Peter Freyne, 1949-2009

1. It’s really sad to see Peter go. His column in Seven Days was a jewel. I always enjoyed the monikers he gave to prominent political figures in the state and the lively way he would write his columns. He’ll be missed

2. Ditto! Sad news indeed.

3. This is a very sad ending for someone who had turned a new page in life. The few times I ran into Peter after his initial cancer battles, he was a changed man and his spirit and kindness was undeniable, seemingly indomitable, and definitely contagious.

4. Peter had guts, balls, edge, crackle and was a real sweetie and all of those at once. I thought of him as a friend and always enjoyed our occasional sit-downs in Montpelier or Burlington. As another kid out of the working class, I loved Peter’s take on the news and newsmakers. You don’t get what Peter had in school. I read INSIDE TRACK every week. So long, Peter.

5. I have reached a time in my life where the news of my friends and family passing on to the other side comes to me with more regularity than I would prefer. My reaction to each passing is different every time. Well, my relationship with each person, (when alive) was different. I thought that I might get used to it…but nope. The fact is that it is the one thing in life that you are not taught and can never learn. To deal with death. Do you call up great memories? Do you feel sad? Do you feel ill? Do you cry? Do you burp? Do you wear black? Do you get incredibly angry? Do you find religion? Do you grieve?Do you you internalize all of the feelings and appear stoic?Yes and no. A little and a lot. Some times and never. Peter’s gone now, so I won’t be able to have fleeting conversations with him, about nothing important, on Church Street. I won’t be able to act with him in another Goldberg play. I won’t be able to drink scotch with him and witness his anger or was it just enthusiasm? I will, however, never forget him.

6. I no longer live in Vermont, but followed Peter’s columns religiously when I did, and intermittently in the years since. His retirement was a major loss; his passing even more so.

7. Like an ankle biting terrier, Peter Freyne, in his column, struck me as someone who wouldn’t settle for less than the truth and would not suffer fools. Apart from his annoying habit of diminutizing the name of everyone he was pilloring I think he was a huge asset to a society where most of us seem to be content with a blurred representation of what is actually transpiring. His ‘lens’ on the political world here in Vermont will be sadly missed.

8. Peter Freyne, your pen was mightier than the sword, and your wit at least as sharp. You done good, Peter; you prodded us into wakefulness. Thanks, and Bon Voyage.

9. I liked Peter Freyne a lot. His work and style continues to influence and inform my work and style. Rough around the edges. A little bit in your face. He had a wry wit and a certain shabby grace. Thank you Peter. I’ll miss you.

10. I’d only come to know Peter a bit in the last few years, though I’d followed his career with interest since the 1980s. I’m sad that I won’t have the opportunity to get to know him better. Speeder’s hasn’t been the same without him. Vermont won’t be either.

11. Although Peter only showed up at the office on Tuesday afternoons, he filled the room all week. When he was around, he was a pain to work with – brash, blundering, self-absorbed and condescending. He was also an indispensable member of the Seven Days family, and like any family member, impossible not to love. He became easier to like toward the end of my tenure at the paper. Even before the cancer diagnosis, he’d turned a page in his life and become more open, humble and positive, with a broader, wiser outlook. It’s hard to imagine that the next time I visit Vermont I won’t run into him walking down Church Street or cruising aroudn on his bike. He was a complicated guy. I’m glad to have known him, and will miss him.

12. At one of my many sitdowns with him at the north end of the bar at Finnigans, Freyne once asked me, “Gallagher, what does it mean to be Irish?” After he rejected each of my halting attempts to answer, he said, “Being Irish mean never being able to take ‘yes’ for an answer.”Peter, you may have been the greatest Irishman I’ve ever known.

13. Peter, They hardly knew you. Kind, intelligent, tenacious and honest. A Vermont politician was not effective unless they made it into a story with his by-line. For better or worse. Thanks Peter.

14. Hearing of Peter’s passing this morning, I felt a need to get out of the office and be on a couple of the streets where he was often out and about, riding his bike. It was grey, quiet, a light snow was falling, and I was a little surprised to find that familiar scenes looked a little different knowing he was gone. But for everyone who knew him, Peter will always be part of Burlington and of Vermont.Mike Noble

15. Peter pissed me off many times. There can be no higher praise for a journalist.

16. I’ll be honest…I didn’t like Peter Freyne…I thought he was a biased, rude, moron. That being said, I never, ever missed his political column in Seven Days…always entertaining and provocative – he was the Howard Stern of political journalism (if you could call it that…) here in Vermont.

17. I met Peter for the first time not long after he arrived from Chicago. I think it was 1979 or 1980, somewhere right in there, when he decided to make Vermont his home. Even back then I knew that Peter was a special breed of reporter. I had been working mostly in radio news for several years. He pressed me for everything I knew about local politics and soon invited me to try print. I wrote several stories for him while he was the editor at Vermont’s first full scale news & arts weekly, the Vanguard Press. Our professional relationship took off. We worked side by side at the original WDOT starting in 1884 and collaborated on stories thereafter.Our personal friendship continued in spite of a few rough edges — not just his. Peter and I had our political differences, but I will always remember him as a great reporter. He taught me a thing or two. He was an even better writer. Masterful is the word that comes to mind. It had everything to do with his Irish heritage. He was truly one of a kind. There will never be another Peter Freyne.

18. What sad news. Peter’s column was required reading, the first thing I (and, I suspect, many others) would turn to in 7 Days each week. He knew his facts and always articulated his opinions about them in a uniquely clear, brash, and fundamentally entertaining style. Irreplaceable.

19. Back in the ’80s, I tried to make it in to Luenig’s for coffee every day. Part of the appeal was seeing Peter on his regular stool at the College St end of the bar. More often than not, that grin was on that face and a sparkle in his eye that said “I know something”. Sure enough, he’d lean over to me and that voice would say “Hey, did you hear about…” After a while we made it a game – Who knows what first. While I came up with a couple scoops, Peter could not be topped overall. He was among the many people I miss about living in Burlington and Vermont. God Speed, old Chum.

20. Peter’s absence is felt even by those of us no longer living in Vermont; his presence is felt in all who have ever loved it. RIP.

21. Three memories:I come home late one night to the apartment we shared for a couple of years on lower King Street. As I enter, I hear a recording of Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech coming over the speaker. Peter’s sitting in a darkened room. He’s drinking, of course, and has a candle burning. He starts to say something and stops. I see that he’s crying.I’m walking through the Old North End in the early morning hours. A light rain is starting to fall and the streets are deserted. Suddenly I hear laughter. An old bicycle – the kind with a big basket in front — crosses through the intersection in front of me. It’s Peter. He doesn’t see me. His attention is on the young lady riding in the basket. As he pedals on down the street, I hear the young lady begin to sing.The campaign for and against civil unions is the hot political issue of the day. Peter and I no longer share quarters, but we talk sometimes. He calls me on the phone. He has a story – like many of his best, it involves a politician’s hypocrisy. But writing it would shine a light on a third party’s sexual preferences. This third party is a gay man, out of the closet, but undeserving of public scrutiny of his sexual life. Should he go with the story? Would it be ethical? Would withholding the story be a cop-out, letting a hypocritical politician off the hook? “I wouldn’t run it,” I tell him. “Well, I’m not going to,” he said, “but I just wanted to check.”

22. I was saddened to hear of Peter’s passing. When I was doing news for WVAA, I met him at a press conference and found him to be one of the most knowledgeable, kind people I have had the honor of meeting.Peter, the Burlington political landscape won’t be the same without you.

23. My first job out of college was working at Seven Days. Because I had interned for Gov. Dean my senior year, Freyne would often chat politics with me. When I left Seven Days to work for Gov. Dean, I could still look forward to seeing Peter at the Governor’s weekly press conference. I’ve collected a lot of Freyne stories over the years, but here’s a classic:The setting was the Governor’s weekly press conference during a legislative session in the early 2000s. The legislature was working on legalizing medical marijuana, and one of the Governor’s complaints was that the delivery method of smoking was carcinogenic. A reporter asked what he would suggest, and the Gov. said seriously: “How about suppositories.” Silence swept over the press, and then Freyne was heard to quietly predict the headline: “Dean to Legislature: Stick it up your ass.”Freyne was witty, courageous, cranky, and tender-hearted. Peter, Vermont just won’t be the same without you.

24. My favorite memory of Peter is of him coming up to me outside Nectar’s, in 1996. I’d just written a piece for 7D about my Dad’s battle with cancer. His words of encouragement meant a lot to me as a young writer. I am grateful to have known him and will never forget him.

25. As an Irishman proud of his heritage, Peter was blessed with the gifts of gab and storytelling. Not only were his columns replete with political truth telling, the rare misjudgment, and lots of twinkley pokes, he was a true everyman. I was a total stranger when we met waiting for the light to change to cross Main Street at St. Paul a couple of years ago. By the time we had walked through City Hall park, up Church Street to the top, I knew a Cliff Notes version of his history, politics and how he got to Vermont and he heard mine. We were about to part ways on Pearl Street when on a whim, I invited him to our home for Thanksgiving dinner. Let me tell you, he was an incredibly gracious guest — he brought beverage, a signed copy of Chris Graff’s book, great company, an appreciation of food, and articulate homage to the Irish (which I share). It was great fun and no doubt there are as many stories about Peter out there as there folks with whom he had interaction. Atheism notwithstanding:May you have food and raiment,A soft pillow for your head,May you be forty years in heavenBefore the devil knows you’re dead.

26. Peter could be a pain in the ass, particularly in his last year or two on the job.
    However…
    I met him a day or two after I put my suitcase down. He was yelling at Sen. Leahy about something or other during a news conference at the Firehouse.
    I introduced myself, wondering if he was a preeminent local loon. He assured me was the preeminent Vermont journalist and shook his head sadly at me: I was the latest soon-to-be morsel for the Free Press maw.
    Thereafter, I'd sit down with him every now and then at Finnigan's to learn what I'd done wrong since we'd last met.
    I'll miss him, kind of. He was fearless, no small virtue in a reporter. He was not tolerant, but he was broadly social. He liked to talk and sometimes liked to listen.
    If he suffered doubts about his work, he kept it to himself. He surveyed the world from whatever bar-stool he inhabited for the moment. When he drank, all good men drank. When he stopped, only fools continued.
    He was an old-style reporter. He met people rather than hunkering down in front of a computer screen. He had passion.
    One by one, they disappear.

27. So he puts on a Hitler moustache and asks if he's the prez or VP. Hmm. Guy didn't live long enough to see The One take the oath of office.

28. In June 2001, I picked up my phone at the City of South Burlington. "Hi, this is Peter Freyne. Tell me, are you really a communist?" It was, as the saying goes, the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
    Peter couldn't walk away from the issues; he cared compulsively. His exasperating qualities were also his most endearing, uniquely and irreplaceably Peter.
    Give 'em hell in the hereafter, friend. We're counting on you.

29. My first job out of college was news director for WDEV and Peter was one of our stringers. He was really generous with someone so wet behind the ears and I learned a great deal from him. It was a thing of beauty to watch him pursue a line of questioning at a governor's press conference. I left that job and our paths didn't cross again until years later when I came to Channel 17. Together we produced the legislative program Point Counterpoint. It was so much fun to watch Peter question the pols – totally in his element. Of course many a time my phone would ring after the latest installment aired and Peter would let me have it because the audio wasn't perfect or he didn't like something else I had done. Tenacious, prickly, thoughtful and kind…you will be missed Peter.

30. When I saw the news in 7Days last week that Peter had missed his rounds at the local coffee shop, that an infection had spread to his brain and that someone had become his guardian, I suspected the future prospects were grim.
    It is a big loss, though his retirement from Inside Track was an even bigger loss.
    Unafraid is the best word I can think of to describe him. I told him once he loved to poke the bear. He laughed.
    Too bad this. Very sad news indeed. So few people left to poke the bears.

31. What a unique individual. Peter will be very much missed.

32. As someone who both worked with Peter and traded whiskeys with him for several years in the 90s I too experienced many of the quirky shades of Freyne when sober and not. It’s safe to say that there weren’t many differences to those moods whether he was charged up on a few glasses of Wild Turkey or the live theater of a press conference. Obviously he loved a good story and was instrumental in helping me drag one out years ago about a fascist school board in a sleepy little Vermont town. He was of course, a mentor of sorts and crabby old friend who appreciated the simple things in life while exposing some of the more cynical ones.My sense is that like Hunter Thompson, Peter saw a light extinguished in America when the Supreme Court handed the Presidency to an immature, insecure frat-boy from Texas back in December of 2000. Many of us felt the same way and for Peter, a different edge seemed to creep into his columns, more mad and sad than thrilled to skewer. While tragic he doesn’t get to live to see a new day take shape, I bet he rests a bit more peacefully now, knowing that the criminals were about to get thrown out of town, in DC at least. One of Peter’s creeds throughout the years of shared barstool excesses was “we don’t live for a long time, we live for a good time.” No doubt, Peter. No doubt.

33. I’m remembering so many wonderful, quirky, challenging conversations with Peter, always reading him first when I picked up Seven Days, how special I felt the couple of times he mentioned me in a column, his hilarious presentation at the Green Mountain Writers Conference a few years ago when he gave us the back story to some of his most famous political skewerings. I use several of his columns in class, especially when I’m trying to teach such intangibles as attitude, voice and confidence. Peter had them all. He was one in a million. Thank you Paula and Pamela and his other friends for your dedication and care of Peter in his last weeks. From Yvonne Daley, former reporter, Rutland Daily Herald, Boston Globe, now Journalism professor, San Francisco State University, and director of the Green Mountain Writers Conference.

34. Just got the sad news. What a wonderfully principled, passionate, insightful, caring, and uniquely creative life this man had. I’m not surprised to learn he was a fan of Mike Royko, who I read regularly in high school, paving the way for my appreciation for Mr. Freyne’s brand of tenacious political anthropology. Peter’s playful irreverence, informative muckraking, and occasional theatrical appearances will be missed. Someday, in honor of his contributions, there ought to be a Peter Freyne Award For Excellence in Political Journalism.

35. Shocked and sad. Last time I saw Peter a friend and I were running and chatting away! He commented on it! It made us pause (for a sec!) and laugh. I loved his column and it was missed. Now him. Thought he’d come back. Rest in piece, ANNE

36. Peter had a twinkle in his eye that indicated he was not afraid to speak or write the truth. I will miss that twinkle.

37. I already miss his shy/sly smile down on Church Street.

38. I read Peter’s column online and picked up Seven days whenever I was in VT. I didn’t always agree with him, but I always looked forward to reading his column and have missed it since this past summer. What a terrible day.

39. Peter had that rare and enviable gift of being able to make you laugh and cry at the same time. He was the forerunner to Tina Fey, skewering the powerful with devastating wit. Vermont is smaller without Peter’s humor, his writing, and him.

40. Vermont, and indeed the world, lost a very good friend today. We are heartbroken. I tended bar for years at a certain Church St. bistro and when Peter brightened that doorstep it always made my day.Thanks for keeping us honest, Peter.

41. Peter’s death is a terrible loss for local journalism and our community as a whole. I had the privilege of working with Peter at Seven Days in the late ’90s. Editing his copy was a great challenge — especially negotiating changes with him when he arrived at the office. He could be irascible, sure, but he was also a real pro who could be as generous with his appreciation as with his combative wit. About ten years earlier, as it turns out, our roles were reversed: He edited my first published article, in the old Vermont Vanguard. This was in 1988. I turned in a story on spec about Vermont’s nascent efforts to do business with Japan. I imagine it read like an essay for a college composition class — probably a freshman comp class at that. Peter told me that I could write okay but that I didn’t know how to write news copy. And then he taught me how. The test of our successful first collaboration is the fact that my article received an angry letter to the editor. I’ve missed “Inside Track,” and now I’m going to miss seeing him at Speeder’s and around the neighborhood. I’ll never forget that guy.

42. Peter:When I started as a bartender at Leunigs, my shift was Friday, 8PM till Close (2AM) . You were the “Happy Hour “(an archaic term made illegal by the Sate of Vermont Liquor Control Department) bartender, 2Pm till 8PM. I was always jealous of how everyone knew yon, and you knew everyone. I remember, as the breakfast bartender serving you Wild Turkey on the rocks in a coffee mug in the morning. Let’s face it. I was always in awe of you. I appreciate how kind you were to me. I’ll miss you.

43. After the big Phish show in Coventry in 2004, I had a big party at my downtown Burlington home on the following Monday night. The next morning, over-zealous cops thought they were finding a huge drug stash, broke down my doors with M-13s, tore the place apart and left with the absolute nothing I had. Feeling lost, confused, and like Homeland Security was breathing down my neck, I wrote to Peter hoping for a comforting word from a stranger but one whom I saw as a respected elder. He immediately wrote back asking if it was all right to call me – I gave him my number, and spent the next half-hour chatting about the bullshit I faced as a local ex-hippie, pro-grass head. He gave me hope and confidence that day when it could have come from nowhere else. It already doesn’t feel the same without him.

44. Thank god that that disgusting, alcoholic, lying pig of a man finally choked on his own vomit and died of the alcoholism that defined his life. Does anyone remember when as Press Secretary for Kunin, he responded to Free Press reporter Betsey Liley’s question with the statement “I wouldn’t tell you that if you sat on my face.” He couldn’t hold a real job for a full week.This world will be a much better place without Peter Freyne. Good riddance. By this time next year, no one will remember his name.

45. the empty pagewide and deepas a fieldharrowed withdirt turned upready for seedplenty of lighta little rainall they needfor a thoughtto arise sustainand recedea few cloudsmoonless nightsthe heart will bleedin solitudein silencebefore the mindis freedout onto the earthup into the skyto the endof the universei’ll hear theendless cryi was too busy livingto ever think i’d die

46. A generous, uncompromising and talented guy. Love him or hate him, he was utterly irresistable.

47. Peter is on my speed dial and I’m not sure I have the strength to delete the # ,even as I know he will never leave my heart,I’ve decided to leave him on my sim card.I came to Burlington in the early 80’s ,starting over,under 30 & got a job at Leunig’s…Port Authority… from & to which, all authentic interreactions took place, the ultimate pub,where the vino was veritus, When Pam was singing “We Don’t Go to Leunig’s, Anymore “, in those critical mass days.Peter taught me to bar-tend after Denny Morriseau,snatched me off “the floor”,the day Claudia Reynolds (the some station, weather girl)walked, on the 11-7 shift.He took me under his wing,called me a lassie,redirected my “mis-placed” passions gently,roared at me,winked me in & out of situations,I never saw coming , called on me to chauffer him to & from interviews ( we sneaked G. gorden Liddy into Leunig’s one night after,his interview with him. introducing him as our friend G….Boy we took some bullets,smugly, the next day fot that one, )… I was fired from Leunig’s around Thanksgiving , the great coffee cup scandel, Peter called it..pocketing the dollar under the cups of the few endless refill bar customers…Peter had been invited to Dennis & Laura’s house (The original Leunig’s owners) They told him not to bring”you know who”..I was innocently preparing my first turkey cooking Thanksgiving,smiling through my tears,for a few friends; Peter was invited…he came and it was someone else,more than a year later,who let me know he had declined the Morriseau’s invite for my experimental,pathetic,Crachett’s (sp?) Thanksgiving.Most of all he listened, really listened , nodded and truly cared …he hugged fearlessly and often..could always remember who said it,whether current or arcane, and always considered the “other side” ; beguiling,quietly entreating ,gently, all the while delicately stacking their chips into a mental pyre. Then, he would lay back and they would relax too,and suddenly he would triumphantly produce his rightious torch,light the fire & bellicosely (sp?)dance around it,as it burned to the ground, while I observed in awe.There are still too many people alive for me to share some of my most soul etched,Peter confidences…But he is a resource that I have in the subsequent 30 years come to measure authenticity by. When I listened to my favorite Cole Porter cd today…I realized that…Blow, Gabriel,Blow,was a pun,that I know Peter,has already gotten…I am a better person for knowing & loving him…I am better at knowing & loving because of him.. He was warrior fresh off the streets of Gaul when I met him…& his impact will continue to scar & carry me onto,Gabriel, and tell him , that he, Gabriel, can blow me !..Posted by: Leslie Hix |

48. It is my hope that the nurses of FAHC will always remember Peter Freyne. When we organized our union, he knew most of us did not live in the world of politics, scandal and hot gossip – the world he so loved to write about. There wasn’t much “dirt” on us, but we did take on the big corporate hospital and their union-busters. We believed we could make our hospital better – and we kept winning. (He loved an underdog!) He attended our press conferences, listened to our struggles and at times he weaved our stories into his column. He told us that we might not like everything we read – he could be a harsh critic with a sharp wit and a razor-like edge to his words – and we knew it. We would wait for the Wednesday drop-off and nervously read Inside Track to see what he wrote. He was always kind to us. When he was no longer doing his Seven Days gig, I bumped into him at Speeder’s on Pine. He told me he had a secret. I listened intently. He made me think it was something BIG! He said he always had a soft spot for the FAHC nurses……but hated seeing us at the hospital. And then he told me that we “dropped the ball in negotiations because you didn’t ask for wireless internet in every patient room.” He thought it was outrageous!I hated seeing Peter in the hospital, too, but that was the only time I hated seeing Peter. He made me laugh, he asked tough questions, he enjoyed being a bit mysterious, he was kind and he was so clever. He made me wish I could spend more time listening to him – asking him what he thought of this or that. He always made time to chat. I will miss the mischievous twinkle in his eye that could be seen as recognized an opportunity flex his funny bone. He knew how to tell a story – charming, funny, but watch out for the punch line – it could really knock the wind out of you if you weren’t ready! He always seemed to have a great time having a great time. The world just doesn’t seem the same knowing I can’t anticipate spotting him out and about.

49. I was shocked to hear of Peter’s passing. It hadn’t made the dailies down here in Southern Vermont/Central New Hampshire and I hadn’t heard about it until I spotted the e-mailed tribute from Congressman Peter Welch. I then checked the Free Press web site — nothing. It wasn’t on the e-mail list of Rutland Herald headlines either. I finally went to the Seven Days website to find out what happened. I met Peter a couple of times and I never missed his column whenever I was near a copy of Seven Days (and before that, the Vanguard). The last time I saw Peter was at a forum on drug policy in Montpelier, or, as Peter liked to call it, “Montpeculiar.” Windsor County State’s Attorney Bobby Sand and U.S. Attorney Tom Anderson were on opposite sides of the marijuana issue, and it was a very interesting forum. Since I live in Claremont, NH, and nowhere near the Seven Days circulation area, I went on line a few days later to find the on-line version of Seven Days in order to find out what Peter had written about it. His column was a great read, as always, and I’ll miss him.

50. yea, it’s too bad he passed away. BUT, he did cause a lot of unnecessary drama within the news world (esp with WCAX). he really never got his facts straight and complained way too much about the television news business. yea, he’ll be missed… but not that much. goodnight and good luck mr. freyne.

51. I feel the need to respond to Gringo…someone Peter would have loved to get to the bottom of…because he/she obviously operates from the bottom and is soo very comfortable ,bragging about their ignorance…The facts are that Peter,when he was and would have stayed Madeline’s Press Secretary,had not the rest of the “world” been so nubile & prosecutive, about confusing the medium with the message,was OVERHEARD by a reporter (who was so desperate for a story ,that he/she was willing to exploit a trendy tempest in a teapot)…speaking to a female reporter, who was secure enough to get a kick out of his metaphor at leisure,speaking to his confidentiality by saying “if you sit on my face,I still won’t tell you”. Subsequently ,the overheard conversation made the front page…Do you think the female that Peter was speaking with wasn’t using sexual suggestiveness to unlock the information in the first place? Peter recognising his “victim” of the times position…& having more respect for Madeline,than his egotistical rightiousness,resigned out of sage & grace…Excuse you,gringo for having a sandbox ax to grind and exploiting a dead soothsayer to “hide “behind….many of us ,who are still here ,are not fooled…that you are foolish is now obvious in general…congratulations ,on using Peter as a forum to advertise your ignorance,with. Since most of his constituants are civil and evolved beyond your sad amoeba status ,we’ll wink at eachother,about you…He had the grace to accept this…You need to ask Santa for some of that grace for Christmas ,next year …And please be greatful that those of us who support our local zoos are already, benevolently enduring your lack of extinction,as it is.

52. I was working as the Director of the King Street Youth Center, and the Center (as neighborhood folks called it) was very involved in organizing the King Street neighborhood on issues that really mattered to the people who lived there. Very working class, very tough. The Vanguard was just starting up, and their new reporter came by to report on the enviornmental issues that was impacting neighborhood kids who played around the barge canal, where most of them fished and went swimming. People organized, and the end result was enviornmental action that created the super fund site.The neighborhood was tough, and so was the reporter, Peter Freyne. We’ve already missed Peter now for some time, but his death really saddenned me. We’ll miss you, Peter.

53. In the late 90’s when Peter was sick with pneumonia – his first time maybe? – I visited him in the hospital. As I was leaving he said he getting freed the following day and would i come and drive him home.Next day, on the way to his apartment he ‘guided’ me in the direction of the Pearl St. liquor store. I said no way you just had a close one, don’t push it. He responded there was no booze in the apartment, and if i didn’t he would just walk back after i dropped him off.With his passing, we lost great access and insight into our state government, a good Irishman and a fair gambler on the horses in Saratoga.

54. Peter told the truth about vermont politicos and didnt care if they liked it or not….i dont believe we will get that insight from the traditional media..too bad he kept them on their toes and didnt blink at bashing the Free Press and WGOP (WCAX) kudos to Parsons at CAX for running a story on him and a follow up on the effects of cancer!! Ralph Wright what is up with your “OH” comments???

55. When you walk this earth treating people the way he did…he died the way he deserved to die….alone.

56. Ah, but Peter did not die alone; every Irish saint and dead patriot carried him in triumph to St. Peter’s Gate. And who wants to bet the crowd at his memorial will exceed both “Happy’s” and “Gringo’s” combined. Love him or hate him, one was never indifferent to him. And that was just the way he liked it. See Gringo and Happy, you too were under his spell as well. What he wanted most was his enemies at his funeral, checking to make sure he was really dead. Peter, my dear old friend, “Mission Accomplished.”

57. Peter was not alone. He was surrounded by those who appreciated him, were challenged by him, respected him, and who ultimately loved him. As he, and we all, deserve.

58. Gringo, I imagine you’ve been carrying that anger for quite a long spell. You can let it go now, my friend. Peter has moved on. You can, too.

59. Here’s to my former Vanguard Press colleague and fellow-traveler in the noble but otherwise inglorious pursuit of speaking truth (frankly, precisely, accurately, invigoratingly) to power.Aw, shit.

60. This blog is getting to be like the proverbial Irish wake. There must be a bottle of Jameson’s around here somewhere, eh?If there was ever a pebble in a politician’s shoe, Peter was it. He knew politics and government in Vermont like few ever have, and he wrote it all down without fear and with flair.Slan agus beannacht leat Padraig…Goodbye and blessings with you Peter.

61. Freyne’s fans are just sadistic voyeurs, egging on the school bully for the joy of seeing someone skewered in public. Surely Seven Days will come out with one last edition dedicated to the man and for one last time trade on his mean-spirited gossip column for a healthy profit. So who’s the worst: The bully; the crowd egging him on; or, the profiteer, trading on the worst of human nature for some coin.

62. Hear! Hear! Except, Mike, that for old Peter, the bottle of Irish Whiskey he’d endorse would be Bushmill’s, the only thing to which I ever saw him genuflect (or was that a stumble?)

63. I was deeply saddened to hear about the passing of Peter Freyne. I cannot think of a better barometer regarding the political climate of Vermont than Peter. One can only hope that another writer with half his talent and integrity exists somewhere within our reach. Vermonters lost an absolute treasure with his passing. Give ’em hell wherever you are, Mr. Freyne!

64. Peter Freyne’s passing has also hit ‘the other side of the Lake.’ As a former PoliSci professor, I would often cite his column as a ‘must read’ for students in State and Local Politics classes. His was an old-school type of journalism that, looking past what his subjects often saw as bombast and bluster, went beyond mere reporting, but in-depth research in digging out the information that would complete a story. For those in seats of political power, there was a begrudging understanding that, at one time or another, they would be skewered by this proud Irishman.It is sad that he is not around to hear and read all that is being said about him, but, if there is an after-life, we can be assured that those eyes are twinking and the laughs are constant. While I shared the shyness that all saw in Peter, I followed his career almost as a stalker. When he was struck by cancer, I became aware of it before he shared it with his readers as I would constantly see him in the halls of VMC. When he beat it, it was a wonderful time only to be tempered by his ‘retirement’ to Speeder & Earls. Although I lost a citation for Vermont State Politics, I would bow & acknowledge his place in this world every time I passed his watering hole on Pine Street. It will never be the same, nothing is ‘they’ say, but we are richer for knowing him.

65. The Cardinal Rule of Columnists is, “Thou Shalt Not Bore.” Until the final years when the spirit was willing but the flesh was weak, Peter never transgressed. Rest in peace Peter, and give my regards to Michael Collins.

66. Regarding the few over the top, more-than-negative, responses: Perhaps we might remind ourselves, at least in this instance: If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. The debate is over, Peter as we knew him is gone; please let those who wish to pay homage and express grief and gratitude do so with respect and peace.

67. “the bottle of Irish Whiskey he’d endorse would be Bushmill’s”No freakin’ way. Really? Well that explains the odd look he gave me when I complained to him at the 7 Days Party that the only Irish Whiskey they had was this “orange” Bushmills stuff, rather than Jameson.Wonder which one he’s finding is served at the bar upstairs, eh?

68. Peter could be infuriating, and he would say the same about me. I remember what it would feel like when Peter would pick up on something and ask a few questions with a look that was not a “twinkle” – that sounds way too innocent. His eyes bent and reflected light back at you in a way that made you know you were cooked, or at the very least, you were at risk of losing yet another layer of protective veneer.My friends have often told me that my skin is not thick enough for politics. And, if my skin was supposed to become thick enough that Peter’s acerbic derision and teasing monikers wouldn’t hurt, it’s true, it was never thick enough. But to develop skin that thick would require that you just stop listening and that would be a big mistake. Peter’s words could hurt. They wouldn’t have if they didn’t contain so much truth. Peter could make me laugh so hard. He was always looking for a con or a motive, and he usually found one that was at least partly real. He was genuine and he spoke the truth as he saw it, though often not with grace. I miss Peter Freyne. I would like to have a conversation with him, especially now that it wouldn’t end up in whatever he was working on next.

69. Peter and I became friends when we worked together at the old Vanguard Press and WDOT radio. Back in those days, we were part of a motley crew that stayed up too late and prowled the bars, talking to anyone and everyone about nothing in particular. It may be interesting for some to know that Peter is a double scorpio which of course fits his mecurial, double-sided nature. I never forgot this fact as Peter climbed the road to media success; knowing that he would skewer a friend as fast as a foe. A few years later while working within the administration of Bernie Sanders, Peter stopped by every day to make sure I was taking care of the “people’s business” and not the mayor’s political agenda. I, and a lot of other appointees, ended up working a lot of double shifts as a result. Make no mistake about it, Burlington would not be the award winning city it is without the hot dogging, paternal smile of Peter Freyne. Goodbye Peter.

70. What a long strange journey that Peter andI had for twenty-plus years. From our firstmeeting in the basement of the old VANGUARDoffice on College Street to many hours ofdiscussion at his offices — the third barstoolat Esox and later to the third barstool atFinnegans. We were both Irish-descended andhopeless political junkies. I cannot countthe numbers of times when we would be the onlypolitical observers at some obscure candidatesdebate at some obscure church basement ormiddle school.We traded freely in political gossip. I oftenrelied upon him when I needed a quick assessmentof some public event and he relied upon me forsome arcane political fact. For most of ourshared years, it was a mutually (but not always)beneficial relationship.I was one of the few who urged Governor MadeleineKunin to hire Peter as her press secretary in 1989and later to urge Sue Gillis to hire him for theold VERMONT TIMES and was one of those who poniedup a hiring bonus for SEVEN DAYS to give Peterhis most consistent outlet for his unique talents.The Vermont press has no tabloid newspaper akinto the BOSTON HERALD or the NEW YORK POST.But Peter’s column came close to a tabloid stylewith its quick-hitting commentary, names in boldfaceand nicknames for public officials, some positive,others not so.Pamela rightly pointed out that some of Peter’s”victims” became his sources. It also could runin the opposite direction when some of Peter’ssources became his victims.Peter Freyne, the son of an Irish Republican Armyveteran and a one-time good Catholic who seriouslyconsidered the priesthood would appreciate thisIrish blessing.Do not stand at my grave and weep,I am not there… I do not sleep.I am the thousand winds that blow…I am the diamond glints on snow…I am the sunlight on ripened grain…I am the gentle autumn rain.When you waken in the morning’s hush,I am the swift uplifting rushOf gentle birds in circling flight…I am the soft star that shines at night.Do not stand at my grave and cry?I am not there… I did not die…Godspeed PeterGarrison

71. All our love to Seven Days, his close friends, and family.May the four winds blow you safely home Peter.

72. As much as Mike Royko might have been Peter’s hero, Peter was my journalistic hero. From the early 1980s, when I had the good fortune to come to Vermont to become the head of the Lake Champlain Regional Chamber of Commerce, to my current work as managing editor of Business People-Vermont magazine, Peter’s terrier-like approach to the news and his consummate journalistic integrity earned him a high place in my esteem. Although our paths crossed only once or twice a year (the last time I saw him was at the 2008 Daisies), he always had a smile and a wisecrack. Godspeed, Peter.

73. Anonymous and Happy, It shocks surprises me that you can say Peter will be missed “not that much,” and that he died “alone” smack in the middle of this flood of comments commending and remembering his life and work. May any of us be so lucky as to have as many eyes cloud with tears when we pass.

74. Well, I imagine Peter’s sharing a few pints of the good stuff with Uncle Peter over a few crude sexual remarks on the other side of the wire.I knew Peter for more than two decades, but really got to know the softer post-cancer Peter over coffee after coffee after coffee after coffee over the last year down at Speeder’s where Peter spent the last months of his life presiding as the shop’s de-facto Mayor. Peter had come to appreciate his life as he never had before and he filled me with that appreciation. I’m sorry now that his days are gone as I am that the time that I had to know him were as short as they were.

75. Peter will be missed as he asked the hard political questions that few other journalists were willing or capable to ask.

76. I remember interviewing Peter for a community history project my sophomore year at BHS. Each student was to produce a page for a book on notable folks in the community. I tried to make the process easy for him, or so I thought, by sending him an e-mail questionnaire. Peter wasn’t having it; he was going to make me do some work for this project. First he sent me flippant answers to my questions of “How do you define politics? From latin Poli-(many) tic (a blood sucking creature) so politics is a collection of blood sucking creatures.” I was a bit ticked off after this. I explained that I was just trying to make it easier for him; he went off about the lazy cut-and-paste journalism that is the norm and is encouraged in our institutions these days. Peter insisted that if he was going to participate we were to meet face-to-face. I reluctantly agreed… nobody else in the class was doing this much work. We met up at Nectar’s. After our email correspondence, my expectations for him were low. As it turned out, Peter was incredibly generous with his time and insights on life and politics. I was so engaged that I gave up on taking notes. The final project ended up being more of an essay than a Q&A, unlike my peers’ projects. I had a decent piece of journalism and even got an A+, when I would have been happy with a C+. Peter cited his time as a taxicab driver in Chicago as a major force in his development as a journalist. He told me that “getting outside the norm- the box” and attempting to experience life from different perspectives is key to finding the truth in the world. Peter, irascible but never erasable, you will be missed.

77. I was lucky to intern with the Vermont Times before I moved on to the Hardwick Gazette after graduation. Although I’m far removed from the journalism field now, reading Peter’s column always brought back memories. Thanks, Peter.

78. As a UVM student, and then later as a reporter at WCAX-TV in the 1990s, I NEVER missed Peter’s column. You just couldn’t. He always had the scoops. As a journalist, I learned an incredible amount from reading him in print, and observing him at press conferences. His prose, wit and dogged pursuit of the story always impressed me, and frankly, often intimidated me. I wanted to do it as well as Peter did. I left Vermont 8 years ago, but kept in touch with Peter via email. He was always supportive and interested in my life and career in South America; I always read “IT” online to keep up on the latest VT happenings…and to be reminded how a journalist’s job is to tell the tough stories, no matter what. Vaya con Dios, Pedro.

79. During the years I lived in Burlington, the first thing I read when I picked up the weekly paper was Peter Freyne’s column. I didn’t always like what he wrote, but he made me think, he kept me in touch with what was going on in Vermont, and he made me laugh (especially with the funny names he gave to politicians). He will be greatly missed and always remembered.

80. No journalist can ever, will ever fill his penetrating style with elected officials. I’ve lost a friend, a constituent and a look-a-like-on-a-bike.

81. When I saw the notice come into my e-mail inbox from Seven Days that Mr. Freyne had passed away, it was like a punch to the gut. Being relatively young (26) and not having always been a follower of political goings-on, I didn’t get turned onto Peter’s writing until the last few years of his contributions. But even so, in that short time, I cannot help but be very saddened by his passing; he really represented that truly Vermontian aspect, wherein we as a state are not content to settle for the uncouth status quo, whatever we deem it to be. He will be missed.

82. From the editor:A couple people have inquired whether we might delete the few negative comments on this memorial thread. I just wanted to let everyone know that I thought about that possibility yesterday, and decided to leave them up. By the time I had seen the comments, other people had responded, and it seemed more appropriate to allow that conversation to take place here — mainly because it’s about Peter, who was loath to censor any comments on his own blog. And he got some bad ones.I think I’m afraid to cross him, even now. But that could change. It really is in extremely poor taste to post nasty, anonymous comments about someone who just died, even if the person in question was as “prickly” as Peter. That’s a nice euphemism, I think.I had a sometimes rocky relationship with Peter — as others have noted, he wasn’t always easy to work with — but I always respected and even admired him. I hadn’t seen him since before his latest illness, but I miss his presence here and around town. I feel lucky to have known him.Thanks again to everyone who has written to us.We plan to excerpt some of these in the newspaper next week.– Cathy Resmer, Online Editor

83. Tá daoine a shiúlann inár saolta agus shiúlann amach astu go luath,Tá daoine a fhanann ar feadh tamaill,Agus fágann siad rianta a gcos ar ár gcroíthe,Agus casann ár n-anamacha port nua go deo deo.Some people come into our lives and quickly go,Some people stay awhile,And leave footprints on our hearts,And we are never, ever the same.

84. Thank you Peter for always “telling it like it is!” I appreciated the mutual respect we shared in the work that each of us did. We always knew, without having to say it, that we were committed to making this a better world. You did a good job.

85. I got my first glimmer of an insight into Peter Freyne when I read his story about being the son of an IRA gunman. His passion for the Irish Civil War seemed unabated after all those years. Then, when I learned he had been a seminarian, it seemed the other shoe had dropped. He was funny, caustic, moody, provocative, but most of all he was original in an industry that once was populated by originals but has become distressingly corporate of late. One wonders if his particular footsteps will ever be filled again.

86. My god…what a bunch of hypocrites….. I personally know most of you self-loving-psuedo-journalists who have commented here. You all hated Peter…said nothing nice about him and wished him dead when he was alive…well you all got your wish….

87. Peter kicked me when I was down. I called him on it and he laughed. If ever there was someone who deserved to suffer it was him.

88. The corner stool at Leunig’s Bistro should have his name plate on the seat!

89. HASHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!Peter Freyne is dead.He was a vicious HACK, a self important scmbg who masquraded under the title “journalist”…I’m overjoyed to hear the news of his demise and Im glad as hell he’ll never get to see the Soviet takeover of America on Jan 20 I out lasted you you piece of shit, and Ill outlast that pedophile Peter Kurth as wellFuck You Freyne!HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!Death to the Left!HDYLMN?M.H.

90. PETER FREYNE IS DEAD!Mr. HAPPY STILL LIVES!HOW DO YOU LIKE ME NOW?FCK BURLINGTON & the P.E.R.V.(Peoples Republic of Vermont)HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

91. Some years ago, when I served in the Vermont legislature, I noticed with amusement how eager I and my colleagues were to grab the hot-off-the-presses copies of Seven Days on Tuesday afternoons. We would immediately rip it open to “Inside Track” to see who was getting gored that week–it was almost as much of an honor to be ridiculed by Peter’s incisive wit as it was to be praised by him. I remember the glow I felt when Peter reacted to a speech I made defending civil unions by commenting, “Rep. Jordan had it exactly right. . . .” Some years before that, when I was a lobbyist for Planned Parenthood, I happened to be in the governor’s ceremonial office when Peter made a highly offensive, sexually harassing comment to reporter Betsy Liley of the Free Press. This was shocking–I considered Betsy a friend and I knew from my own experience how women at the state house were sometimes treated by men who seemed to think they owned the place The thing of it is, I don’t think Peter meant that remark quite the way it came out and I also don’t think he meant to hurt Betsy, who was one of the better reporters of the day. It seemed to just roll out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to rein it in. He had to step down as Gov. Kunin’s press secretary and served his deserved time in purgatory for it–I think Gov. Kunin was right when she observed he was more successful as a critic of state government than as a representative of it.But over the years, I came to respect the thoroughness with which he would track down a story and his courage in asking questions no one else would ask. Many wrongs were eventually addressed and even righted because Peter persisted–his tenacity in uncovering the mess at Fletcher Allen a few years back comes to mind. Even after I left politics and, ultimately, Vermont, I religiously read Peter’s column so I keep up with what was really going on under the Golden Dome and in the halls of power. Although he could be biting, he was never bitter, and he did all Vermonters a great service by holding Vermont politicians and policy makers to high ethical standards with wit and panache. He was one of a kind and although we weren’t close, I, like many others, feel blessed to have known him and very sad at his passing. A giant has fallen, and to paraphrase Sandburg, a huge empty space remains. Hopefully, an equally talented, curious, and insightful journalist will someday fill it. Peter would like that, I think.

92. Wasn’t it Peter Freyne who a few years ago “outed” a Burlngton public official (I won’t repeat his name here) for having a personal ad on a dating website? Somehow, Peter was tipped off to it. Peter could have taken the high road. Nope. As I recall Peter identified the individual and reprinted part of the poor guy’s ad. There was absolutely, positively no reason to do this, other than Peter’s vicious, mean-spirited glee at hurting someone. He even publicly reported that the guy begged him not to run the story. That was an extra little twist of the knife. The fact that the guy had a personal ad had absolutely nothing to do with the guy’s job or his performance of that job. It was just an example of pure, spiteful meanness. I didn’t and still don’t personally know the guy whom Peter destoyed and I definitely don’t share his politics. But I felt extremely sorry for him. What Peter did was an outrageously mean thing to do. And it was completely unnecessary.That was the Peter Freyne that I saw.

93. While Peter was the first to recognize that irony is the strongest force in the universe, he’d also note the lack of irony behind the fact that those few who have come here to savage him are also those who don’t have the balls to sign their names to their drivel.I didn’t always agree with Peter and, in fact, I was occasionally enraged by him, but Peter signed his name to everything he put in print.

94. Hear, hear.

95. Fine. He put his name in print when he told only part of the story, when he lied, when he spun, when he savaged, when he gratuitously destroyed. Great. Signing you’re name when you print dirt is something to be proud of? To be lionized for? Hope that makes you feel better.

96. I was saddened to read about Peter’s passing and it has rekindled many memories I have of the guy, but one in particular from a long time ago.I met Peter soon after moving to Burlington in 1981. I was working at City Hall, in the Planning Office, and Peter was working at making the transition from radio news to print journalism. In that capacity, we would often talk shop at City Hall (the ‘Puzzle Palace’ as he sometimes called it), and our friendship extended to Leunig’s for morning coffee or most any other bar for a cold adult beverage in the evening.One afternoon Peter stopped by City Hall for no particular reason, and in the course of our conversation, he let on that the Vermont Vanguard had finally purchased a story he was pursuing. Looking back, I don’t recall the topic and it really isn’t important. What I do remember is the wonderful sense of pride and humility Peter expressed when I congratulated him. On the one hand, he was rightfully excited that a byline and paycheck now confirmed his identity as a print journalist. On a deeper level, Peter also understood he was joining a storied fraternity he had long admired. For Peter, journalism was a vocation as opposed to a career path and he was able to convey the distinction to me in a few sentences. It was the kind of innocent moment one would not typically associate with Peter, and one I will not forget.

97. Peter is one of the biggest characters I met when I came into the b-town scene in the early 80’s. I know I rubbed him the wrong way roller skating around the daily planet having fun while he sat alone in his trench coat on his barstool forever the keen observer. I always read inside track before anything else in 7 days. The column only got better as the years progressed. Peter changed from a big, glumphy loner and cynical guy in a trenchcoat to a beautiful, fit ,cynical guy with more friends than he could imagine. I am so sad that he has passed on but his memory will be with me for a long time.andrea Miksic

98. It has taken me a few days to compose my thoughts for this blog. Frankly, I’ve been dismayed by the utter lack of manners, tact, and respect by a select few of the posters. I had a love/hate relationship with Freyne. Some of the things he wrote infuriated me; I felt he went beyond a journalist’s role and was there purely for entertainment’s sake. Other times, and more often than not, I appreciated that he asked the questions we, as the public, wanted/needed to know. Regardless of what you thought of him, I believe he was one of the few Vermont journalists who didn’t toe the line, he was there to get the story. Peace to you, Peter.

99. As one who had made it through lymphoma treatment only two months before Peter had to confront his own treatment and mortality, I was pulling for him all the way, wishing him well, never thinking that in the end the pernicious side-effects would get him. While Peter may indeed have been mean-spirited on occasion in life (who hasn’t been?), as miserably angry and bitter “Gringo” and “Happy” tell us anonymously now that he is dead, Peter will be remembered by so many of us for exposing arrogance, hypocrisy, and corruption and for delighting also in the smaller pleasures of life, usually with a twinkle in his eye. And so, a traditional farewell paean in memory of our own crusty, albeit sometimes tarnished Don Quixote of Burlap– Tally-ho The Parting Glass Of all the money that e’er I had,I spent it in good company.And all the harm I’ve ever done,alas it was to none but me.And all I’ve done for want of witto mem’ry now I can’t recall;So fill to me the parting glass,Good night and joy be to you all. So fill to me the parting glassAnd drink a health whate’er befallsAnd gently rise and softly call Good night and joy be to you allOf all the comrades that e’er I had,They’re sorry for my going away.And all my sweethearts that e’er I had,They’d wish me one more day to stay.But since it fell unto my lot,That I should rise and you should not,I gently rise and softly call,Good night and joy be to you all. Fill to me the parting glassAnd drink a health whate’er befallsAnd gently rise and softly call Good night and joy be to you allBut since it fell unto my lot,That I should rise and you should not,I gently rise and softly call,Good night and joy be to you all. Fill to me the parting glassAnd drink a health whate’er befallsAnd gently rise and softly call Good night and joy be to you allGood night and joy be to you all

100. Cathy Resmer wrote:From the editor:A couple people have inquired whether we might delete the few negative comments on this memorial thread. I just wanted to let everyone know that I thought about that possibility yesterday, and decided to leave them up. By the time I had seen the comments, other people had responded, and it seemed more appropriate to allow that conversation to take place here — mainly because it’s about Peter, who was loath to censor any comments on his own blog. And he got some bad ones.I think I’m afraid to cross him, even now.But that could change. It really is in extremely poor taste to post nasty, anonymous comments about someone who just died, even if the person in question was as “prickly” as Peter. That’s a nice euphemism, I think.[…]—————When I first read the cowardly anonymously posted comments in question last week, my initial reaction was to also ask they be taken down. Yet, quickly enough, had realized as well that doing so would end up muting the conversation taking place by others who responded.In addition, it could be exactly what some of these needy, hate mongering trolls are seeking, at least in part and whether they are aware of it or not anyway.As awful as their words might be, including some rather ugly ones posted after your comment about such, I would urge that if at all possible you do not change course within this particular comment thread. And, yes, it is rather obvious there are some who are bent on pushing that envelope.In the end, let them have their say and allow us the option of continuing to simply ignore them as they deserve and, as always, Peter would have the last laugh about such too.Don’t give them the satisfaction.That said, one thing to consider doing however is, since I assume you have the ISP and other related information on your end regarding each comment, you could always opt to post such information for all to see so we could know the sources of these comments (although I am sure the 7Days lawyers may have a word to say about this too).It is just a thought.

101. why be sadwhen one so noblegoes passing bywasn’t it hewho in his goingsaid not nil nor nighleave a little slacklet a bit more lineeach and every tyinglessons from the vineall the things i wonderthere so far awayone day soon will answerthe question of today

102. “As the years roar by, we know Mr. Happy is not “happy”.There is more meaning in the passing of our great Patriot, Peter Freyne — and writer of all known sins amongst us all. There is meaning in the actual gall and initiative that makes us write what we know – and publish it. Our friend, our compadre was such a person who held no CARES — as to what the concequences may or would have been. There was a bravitiy to publishers who recognized this, years before and after — with shades of oppression and turmoil from the 60’s & 70’s haunting us all for seemed like centuries. There was a cry and pleading to make things known, and a notion to make it at least into satire, if nothing else, to enlighten others to this so-called right: “Freedom of The Press”. Those who didn’t get the satire were left behind, or maybe still catching up?!Having been part of a huge effort in Vermont, with others seeking the same reality – we found what we were looking for with refuge but cold temps; after the chaos in the cities and campuses of the 60’s.We found a beautiful, magnificent state that was willing to put up with our need for an outlet from all the oppression from Watergate, the Viet Nam War etc., a state that was always, and ever remain, our home. There were people from the pig farms in New Mexico, and folks from Oregon…Chicago – we were family, and eventually Vermont became our home.Peter personified our goals — and took the price at an early age, dealing with it all …not only gracefully but with swords – which were sure to terrify some, but knowing to others.Our Golden Age of Leunig’s is gone. Our many discussions in many pubs are merely echos in the still, will and crazy nights that still exist – and you can believe we still miss it.But our love for the truth – our love for Peter and ‘straight-talkin’ journalist’ like him will keep on, no matter how far, or how distant we are from Church St.Here’s to our mentor, our friend, our Compadre M. Freyne –I see you, and it’s a beautiful light out here in California, the moon is waxing – and setting over the ocean.”After you leftI spread sandon the doorstepthen turned my backto sit and waitTwelve days I have dozedand chased my dreamsand still there isno footprint” –Unknown (at least to me)They said I would shine Like the light in the cityI hoped it would be like the moonon the sea.here’s seeing you on the sea on the west coast my friend….love,lizi

103. I have known Peter forever it seems. We had both New York and Chicago connections as well as that cementing bond of Irish ancestry. We would often greet each other with a line of Irish poetry or Irish song and the other would answer with the next line. Our last email exchange, appropriately, was the Irish Blessing and only the last line was left unsaid. So I will say it now with tears still in my eyes…And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

104. shit.guess when you leave burlington, you’re the last to know.It’s ironic to know that just yesterday i mentioned to someone, can’t remember who, that peter and i had had a fascinating conversation about his father some year’s back. (As of yesterday, I didn’t yet know that Peter had died.) I recall saying to Peter after we shared our families’ histories, (being a Collins, we’ve got a few things in common), I said to him, “So, when are you going to write the book? You NEED to write the book, you know.” He gave me that cheshire cat smile and never answered the question. I thought at the time, and still do, if anyone could have written the definitive story of the tumultuous Irish in the early 20th century, it would have been Peter. And it would have been a damn good read!I’m sorry he’s gone. Peter was my favorite iconoclast.peace peter, wherever you are.mary collins

105. I crossed paths with Peter Freyne during the mid-90s, when he was raking the muck for the Vermont Times and Seven Days and I was a young reporter for WPTZ. Peter schooled the rest of us in a variety of ways. I remember waiting for news conferences with then-Governor Howard Dean and Peter saying, “What are you gonna ask him?” Like most of his questions, he seemed to have several motives. He was naturally curious, he seemed interested in what the competition was doing, what path the news was taking next. It occurs to me it was also his way of suggesting we think carefully about these Q and A sessions. Be strategic. Have a plan. It was a prod: with every question, you have an opportunity and a responsibility. Don’t waste it. Now, years down the road, I see Peter as a great role model for the rest of us. Always digging, always asking the tough questions, always sticking up for the average person, who generally has little access to those in power and therefore no voice. Afflict the comfortable and comfort the afflicted, indeed.As tough and relentless as he could be on the targets of his scrutiny, he was often very encouraging for young reporters in town, taking the time to mention in his column when someone was getting a promotion or a new job or getting married. His legacy reaches far and wide and includes a generation of journalists who learned the trade in Vermont and had the great luck to observe Peter in all his larger-than-life glory.

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