J. Peter Sonnenberg

Pete and l first met as Montreal car salesmen. Not very successful ones, because we spent much valuable selling time playing shuffleboard at the next-door Klondike Tavern. We were given company cars and used them for nice trips. There was a lunchroom with wholesome German cooking. In good time, l was fired first while Pete held out for a while longer, whereas our friendship has held out for more than fifty years over four provinces and a combined 15 houses, punctuated with untold reciprocated visits.
We celebrated birthdays, holidays and Christmases together, opened presents in IKEA showrooms, enjoyed Olive Garden visits and occasionally drove into New England to ski at Lake Placid and swim at Joe’s Cabins. We drank cheap beer and smoked cheap cigarettes, which we did regret later. We helped each other move, played emotional games of Hearts (which he won) and overly long ones of chess, which he also won because he deliberated so long that l lost my concentration. We lent each other money, exchanged ideas and counsel on cars and house improvements, not forgetting trips to Canadian Tire for fun or amusement, and my now rare visits there will always remind me of him.
We looked forward to meet at Chinese buffets, at Montreal brasseries for steak and beer. He preferred Labatt’s and Player’s, no filter. We met for Sunday brunch where he delighted in ingesting a tidbit of whole yolk-on-toast while closing his eyes in bliss. After we both moved to Ontario we remembered the good old Montreal times: visits to his parents’ garden cottage at Lac Leon; braving the floods on Second Avenue; buying fries on Gouin, cold cuts at the deli on Dresden and lunch at Swiss Chalet. Later, and far apart, we made it a tradition to wear the champagne wire cage on our noses whenever we drank to each other in absentia.
I valued his command of carefully chosen vocabulary, his diction and syntax, his sharp intelligence and powers of reasoning. We did not always see eye-to-eye, but in the end our friendship evened out such bumps. I feel an emptiness after his parting and miss the challenges of fruitful or fruitless discussions. He has left a hole that can’t be filled and, sadly, our properly written and punctuated text conversations have petered out.
Pete made himself into an expert on vintage cars and lamps and became a successful trader and adviser. He, Karen and Michael had fun at car and antique shows, chewing the fat with like-minded people. He owner several sporty veteran cars over the years. I followed him once when he was driving a red XK Jaguar and lost a loosely-threaded front wheel on a highway overpass. We both stopped to watch that wheel roll through traffic…it ended up harmlessly in the ditch.
Pete owned. Morgan, several Healeys ( he raced one of them), a Mercedes, various Jags and other cars, hopeful and doubtful ones, which he kept in top shape. He accumulated his treasures all by himself by focused work and hard-worn knowledge. He took great joy in aesthetic objects: his home interiors were in good taste, illuminated by his period lamps, with nice furniture and art, everything kept spotless by Karen.
In the last years of his life he and Michael went on pleasure drives to look at interesting cars in the vicinity.
With a wire cage on my nose, l raise my glass to him!

My early memories of Pete … late ’60s I think we’re of Karen and Peter coming back to 4580 #8 from nights out together and me still up watching late night movies. Did I ever get the hint to get to bed and let them have some serious couch time? It was one of those nights when a cigarette rolled off the ashtray and on to mother’s new coffee table leaving a nice burn mark in the finish. We all took turns freaking out trying to reverse the outcome. The mark of course is still there… I have that table now.
Last time I saw Pete was probably eight years ago. I remember him as a straight up, no nonsense, opinionated, logical thinking guy…with a helluva firm man’s
handshake to boot!
Rest easy Pete. Lots of people on this side loved you.
Love and hugs to Karen and nephew Michael.

To my brother in law Pete, a man I’ve admired most of my life, for his intelligence, humour, and wit. Rest in peace brother, we all love and miss you greatly.