We all miss you and think of you often.

We miss you, dearly. Hug our loved ones for me. 

Happy Birthday, Pete!  

We love you and miss you. 

Pete - We all love you and miss you.  (posted by M. Bridges)

I wish I could have seen your face! 

...can only imagine the conversation 

...Enveloped in His love

...Healed souls, completely free

...Remembering no more 

Thinking of you

"I think, am sure, a brother's love exceeds
All the world's loves in its unworldliness."

Robert Browning

http://youtu.be/l11oCvBxnQ0?list=FLGWrgoiACRCJZxV5Bj0eRyw
 

I miss you, brother.

Hollis misses his buddy.

My children miss their Uncle Peter.

You left an indelible mark upon all of our lives.

Your encouragement to strive for Jesus' best is forever in my heart.

I look forward to the day we will all be together again. 

Tell our mutual loved ones I love and miss them, too.






 

Sleeping at Last ~ "In The Embers"

http://youtu.be/uHk0QrRX9RM

"Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)"

Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now I'm found
Was blind, but now I see
'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy rains
Unending love, Amazing grace

Peter never lost the desire to be part of a monastery while dwelling on earth. Surely, that desire has been fufilled in heaven. 

Be still my soul 
The Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change - He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul - thy best thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still my soul  
When dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
                                      Then shalt thou better know His love - His heart,
                                      Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
                                      Be still, my soul - the waves and winds still know
                                      His voice who ruled them - while He dwelt below.

                                      Be still my soul
                                      The hour is hastening on
                                      When we shall be forever with the Lord,
                                      When disappointment - grief and fear are gone,
                                      Sorrow forgot - love's purest joys restored,.
                                      Be still my soul - when change and tears are past,
                                      All safe and blessed 
                                              We shall meet at last.
 

We thought of you with love today,
But that is nothing new.
We thought about you yesterday.
And days before that too.
We think of you in silence.
We often speak your name.
Now all we have is memories.
And your picture in a frame.
Your memory is our keepsake.
With which we’ll never part.
God has you in his keeping.
                                              We have you in our heart.

                                                          Rose de Leon

Farewell, Master, yet not farewell. 
Where I go, ye, too, shall dwell. 
I am gone before your face. 

A moment's time, a little space. 
When ye come where I have stepped, 
Ye will wonder why ye wept.



-- "After Death" 
by Edwin Arnold

Ralph McBride

To my cousin Peter Kole in his passing:

Dear Peter,

Here's to great times we had, in what seems almost another life:  Years at East Chambers and summers at your family's farm. It was not the end of the world, but I think you could see it from there.  Isolated, but plenty of things to do and plenty of cousins to do it with.  I remember skinny dipping in a pond in the middle of nowhere, jet boats, Joker the barn-sour horse you gave me to ride, that would jump any ditch or fence to bolt right up to the barn door and slam on his brakes!  Thanks again, cuz for the barn-sour horse!!

I remember doodle bugs, and combines, all sorts of tools, a huge shop, and a multi level tree house.... and later seining nets full of catfish, ready to be skinned using a nail on the barn wall. How about the honeycomb robbed from another farm building wall?  Remember waking up at 2am to chew that sweet loot harvested that day?  In a kitchen with a built-in griddle!  With seating for 14!!!

How about windows forming a breezeway in your family room, with the smell of the land breeze coming from the gulf...and a huge fireplace.  Memories of 8mm film projected in the hallway end hallway, from a missionary home on leave.

I can still remember you, Guy and Billy Carol faking fights in the school hallways, and kicking the doorframe as you walked into classes.  Always good-natured, always a friend.  You loved to laugh, and you made everyone else enjoy it too.

And memories of several Halloween evenings, where we threw eggs at every participating car or truck we encountered on the roads of Winnie. We used my old rusted out Biscayne Chevy, with rusted through floors in the back seat. A real hazard if you dragged your feet.  But if the cops stopped you, you could just put your eggs on the ground as they searched your car, and once they told us to go home, we just picked them up again. And on the way home, you saw a truck with cases of eggs in the bed surrounded by throwers, so we shut off our lights and drove the wrong way in a one-way street to catch them head on, by surprise.

And after the fun we would drive out to the your farm, eggs from the many night battles dried on my junk car’s paint job during the trip.  And I remember (and still can’t believe) that we washed dried egg off a hot car with gasoline from the farm pump.  (Guess that was still a secret.  Sorry I had to tell.)  We should have passed then, eh?

I have thought of you often over the years.  Now I wish I had made a trip up to Arkansas to see you.  But soon enough we will all make the trip you have now made, and we will rejoice together again.

Good bye old friend…. May God richly bless our great families and friends with happy remembrances, salvation and ever increasing spiritual consequence, till we laugh again together.

Ralph McBride

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OKIaU2lKk0I&feature=related

It's been a year today since Peter went home.

I was almost eight years old when Peter came into my life.  We called him Peter Rabbit instead of Peter Raymond and he liked that.  He seemed to spend a lot of time trying to keep up with his older five brothers.  (That's the 'unfairness' of being born last:  before we make our own mark, all our siblings have already made theirs, and we are always last.)  God saved the best for last.  Peter had a special annointing not shared by his other brothers.  Early on he showed a propensity for music.  He came to me with soulful eyes one day, while I was at the piano keyboard in the formal dining room at the Kole Farm House, and he asked me, can you show me how to do that?

I had once saved his life from drowning.  We were young, very young, but somehow I, as the oldest available on duty that day, was in charge.  Peter had removed his life vest.  John had said to me, in his childlike manner, "Peter took off his life preserver."  I saw Peter no where but had a sense of where he went under.  Later Peter was to report that a whirlpool had opened above his head and he had air to breathe and he saw light.  He reported he believed God had done a miracle for him.  I could not see through the murky water of the irrigation canal in which we swam.  But I knew where to reach down and pull him up; maybe John told me where he went down.

I'm hoping that one act makes up for the times I was mean to him when we were kids.  Anyway, Peter sat on the piano stool and I began to show him how to make simple chords (they were pretty easy) and told him to imagine beautiful sunsets and stuff when he made the music.  Peter was soulful and that was all I ever had to tell him.  He did the rest. 

Peter was around nine years old when I left home for college.  Those were tough years: our father had died just one year before and in the ensuing years the farm and estate would go though transition and turmoil.  The process was not conducive to staying in close touch with everyone and I missed Peter's elementary and highschool years.  The comments his highschool friends wrote here are very touching and I'm sorry I missed those years.

Later somehow we did get to be closer and at one point shared an apartment in Houston.  It was a difficult time for me due to illness and Peter was such an ever-present help in a time of trouble.  That's when he would sing songs to me with his guitar (it's like the music I started him into came back around to me when I needed it--how about that!).  Lean on Me...when you're not strong, I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on .....  To this day, I cry when I hear Bill Withers or Joe Cocker sing that song.  Peter sang it so much like Bill Withers that today when I hear Withers sing it I hear Peter's voice in it.  It is haunting.

Peter and I shared some great times, many times very spiritual in nature, and frequently involving music, singing together, attending religious services together or a religious seminar.  And we shared some challenging times, like when he ended up in the hospital for a week and we didn't know whether he would live or die.  

I could not stop Peter from moving out of Houston and he eventually ended up in Hope, Arkansas.  It was his final stop.  He told me he was happy there, that at last he was able to live independently.  I think that as long as he was here in Houston, we sisters who loved him so much probably tried to over-protect and over-control him.  So, in my view, as imperfect as life was for him in Hope, it was the life he finally had control over for the first time probably ever, where he knew who he was, what his limitations were, and what he was willing to do and live with.  And he chose that.  I am happy that he, with all his challenges, made that step and finally did what he had wanted to do for many years.

I am glad he did not suffer much at the end: I believe God took him very fast and saved him from suffering.  Peter was ready to go.  God apparently was ready, too.

Yes, it is tragic what he had to deal with; yet I am so grateful that he was in my life.  He blessed the lives of many people.  Left to me, I would have kept him here in Houston very close to me where I could have kept an eye on him (in other words, been a typical woman hovering over a male who did not want to be hovered over).  I will always respect the step of freedom he took.

God bless you, dear Peter, and keep on singing.  I'll be there some day to sing with you again.  I'm so glad you are well now and happy and probably catching those balls again.  Bet the fishin' is good where you are now.  And I know the beaches must be sublime.  We'll do it all again someday, Peter.

Love, your sis,

MaryMargaret Kole Lytle

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Wpof8s5ZTg

Our little brother was born into suffering on earth,

But he was also born to be saved

And to be a child of God,

Spending an eternity with our Father God.

While he did not have much on earth,

He was blessed with an unusual measure of mettle.

Only one with his strength and determination

Could have fashioned a life of sorts as he did

From the limited materials he had to work with.

While he was born into suffering on earth,

He was also born for eternal joy after death.

Now from heaven he must be singing aloud,

"I count it all JOY my brothers and sisters!"

Rejoice ~

For he can now finally see God face to face.

Merry Christmas, little brother.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6L1RSSTpDkU&feature=youtu.be

 I enjoyed the times that me and Peter had together when we went out to eat lunch    and breakfast and diner together.  We  were very close friends while he lived in Pearland T.X.  I always wished that he would have lived  with me as a room-ate but that wasn't God's will for his life.  I will really miss Peter but knowing he is present with the Lord is great  consilation.   God Bless You  All and take care.

https://youtu.be/plUKtUCDnnE

Della Smith Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

My husband and several other members of the "coffee shop" are saddened and shocked by the loss of one of their buddies. Peter was always an early arriver for coffee, and was much entwined with the current conversations. Pete kept himself well informed and was knowledgable about most topics. He had a good sense of humor and was well liked by all. He was certainly loved by all, and will be missed dearly.

And Pete, if you are reading this from your throne above, we thank you for making a part of our lives better, and for just being you.

With our LOVE!

Doug Waters Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Weaver Quillin Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Tommy Landes Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Bill Cross Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Larry Powell Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Jim Tate Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Jessie Tullis Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Bob Cockman Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Dub Flowers Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Charles Jones Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

David Hartsfield Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Harvey Smith Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

Devere Jessup Hope, AR Saturday, August 27, 2011

with love

My thoughts and prayers are with the Kole Family as you go through this difficult time. May the Lord lift up your burdens of sorrow and lead you to the peace of knowing we will see him again.

My new found cousin, Claire, and all the Kole Family,

Our sympathies to each of you in your loss. May God hold each of you in His arms and comfort you through the days ahead. God bless and we will be praying for your family.

Joe & Betty (Simon) Veillon

Condolences to the Kole family. So sorry to learn that you lost Peter at such a young age. All the rest of you take care of yourselves.

Jonn and family---so sorry to hear of Peter's passing. We pray for all of you during this time. Gary lost his brother on July 5th..so we know your grief. God bless you all. Regina and Gary

Peter, I will miss you ,buddy,you were such a good friend.We had some goodtimes together.To the family you are in my prayers,Peter was a special person, GOd Bless You.
Norval l.Poe

Sorry to hear about your loss, my thoughts are with your family & may the Lord be with your family.

Larry and LaNell Winzer

Damn Peter! This is so very sad. Not a good way to get the class together. But you are going to be so badly missed by the family and all your friends and there must be hundreds and hundreds! You were such a blast to get in class with. Never a dull moment when you were around. You were such a funny guy, but you had your serious side as well. Family came first..then everything else came next! You always put Peter last. That was just the type of friend you were. I have not seen you in such a long time, but I will miss you very much! You were always such a good friend! Take care going UP there and know that prayers and thoughts of peace are going out to the family and friends. Will always think of you as a great FRIEND!

Kevin D. Bridges

Dear Pete: We had our highs and we had our lows -- but so many more highs than lows. The phone calls to my store from people started pouring in about you when people heard the sad news. Just wish all the friends you have here in Hope would have been able to attend the Memorial Service -- they would have filled the building. You had the ability to touch a lot of people in their lives in a unique way (and I do stress unique).

I would not have traded anything for you being with me for the last six years of your life. I will definitely miss the daily visits with you at the store, just being Ol Pete.

By the way, you never DID pay me the $20 bucks you owed me :-)

Love, Your nephew Kevin

Merciful Jesus,

Who takes away the sins of the world,

Grant them rest.

Lamb of God,

Who takes away the sins of the world,

Grant them rest 

Everlasting.

____________________________________________________________ 

People die from mental illnesses, as our family well knows.  Marie Osmond sang this poignant song on the Oprah Winfrey Show in tribute to her son Michael, after he committed suicide at age 18, after a battle with depression. To quote Marie, " Depression doesn't wait until Monday."

The video of her singing  Pie Jesu, and a short clip from the interview below:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y5bfgrWaCfc&feature=related

http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/The-Last-Time-Marie-Osmond-Spoke-to-Her-Son-Michael-Video

Peter R. Kole was our brother, and he was born with Bipolar Disorder.  

We did not know this until he was an adult, even though he exhibited symptoms as a small child that we did not recognize.  His first psychotic episode happened soon after he graduated from Stephen F. Austin University. We found out with time that he had Bipolar Disorder with Psychosis.

Peter eventually realized he had to stay on his prescribed psychiatric medications to keep from having psychotic episodes. It caused him to gain a great deal of weight, and the heavy medication did damage to some of his organs.  He was unable to maintain job stability due to his disorder, but he was approved to receive disability.  

Our family loved Peter and supported him in all ways, until the very end.

Brain chemistry imbalances are misunderstood by many people. Those who suffer with these chemical imbalances experience a lot of shame due to the stigma of mental illness and the lack of knowledge on the subject.

If you would like to become better informed on the subject and find out how you can help, check out the links below.

Thank you,

The Peter R. Kole Family

http://www.imhro.org/about-targeted-donations/bipolar-research.html   

www.bringchange2mind.org/

http://www.wliw.org/productions/local/healthy-minds/mike-wallace-depression-103/492/ 

http://www.wliw.org/productions/local/healthy-minds/jane-pauley-bipolar-disorder-110/490/ 

http://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/brain-basics/brain-basics.shtml

My uncle Peter was the whitest black man I ever met.  (Or, was he the blackest white man? )  He was MY American Idol, before all others existed, with his guitar and his rich and rough and beautiful voice.  A voice like molasses over fine gravel.

Peter was not dealt a fair hand in this life, and I suspect that broke all our hearts.  

One thing just hasn’t left my mind since Wednesday.  It’s that refrain he could pull off, like few others.  When he’d be in amongst his people, with those he loved and those who loved him, and the stories would be rolling and the energy would be high and he’d be like the sun all shiny and bright and almost uncontainably happy.  And there, right out of his mouth it would fly from the white Dr. King with his hands outstretched for revival... 

Free at last,
Free at last,
Thank god almighty, 
Free at last.

 Football and Music

I lost touch with Peter after we grew up, but we had some great times back in high school on the farm, and even after the Koles moved into town.

I still tell stories of all the things we used to do together, with Billy and John, too. I read Larry Jacobs' story about Peter's driving. I remember his driving, too. It could be scary, but he always seemed to have control.

I never understood how someone with hands the size of baseball gloves could play guitar and piano like he could. My dad always said those shoes he wore needed outboard motors on them.

Most of the things we did were some kind of competition. I remember having a contest to see who could carry more sacks of catfish food from one feeder to the next. He won. He was one of the strongest people I ever knew. I'm sure I beat him in something, but I can't remember what.

I miss Peter, and always will. I wish I had been more in touch with him as an adult.

 Vigil strange I kept on the field one night;

When you my son and my comrade dropt at my side that day,

One look I but gave which your dear eyes return’d with a look I shall never forget,

One touch of your hand to mine O boy, reach’d up as you lay on the ground,

Then onward I sped in the battle, the even contested battle,

Till late in the night reliev’d to the place at last again I made my way,

Found you in death so cold dear comrade, found your body of responding kisses,

(never again on earth responding,)

Bared your face in the starlight, curious the scene,

cool blew the moderate night-wind,

Long there and then in vigil I stood, dimly around me the battlefield spreading,

Vigil wondrous and vigil sweet there in the fragrant silent night,

But not a tear fell, not even a long-drawn sigh, long, long I gazed,

Then on the earth partially reclining sat by your side leaning my chin in my hands,

Passing sweet hours, immortal and mystic hours with you dearest comrade —

not a tear, not a word,

Vigil of silence, love and death, vigil for you my son and my soldier,

As onward silently stars aloft, eastward new ones upward stole,

Vigil final for you brave boy, (I could not save you, swift was your death,

I faithfully loved you and cared for you living, I think we shall surely meet again,)

Till at latest lingering of the night, indeed just as the dawn appear’d,

My comrade I wrapt in his blanket, envelop’d well his form,

Folded the blanket well, tucking it carefully over head and carefully under feet,

And there and then and bathed by the rising sun, my son in his grave,

in his rude-dug grave I deposited,

Ending my vigil strange with that, vigil of night and battle-field dim,

Vigil for boy of responding kisses, (never again on earth responding,)

Vigil for comrade swiftly slain, vigil I never forget, how as day brighten’d,

I rose from the chill ground and folded my soldier well in his blanket,

And buried him where he fell.

by Walt Whitman

Peter was the best friend I have ever had.  We met in college and were great friends.  I could share a million stories, and a million good times we shared as young men.  No one could make me laugh like Peter.  He loved life, and loved to laugh and share good times.  One of those times was when we took a trip to the northwest.  We went in his Datsun, and it was the first time that he had driven in the rockies, and Peter could drive, he seemed to never get tired.  I was completely worn out and finally fell asleep, only to awake to Peter screaming and laughing while we were in a full four wheel slide around a curve on the side of a cliff!!  This was Peter, never afraid, always willing to try and do new things.  We chased Girls, drove thousands of miles, ate great meals, played our guitars,played football and even once got in a fight in our own huddle,and maybe most important worshipped together. I have never met anyone like him, and I am sure I never will.  I will miss you buddy, put in a good word for me up there, I am sure it won't be long, until we are together again.  Love you man.

Larry Jacobs