being intrigued by the fire under the candy melting pan and lighting small pieces of papers on fire that eventually led to engulfing flames. Though he was far too young to bear any responsibility for his actions, my dad went through his whole life with deep remorse over this, the depth of which was heartbreaking to me as I spoke to him about it often trying to remove the stain of guilt. When his first grand daughter was at that age, I asked him what if Paige did the same thing, would you think it was her fault and he answered of course not, but still he could never relinquish his belief that he set his family back which engraved a debt on his heart. This was a defining moment for his life and one that he is forgiven for in all ways as he now rests fully forgiven in Heaven.



My dad spoke only Greek until his entrance into primary school where he learned to speak English by the very necessity of not understanding anything that was said by those around him. Even at a young age, dad showed a propensity for mechanical aptitude and, like his father, was a precise renderer of images. An accomplished athlete and lifelong lover of sports, he played many sports including football, track, basketball, tennis and table tennis. The family did not have money for university so my dad entered the armed services at the end of World War II to receive the GI bill to finance his higher education. He was lucky that he never saw combat but was in the army stationed in Japan at the end of the war as the chief book keeper of the huge warehouses where the United States confiscated all the plunder from Japan that was due them by peace agreement. My dad, even then, was a master organizer of information and a precise mind.



He returned to enter Penn State to study Mechanical Engineering leaving his studies for one year to take care of the family restaurant when his father passed away suddenly. He returned the next year while his brother Ange took his year off his college studies to help at home while dad returned to finish his degree. Graduating as a professional engineer with an interest in heat transfer, he landed a job with Westinghouse. Around the age of 30, he was eating frequently in a restaurant as all good bachelors do when he met my mom, Gloria Mary Sackett, a daughter of two Italian immigrants. If you know anything at all about the 7 Sackett or Saccetti children, you know I can never reveal her year of birth as they were all intensely private about their age to their deathbeds. My dad met my mom while she was married to another man. Eventually, my mom divorced and moved to the west coast but with time their paths crossed again and with a strong purpose of mind, he convinced her to marry him.



My dads choice to marry outside his culture was a defining moment in his life. Marrying someone like my mom definitely shaped his world. My brother has said that it was a bit like Lucy marrying Fred as my mom was very glamorous, spontaneous and free spirited. His marriage to one so unlike himself defined much of his life and led to his lifetime adoration of my mom even while not always knowing how to harmonize with her. My parents were married and bought their first house in Rosetree, Media which is in Pennsylvania. I was their first child making my way into the world in 1961 and my brother James Peter Pantazes, 4 years later in 1965. In these early years of marriage, the fact that my mom was of Italian descent defined their lives as they did not experience a close relationship with my dads Greek side of the family who continued to do what they thought was best and disapproved of his choice of partner.this did not sit well with my mom. Happily our families eventually recovered and are now extremely close with my family from my dads side but my earliest memories as a child are all of the aunts and uncles from my moms side.

My parents left the east coast to come to California around 1968 to follow my moms older brothers Rudy and Robert Sackett who had made a name for themselves in California by starting retail businesses. Our family relocated to the west coast and my dad transferred in his job at Westinghouse and was later employed by his long term employer that went through a number of name changes but is now known as TEI. He became a foremost expert in feedwater heater design having his name in textbooks and inventing the design of this equipment that is used to this day.

Life passed in our early years as most families in the 70s and 80s did. With time as Ying met Yang in my parents marriage, mixed in with very long visits from my dads mom, friction began between my parents. Although there was lots of love in our home towards us as children, my parents found themselves in increasingly distant stances until finally separating after about 20 years of marriage in 1975 or so. I find this ironic because they truly never let go of one another and to her deathbed, it was my dad who my mom truly considered as her husband. Their love was so strong yet tossed about by the stormy seas of life, never truly severed as they always came back to one another in the deepest parts of their lives.

After my parents separation, our family lived in 2 separate homes in my brother and my teen years. My brother Jacques lived with my mom and I, given a choice by my mom and not wanting my dad to live alone, chose to live with him. Apparently my decision was unexpected by my mom and was a defining moment for my life in that my mom was always wounded by that choice. It was never truly a decision against her but more out of a teenagers sense of fairness. My dad continued on in his engineering career playing tennis on the weekends and coming to have a lifelong interest in hunting, guns and knives as he shared hunting trips with his hunting buddies. As I left for college, he lived on his own in his condo and had buddies and work and hobbies to entertain yet always having family at the center of his life at all times. The years passed with my dad and I never living far apart from one another and very much a part of each others lives. My mom passed away in 1989 and my dad has grieved her loss ever since especially mentioning her repeatedly in the last year of his life. Dad officially retired around the time I got married in 1994 although he continued to consult professionally for many years. He became a Papou in 1998 which he often said was his greatest joy. Such was the way he inhabited that role that even I often began to call him Papou vs Dad.

Having now fulfilled my role to summarize my dads formative years and history, I can now briefly share some cornerstones of my memories of my dad. I was, and am, a Daddys girl. Some of my earliest memories of my dad are in the home in which I was born. I followed my dad around everywhere. We had a half acre of grass that my dad would mow with a push mower every Saturday and this took almost the whole day. Such was my love and fascination with my dad, that I would always perservere through this whole task with him. Part of my job was to pick small daisies and make a daisy chain that he would proudly put in his cap. When we were done, we would sit out on the lawn with a feeling of accomplishment and have a cold drink where he would breath out ahhh upon his first sip of a cold beverage which he did all through the rest of his life even to his last days around our dinner table, when he sat down and had his first sip of iced lemonade, he would sigh aahhh.

I had terrible growing pains in my knees in my early years and they would hit hardest in the middle of the night. I would run to wake up my dad and even though he had to leave early for work he would always prepare warm washcloths and told me of a magic way I could lay diagonally on the bed that would mysteriously take away the pain. By his very presence there and my special diagonal sleep position, I would soon be back to sleep resting in the knowledge that my dads presence could fix anything. When I ice skated and had to be woken up to go to the rink at 4:30 in the morning, it was my dad who gently woke me up and made me his famous eggs on toast each morning.patiently weaving his lifes tapestry of care and love daily and in all ways.

There were daily nights of ping pong where he would give me a shellacking even while playing with his left hand and days practicing pitching and nights watching Get Smart and eating popcorn and an ever increasing and wonderful knowledge that in my dads eyes, I was loved unconditionally and steadfastly. I was his dreamer or his dreamboat the two names he called me most of my young life.

I grew to college age and moved to Santa Barbara in the dorm. One weekend I snuck home a day early and was probably up to no good and unbeknownst to me he had called my roommate who told him I had already drove home. The next day as I got to his house, he asked me when I had drove home..this morning I answeredhe hesitateddid you see the milk truck overturned on the freeway he asked.by his question I knew I was sunk and realized he knew I had been lying. I told him I was very sorry I had lied but I did not want to disappoint him. He turned his back to me at this point, he stood there while I silently watched wondering what was happening. I saw him from behind picking up his tee shirt, lift his glasses and wipe his eyes with his shirt as he apparently was crying. He turned back to me composed and said honey there is nothing you could ever do to ever disappoint me. My remorse for lying was much deeper for witnessing his unconditional love for me. Being now a parent, I often marvel at how my dad accomplished correcting me yet always showing me the depth of his love all at the same time.

Years passed and I became a bride. As I dressed nervously and was finished I asked them to send my dad in to my bedroom where I stood fully dressed and made up. He walked in wearing his tuxthe first time he ever wore oneand he stopped dead in his tracks and began to sob. I can only tell you that he made me feel so beautiful in that moment. The picture you see in front of you today is my dad at our reception looking very proud and happyhow I always remember him.

Fast forward more to the birth of his an-gon-ees or grandchildren when he became Papou. It is in this role that he seemed to blossom into having times of pure joy as he walked the girls in the stroller for hours or pushed them on the swings or went to their school plays or flew airplanes with them. He was a part of their lives every day of their lives and showed them the same kind of loyal and steadfast love that he showed me. They could do absolutely no wrong in his eyes and he ardently defended them against any foe he imagined they had. I was a little jealous thoughhe always gave me valentines cards all up until the girls were born then all of a sudden, he bought cards telling each of them they were his valentine insteadI asked him once why he loved being a grandparent so muchhe said that when you are a parent you worry if you are doing it right and if it all will turn out okaywhen you are a grandparent you know it will and you just enjoy the journey.

The last cornerstone of my memories of my beloved dad are his last days. Papou ate dinner at our house every night. In the last year we had begun to do his bills with him and give him his medication and make his medical appointments as well as help him unravel what happened after he stopped paying bills for almost a year. The daughter turned into the parentnot always gracefully either, because as wonderful as my dad was, he had an epic stubborn streak and would say yes to my face and then go do what he thought was best often getting himself in huge scrapes. In the last 6 months I noticed that his appetite was just not what it used to be and I kept asking him if he felt okay. I feel fine he would always respond and the many doctor appts we made to see if something was wrong would come back as a clean bill of health. Dad was so healthy that before this recent season of being in the hospital, he had not been in a hospital in more than 60 yearsthe doctors were dumbfounded that he had absolutely no medical history on record as he was never sick a day in his life.

Around 3 weeks ago I was chaperoning a music tour with my youngest daughter Camille when my oldest daughter Paige was home alone with Papou and had made him dinner. She texted me something is wrong with Papou and sent me a video of him swaying back and forth and moaning. I called a friend who came to take him to the emergency room while I arranged to come home from San Luis Obispo early. I slept fitfully that night in the hotel as I learned he was admitted to the hospital. I called the hospital at 3 am from the hotel bathroom whispering so as not the wake the school girls. What is wrong with my dad? I asked. The nurse said I would need to wait to hear it from the doctor. Anxiously I called my husband to come get me and we headed to the hospital. Soon after we arrived that next morning, the cancer doctor came in to talk to us. He said he had bad news that dad had liver cancer and that his CAT scan looked very bad. He told dad he would find the primary cancer site but that it looked pretty grim. Dad doggedly avoided the news while I called his brother and nieces who came from New York and New Jerseymy brother came from San Franciscothe news came that the primary cancer was in his pancreas and that we should see to his affairs as he did not have long to live.

Through this time, my dad and I struggled to hide our fears from one another neither wanting to add to the others anguishnot knowing how or when to say goodby. At one point early on in his hospital stay, he suddenly became pale and unresponsive and his blood pressure bottomed out and the nurse began calling out in the hallway for help. Thinking it was his last moment, I climbed up on the bed with him and held him and said Dad, you have been the best dad, have I been a good daughter?, I am sorry I sometimes was cranky while trying to get you to do what you needed to do.i love so very muchat this point he came to and said without missing a beat you have been the best daughterdont cry while he patted my handever my protector.

He was visited by clergy in his last days who asked him if he was ready for the hereafter and did he feel ready to meet his Maker and was he confident he was going to Heaven. My dad said he hoped so but still had doubts. He then finally accepted the forgiveness of God for those things he imagined would hold him back from Heaven and I am confident that is where he is now.

We were blessed that they allowed him a bed at the hospice house where I worka beautiful 5 bedroom home with 24 hour skilled hospice RN care. He was there for one week before passing away. I would like to say his last days were comfortable but they were not however my dad was incredibly brave and never complained. not even oncenot even at his worst moments. His stomach protruded with the many tumors giving him such pressure that it moved the bones of his ribs literally to flare out to the sides but not once did he utter one admission of pain or discomfort. Living selflessly even in his last moments of great pain wanting not to burden others.

My dad was a gianta rock in my life. My dad never failed to give me anything I asked for and never withheld any help that was requested. His stature as a loving father and grandfather is larger than lifeI love you dad, I will see you in Heaven.



From your Dreamer.