Peter Julian Eymard Abresch, named after the French saint Peter Julian Eymard, was born June 15, 1931 to parents William Abresch and Gertrude Leverina Abresch in the city of Long Branch, New Jersey and grew up in New Jersey and Staten Island, New York. He moved with his father to El Paso, Texas after his parents were divorced. Pete quit high school in 1948 to work in the Texas oil fields; however, he returned to Staten Island in 1950 to complete his high school education. Pete returned to El Paso, Texas and lived with his father while attending college at Texas Western University (now University of Texas at El Paso). He completed his degree in Geodesy so he could become a Geodesist. A Geodesist measures and monitors the Earth’s size and shape, geodynamic phenomena (e.g., tides and polar motion), and gravity fields to determine the exact coordinates of any point on Earth and how that point will move over time. Pete returned to Staten Island after college and taught dance for 2 years at the Arthur Murray School of Dance.

Pete eventually got a job with US Naval Oceanographic Branch of the federal government and travel through the Pacific Islands, Japan, and other parts of Asia as his job dictated, performing various surveying and navigation responsibilities. After a long trip in the Marshall Islands, he came to Washington, DC to live with his sister Muriel. It was in Washington, DC where he regularly attended Mass at Holy Trinity in Georgetown. Pete was instrumental in starting the Catholic Club of Georgetown where he met Annemarie, daughter of Anton Lang, Jr. and Granddaughter of Anton Lang who were well known in the United States as the famous impersonators of Christ in the Oberammergau Passion Plays. Pete and Annemarie got married in 1960.

In 1962, Pete and Annemarie gave birth to twin boys, Peter Jr., and Joseph, forcing Pete to sell his beloved Corvette convertible as there was no longer enough room for the family. They moved and lived in various locations including Georgetown and Suitland, MD. Pete started writing short stories, mostly Science Fiction, during this time and had many published, including some that were almost featured in Outer Limits and Twilight Zone TV episodes.

In 1964, Annemarie gave birth to their 3rd son Marc while living in Accokeek, MD. In 1966, the fourth son, Chris was born. Pete and Annemarie moved to the old Belt Farm peninsula, just a stone’s throw north of Broome’s Island, along the Patuxent River. It was here that their 5th son, Stefan was born in 1967. The Belt Farm was truly a place to live, where fresh fruit, nuts, and vegetables grew wild, where fish and crabs were available with the mere dip of a net. After numerous attempts to buy the Belt Farm, (owner did not want to sell), Pete and Annemarie bought the old Weem’s house next to St. John Vianney, just on the other side of where Suburban Gas sits today.

The Abresch family became parishioners to St John Vianney in 1965-1966, when Father Naughton was the parish priest. Pete encouraged (we all know what the means), all his sons to become altar boys and volunteer around the Church as much as possible, including painting, planting trees, cleanup, cutting grass, trimming bushes, cutting trees, and filling in anywhere as required.

Many parishioners met Dad either through his boisterous, possibly off-key singing during mass, or with the Parish Council where he served in various capacities for many years, in the St. John Vianney Men’s Club, or through Cursillo. He also brought the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) program to St. John Vianney. This program brought many adults fully into the Catholic faith at St. John Vianney, including daughter-in-laws, Toni, who was baptised the very first year, and Kathy, confirmed a few years later. After leading the program for several years, Peter passed the leadership on and then traveled to other parishes to bring RCIA program to them. For his dedication to the Church and RCIA, Pete was awarded the papal medal "Pro Ecclesia et Pontifice." The honor, which means "for the Church and the Pontiff," and is only awarded in recognition of outstanding service to the Church and the Pope.

Pete continued to work for the federal government throughout his professional career as a Geodesist and often traveled to many exotic places, such as the Caribbean, New Guinea, New Zealand, Hong Kong, Japan, Zaire, and often was away for many months of the year. In the 1970's, Pete went back to school and got a degree in Information Systems where he transferred to a government job as a computer programmer that kept him closer to home.

In the early 1970’s, Annemarie had collected enough Kool Cigarette cartons, no small feat as she did not smoke, to send in to Kool Tobacco Company for a 13-foot, Styrofoam, lateen rigged, Sea Snark sailboat weighing in at a mere 50 pounds. It was this small boat that ignited Pete’s desire to sail, challenging his friends to many races, using his sons as strategic ballast when required. He won the coveted Port Tobacco Regatta, a trophy that is still proudly displayed to this day.

Pete became an active sailor and after attending a multihull symposium in Toronto, Canada, became an active and vocal advocate of any sailboat with more than one hull. Pete also returned with a set of blueprints to a Norman Cross designed 18-foot trimaran which was built in the garage with his sons in Prince Frederick. The Cross 18 sailed many adventures along the Patuxent River and beyond with Pete at the helm or his sons when he was stuck on shore with other responsibilities.

Peter was a founding member of the Chesapeake Cruising Multihull Association (CCMA) in 1977, which was a yacht club for multihulls in the day when the snobby yachties refused to acknowledge or allow multihull owners to join their club or participate in their regattas. The CCMA evolved into the Chesapeake Multihull Association and still flourishes today.

Pete had other hobbies as well. After a 3-month trip to Japan, Pete returned as an avid bonsai enthusiast, the art of sculpting miniature trees that resembled life-size landscapes. Pete dragged his sons across the country, digging up any tree that he felt could be molded into this art form. He enlisted his sons to build a greenhouse and sent them through the forest collecting mulch from specific rotten evergreen trees that were said to be conducive to tree growth. Pete’s bonsai hobby provided the basis of his published novel “Bloody Bonsai.”

Pete and Annemarie bought a parcel of land in a quaint community known as Harbor Hills, along Long Cove, that was fed off of Battle Creek. There, with the help of his 5 sons, friends, and anyone that might have wandered too close, they built their house, known as “Shadow” (after the hymn “Only A Shadow”), completing it in 1980. They lived at Shadow until moving back to Prince Frederick in 2002.

In the mid-1980’s, Pete and son Peter Jr. each built a 24-foot Trailer Tri 720, a 9-month project that ballooned into 3 years of dedicated boat building. These boats were fast and terrorized any sails on the horizon as the race was always on. Pete maintained his love of sailing, even after selling his boat, and often discussed the next boat, the boat that would take him around the world, as most boat owners often do, right up to his passing.

Pete retired from the government, bought a camper and spent a year traveling the United States with Annemarie. He returned home to rekindle his love of writing, with many books published. Pete continued as a fixture in the church community, participating in many events and always sharing his opinion, whether it was requested or not. ☺

Pete was a select member of the “Chincoteague Men’s Fishing Group,” which he looked forward to every year. He regaled many stories but it is still unclear if any fish were ever caught. It was the solitude with friends and family that he enjoyed most and the fishing trip was a means to achieve this.

Pete was the patriarch of the family of 5 sons, 4 daughters-in-law, 6 grandchildren, and 8 great-grandchildren. Pete often vacationed with the family, attended many beach trips, even though he was not too keen about the beach. He joined the family on several trips to Europe. He often sat around the campfire with everyone when camping. The Abresch family was close and spent most holidays together.

Pete lived his life well, he was devoted to his faith, he traveled the world, he was a published author, playwright, a sailor, dedicated husband, father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. But it was mostly Pete’s faith that allowed him to continue in the end. After dying on May 2, 2021, and being resurrected minutes later, he had recovered enough to have discussions with his sons, put his affairs in order, and as always, making sure Annemarie would be taken care of. He often commented that he was 90 years old, he had become tired, and he was ready for the next life. Pete passed quietly, on his own terms, on August 1, 2021.

Peter began the Rite for Christian Initiation for Adults (RCIA) at St. John Vianney. During the first year, he was looking for a priest or deacon to give a day of reflection on the morning of the Easter Virgil, right before the Elect were to become full fledged members of the Church by receiving the sacraments. No matter how hard he tried, all were booked with other commitments. One day, while at work, he went outside to clear his head and to try to make sense of the situation. As he stepped outside, there in front of him was a field of dandelions. One of the things about this flower is it’s ability to always come back. You can pick them, try to pull them all up, or any number of other things, but no matter what you do, they keep coming back. That day, some saw weeds, but he saw a field of yellow, stretching upward in all their glory. Those dandelions were a symbol of steadfast faith in God. Have faith and always hope in the Lord! He will never leave you. Dad not only found the topic of the talk for the day of reflection, he also found that he was being called to give it.

Over the next few years, he continued to share the story, and each time, he drew people in and made them part of that field of dandelions. One year it was early spring and he could not find a dandelion to display, so an artist in the group drew one and placed it on the wall behind him. As Dad spoke, a ray of sunshine reflected through the window onto on the picture, framing it in light.

He told the story many times, and you could see the impact that it made on his life, even to a point where he named his first book character, James P. Dandy after the dandelion. One of his many gifts to us, and now given as a gift to you.

Dad traveled a lot when Joseph and I were young, until we were about 16. Without his early influence, we had formed many of our own opinions, many that might have differed from Dad's, I had my own opinions concerning faith, and when it came to politics, we could not be further apart.

However, where Dad and I often agreed was anything around sailing. Since serving as ballast as a young boy on our Styrofoam Sea Snark, we both enjoyed sailing, we enjoyed the peacefulness and sometimes the solitude. We built an 18-foot trimaran during the mid-1970s while living in Prince Frederick. We sailed the trimaran for many years, up, down, and around the Patuxent River, with Dad at the helm or just the brothers while Dad was grounded ashore. Later, I would also take this pretty girl sailing with me aboard that same trimaran. I eventually married the pretty girl, and for our wedding present, Dad gave us blueprints for a new 24-foot Trimaran. Dad and I built these boats side by side in the mid-1980s, a 9-month project that ballooned into a 3-year build, consuming every spare moment we had.

We eventually launched these boats, mine being christened Launch Break and Dad’s, Eagle's Wings, after a song that he liked. I remember being anchored in a secluded cove in Saint Mary’s River, we had rafted the two boats up, and were enjoying a refreshing beer in the cockpit after a long day of sailing. Mom turned to us and asked, “Well, was the 3-years worth it?”, referring to the 3 years it took us to build these boats. Dad and I looked at each other and simultaneously uttered “No!" Three years of our lives laboring over these boats, we should just have purchased a boat, it was not that much more, and we vowed that we would never build another boat again.

Eventually we both got rid of our boats as our lives got in the way, me with raising a family and going back to school, Dad with his traveling and writing. However, like most former boat owners often do, we continued to discuss our next boat. We attended the Annapolis Sailboat show frequently in the 90's and even took some boats out for demo sails. We continued to share this urge, this desire to explore past the sea’s horizon, to enjoy the peace, quiet, and solitude. The adventures of far-away places always continued to beckon. Even in Dad’s last months, we discussed the attributes of what would make a great cruising catamaran, ease of handling, the state-of-the-art construction techniques, and the huge advancement in navigation technology. Dad was supposed to sail with Toni and me this early summer, along the Chesapeake Bay. We had chartered the Catamaran of our dreams, but unfortunately Dad could not join the crew due to his unforeseen deteriorating health.

I know Dad has moved on now, but I would like to change my answer, that answer I gave so many years ago, about building the boat. With the wisdom of my years, and our shared passion of sailing, I can now say that it was worth it. It was some of the best memories we had spent together, the memories that remained were all good, any memories to the contrary must have drifted away in the tides of time. Toni and I know that Dad will continue to sail with us, in any of our future adventures, and will console us if the waves ever turn the minutes into hours.

I like to close with a poem, the last poem that Dad emailed as part of his Burnt Offerings, written many years ago, aboard the sailing vessel Adventuress, while anchored in Puget Sound, in Washington State. It is titled Anchor Watch

I stand alone on deck,
the universe my ceiling,
while in the deepening of night
house lights wink out ashore

until only God and I remain,
our shipmates' safety in our hands.
But all time is God's watch,
all the world His shipmates,

He is the masthead light
Guardian of the night,
and when my watch is over,
my hope against the rocky shore