Greg Peters: Endless good humor and a friend to all

He was as happy to encounter a lifelong pal as he was a new acquaintance. He never met a stranger, his family and friends said, sometimes to the consternation of his children.

His daughter, Courtney Peters, 27, remembers going to the grocery store with her father, who would turn the quick errand into a social occasion, striking up conversations with strangers.

"We'd be there another hour and he'd get the person's information and they'd stay in contact," she said.

"He just completely took over a room," she said. "He had this presence. He laughed really loud. He was a smart-ass. He always had something to say."

It was Greg Peters' guileless charm and good humor toward all he met that attracted people to him in life and in death. Friends and relatives from across the country traveled to Tucson last week for Peters' memorial service.

He died March 28, at 64, from ailments related to the paralyzing injury the father of two suffered during combat while serving in Vietnam 41 years ago.

"Once you met Greg, you never forgot him and you always wanted to see him again," said Courtney's godmother, Brenetta Jones. "You were never unhappy when you were around Greg."

Peters made friends in Tucson from the day he arrived, even though his older sister, Genevieve Wesley, of Virginia, recalls him being "a bratty little brother," and one of his first acquaintances found his Long Island, N.Y., ways a little odd.

"He came from back East, so coming to Tucson he was not the typical Tucson kid," said Flavia Batteau Walton, of Maryland, who met Peters in the mid-1960s, soon after he and his parents, Lester and Savada, moved to Southern Arizona to remedy his father's heath condition.

"He was very engaging, very personable … and just had a zest for life and living that most people don't have," Walton said.

Peters, an Army officer, was paralyzed from the waist down in 1967 when he was shot at close range during combat, said his sister, but he didn't let it dampen his enthusiasm for life.

"He never became bitter. He decided to go on with his life," his sister said. "Greg was all motivation. He was so positive."

After his discharge from the Army, Peters lived in Southern California for a while, where he caught up with high school friend Mack Wilbourn. As teens they'd lived on the same block, palled around and graduated from Tucson High in 1962.

Wilbourn, who now owns restaurant franchises in Georgia, was working at a Los Angeles McDonald's in the late 1960s, before the advent of drive-through service. He said Peters would visit him at work, driving a Cadillac convertible.

"He'd drive up to the parking lot with the top down and call me to come out to be a carhop for him, to serve him his double cheeseburger and French fries and large coke," Wilbourn said. "I used to tease, him how could someone be driving a Cadillac and come to McDonald's?"

Peters maintained his independence, despite ongoing health problems associated with his paraplegia. He traveled, enjoyed dining out, drove himself cross-country to visit family members and friends and was successful in the stock market and as a tax preparer.

In 1977 he wed Connie Porter, and within a few years he and his wife adopted two children. In 1990, however, tragedy struck again. He had developed a severe infection related to his paraplegia that kept him hospitalized at a California VA hospital that specialized in spinal cord injuries. He was there for more than a year.

It was during that time, in the summer of 1990, that Connie contracted severe pneumonia and died, leaving Peters to raise his young children as a single parent. Friends said his mother, Savada, helped with the children, but when her health began to fail, Peters began taking care of her, too.

"He never felt sorry for himself and he never wanted anyone else to feel sorry for him," said Ella Marie Miles, of California. "He was very independent and very driven.

"Whatever he tried to do, he'd do it and he did it well. He took the kids to soccer practice, he was involved in their school, he drove everywhere he wanted to go," including frequent trips to Los Angeles to visit Miles. The pair dated briefly in 1971 and reconnected 20 years later, after the death of Peters' wife. They had dated for the last 17 years.

"I think we were meant to be," Miles said. "I wanted to see what it was like to be with him again. It worked out beautifully. I have no regrets at all. We had a long-distance relationship for all those years and when we'd get together it was beautiful."

Peters had the support of Miles after his wife's death, but much of his strength to persevere through hardship came from the faith instilled in Peters by his parents. They were longtime members of St. Michael and All Angels Episcopal Church. As a teen, Greg Peters was an acolyte, the first black altar server in the Episcopal Diocese of Arizona, said friend and fellow parishioner Mary Greene Lamb.

"He came from a big loving family," Lamb said. "His parents had the highest of standards and they raised their children to have faith in God, to be devoted and loyal, but I think the fun came from within Greg himself.

"If he flashed one of his smiles at you with those big gorgeous white teeth and all the love and life he had in him, you were cheered up for the day. Strangers or longtime friends alike, he thrilled and amazed people," Greene said.

St. Michael's parishioners John and Shigeko Hsieh met Peters at the church and are godparents to his son, Christian Peters, 22.

"He was a very uplifting person. He was always positive … and always cheerful and concerned about others," John Hsieh said.

"With all the difficulties he had, he always made you feel good," Shigeko Hsieh added.

Peters imparted to his children his enthusiasm for life and compassion toward people.

"The way he accepted everybody, he didn't care who you were or what you had or what you didn't have. He wouldn't look at material objects as something that determined who you were as a person," Christian Peters said. "I learned everything from my dad."

Life Stories

This feature chronicles the lives of recently deceased Tucsonans. Some were well-known across the community. Others had an impact on a smaller sphere of friends, family and acquaintances. Many of these people led interesting — and sometimes extraordinary — lives with little or no fanfare. Now you'll hear their stories. Past "Life Stories" are online at go.azstarnet.com/ LIFE STORIES