Peter J Berman

Peter J. Berman passed away peacefully on the afternoon of October 11th with the sun shining and the leaves falling at his home in Peru, Vermont surrounded by his family and loved ones. He will be remembered as a story teller, and he arguably packed several lifetimes of experience and adventure into his 87 years from which to pull stories. Born to George and Lillian Berman on June 6th, 1934 in Long Island, NY he was a child of the Great Depression and World War II. He recalled turning off lights in their home at night to hide the eastern coastline from enemy ships, and rummaging through wreckage and cargo that washed up on the beaches from torpedoed submarines in the Atlantic. His own father passed away when he was 8, and he spent the rest of his life pursuing and building the family life that he so sorely lacked growing up. He loved our Mom dearly and was fiercely proud of my siblings and I - he would often say that “family is everything” and I count this as the most simple but poignant statement that he left us with. He played football and ran track at the University of Pennsylvania- logging among the fastest 100-yard dash times in the nation- and graduated from the Wharton School of Business in 1956. He was the first student in the University’s history offered an invitation to all three Senior Societies. He spent the next 4 years as an Officer in the Navy traveling the globe aboard the destroyer the USS Black and the aircraft carrier the USS Independence. He fondly recalled his first crossing of the equator on a naval ship, where months’ worth of the ship’s trash was laid out on the deck and the unindoctrinated sailors, including him, had to crawl through it from bow to stern. He left the service with little more than the shirt on his back but quickly found his path as a commercial real estate broker in New York City. He went on to a prolific 47-year career where he valued honesty and integrity above all else. He walked away from deals and lucrative commissions, refusing to take or provide kickbacks or participate in other below board dealings that the industry had accepted as the norm. He prided himself on his creative approach to business- he was at heart not a salesman, but someone who connected with people and built relationships. He connected with the CIA in the 80s to facilitate the bugging of Russian and Chinese office space that he leased, and he went toe to toe with some of the biggest players and characters in the world of real estate. He witnessed the events of 911 from his office in midtown Manhattan, and the memories he shared often brought him to tears. He met my Mother while working on the ski patrol at Stratton Mountain in 1976- he sold her a raffle ticket for a patrol fundraiser and bought her a glass of wine. She won the grand prize in the raffle- a season pass-, they fell in love, got married, and celebrated their 45th wedding anniversary this past Summer. My Dad loved his cats. He loved his huskies. He loved Vermont, and spending the last 20 years at the end of a dirt road. He loved biking, fishing, tennis, canoeing, and everything that allowed him to explore the great outdoors, and he worked tirelessly to share these passions and opportunities with his family. But he loved skiing and the mountains the most. He was painfully stubborn and set in his ways, fiercely persistent, perpetually late and ignorantly unapologetic about it. He always stood up for what he believed to be right no matter the cost. My Dad was also a poet and writer that left his friends and family the most beautiful notes and cards. He wasn’t religious or particularly spiritual but he made a habit of dropping off flowers at the local church nearly every week for the past decade. He had a warm heart, the biggest smile, and a gentle soul beyond compare. He was not afraid to show affection, tell someone he loved them, or shed tears in public. He taught my siblings and I all the lessons and values we need to navigate life and start our own families, and for this we are forever grateful. Saying goodbye is so hard- of all the things he prepared us for this was not one of them. My Dad was healthy, strong, and literally fighting the good fight up until the end and that’s how he would have wanted it. I take solace in knowing that his was a life well lived, and that he’ll be with us forever as we add his stories to our own and continue to share them to all who care to listen. A celebration of life for Peter J. Berman was held at the Peru Congregational Church.