PETER C. HOAG

PETER HOAG Obituary

HOAG, PETER C. Memorial service, 11am, Saturday, Sept. 18, 2010, Montview Boulevard Presbyterian Church, 1980 Dahlia St., Denver. Memorials may be made to Reel Recovery, www.reelrecovery.org.

To plant trees in memory, please visit the Sympathy Store.

Published by Denver Post on Sep. 16, 2010.

Memories and Condolences
for PETER HOAG

10 Entries

Jessica Hoag

November 18, 2010

I miss you my Brother. One day I will see you again. I will always be your sister. You will always be my brother. My heart is close to yours each and every passing second.

Aaron Storbeck

November 16, 2010

You will be missed Petie. Not a day goes by that i don't think about you brotha. RIP.

Whitney Willits

October 4, 2010

While working at 303 Coffee Co, Pete's grin and positive energy were one of the first things I enjoyed every morning when he walked in to order his large Americano. His presence at the coffee shop will be greatly missed and we would like to send our condolences to his friends and family.

Pamela Hogg

September 21, 2010

Perer was my 1st born Nephew. He was and always will be a bright light of sunshine in my heart. Peter fought his battle with cancer with the upmost strength and courage, but as always he still showed enormous love for his family, friends and life. This world will be a sadder place without him. I love you Pete. Aunt Pam

Vic Cruse

September 18, 2010

My nephew I will never forget. Our prayers are with Terry and Carol

Joanne, Kirk, Brad, and Mark Schlotterbeck

September 17, 2010

Dear Terry, Carol, Jessica, and Jamie,

Joanne, Brad, Mark, and I are so, so sorry and filled with sorrow. We can't imagine the grief of losing someone so dear and close to your hearts. We can only take solice in knowing that his suffering is over and although Pete was so young, he accomplished so much, he was brave, he touched so many people's lives in a positive way and most importantly Pete was able to love and be loved. Although we have not seen Pete for many years, we remember his fun loving ways and we still can picture his boyish grin and his charming personality.

Please know that all of you, Terry, Carol, Jessica, and Jamie are in our thoughts and prayers. There are few words of true consolation; grief is a tough journey that no one can take for you. But try to remember, the grief you now feel is only because you were privileged to share great love and happiness for many years with Pete.

Some people are never lucky enough to find what your family shared. And with the passage of time, happy memories will fill the void you feel in your hearts today.

With sincere sympathy and love,

Josh Hindson

September 16, 2010

You're a light Pete. I've no picture in my mind where you're not smiling or laughing or wearing your basketball socks as tall as they'd stretch. Thanks so much for being so much to so many. Much Love.

Wendy Phillips

September 16, 2010

Trevor’s friend Pete Hoag, one of his first friends in Denver and a loyal work companion for nine years, passed away in his sleep last Friday night after a long battle with bone cancer. My favorite story about Pete is one that I think is most reflective of his spirit, and one that I can see telling my daughter for years to come. It goes something like this:

Once upon a time mischievous Trevor trekked to the pet store to buy a mouse. Not just any mouse. The kind of mouse that Trevor’s cat would love to pounce on!

Trevor brought the mouse home and presented it to his cat. The cat fell in love with the mouse! He patted the mouse on the head and invited it to live with him forever.

Even so, the mouse was terrified of the cat. He ran and hid under Trevor’s fireplace.

Suddenly Trevor’s wife came home.

“What’s under that fireplace?” she asked Trevor.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

After a while, Trevor and his wife retired to bed. But not the cat and mouse! The cat stayed up all night coaxing the mouse out from hiding and chasing it all over the house.

“What’s all that ruckus?” the wife asked Trevor.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

The next morning, Trevor captured the mouse and took it to work. Not knowing what else to do, he was just about to release it into the wild woods when a voice came from behind him. It was Pete!

“What are you doing with that mouse?” he asked Trevor.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Pete took the mouse into his hands and rubbed its back. “I’ll take this mouse home and take care of him,” he told Trevor. He laughed, clicked heels and he stepped. And off he went in his funny faux fur coat, all muscles and macho at first blush but all heart when it came down to it.

Pete named the mouse Mr. Bojangles. He bought the mouse a contraption he called Mr. Bojangles’ penthouse: a terrific home of wheels and toys and fun. Mr. Bojangles lived a long and wonderful life with sweet Pete.

Mr. Bojangles eventually went to heaven where the love and the warmth and the fun were all more spectacular than anyone could imagine.

And now, Mr. Bojangles has his sweet Pete back.

What’re we to do?

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

But one day, I don’t know when, we will once again laugh, click heels and step – just as Pete would have liked us to.