What a life: Frank Joe Peters
'I've never met somebody so connected to who they were'
When the Confederation Centre's Young Company staged its daily Dream Catchers show a few years ago, they always set a seat aside for Frank Joe Peters.
They weren't the only ones with a special place for Frank Joe.
He was a beloved elder in the Mi'kmaw community in Charlottetown and Lennox Island. Frank Joe died in late June in O'Leary.
I called up two people who knew him well.
"Oh my goodness," said Julie Pellissier-Lush. "I think he's always been a part of my life in one way or the other. When I was born, he knew my father in Lennox Island. He was definitely a very very big part of my life."
She paused to laugh.
"He was the elder who always came into my work, no matter where I was working, just to say hi and to give me a stick of Juicy Fruit gum."
'Close spiritual connection'
Lynn Bradley first met Frank Joe 20 years ago. He had just gotten sober after struggling with addiction for years.
Frank Joe threw himself into his community and to Alcoholics Anonymous. Lynn said he was a member of three different AA groups. He was just always giving back.
"I went up and I was able to spend a night with him while he was in the hospital so that his family could rest," remembered Lynn. "Even on his deathbed, he was still giving me teachings. That's how Frank Joe was. I've never met somebody so connected to who they were, that even in death, even in transitioning to the spirit world, they still showed that close spiritual connection."
Julie remembers that teaching too.
Sometimes, it came in the form of a well timed piece of advice.
Sometimes, it was drilling vocabulary words on a long road trip.
I'm so glad he had the opportunity to be able to connect with her, and then years later share that story with her daughter who desperately wanted to know more.— Julie Pellissier-Lush
"He would even try to teach me Mi'kmaw, which I really appreciated," she said. "He would say a word, and then he would give me a look like 'you know what that means,' and I would give him a look like, 'no, I really don't know that one!' He would tell it to me again, and he would wait for me to say it. He was very very patient with me."
She can still remember those lessons.
"Like kloqowej which was star, and pasge'g which was broken, and kamlamun which was heart. Those stuck with me, because he would be repeating them. And I think that's what I needed at the time to learn my language, which I had lost."
A teacher teasing
Lynn, who is Mohawk, received some of those Mi'kmaw lessons, too. Hers were served up with a bit of mischief.
"I had wanted to learn to speak some words in Mi'kmaw, so I had asked Frank if he could teach me a couple words," she said. "And he got me to say this sentence. I had repeated the sentence that he was trying to teach me and everybody started to laugh. Anyway, it turned out not to be a very nice sentence, this thing I had learned."
He loved hand drumming. I think he just connected to the drum.— Lynn Bradley
Julie said Frank Joe was a great teller of stories. His true gift was to give you the exact story you needed at the right time.
"He came to town shortly before he got really sick," she told me. "He just looked at me and said 'I wanted to let you know your mom was a really good cook.' Now, my mom passed away when I was three, so I am always searching for stories about my mom from different people who knew her, who grew up with her. And instantly, my eyes got all wide, and I said 'oh really. What was your favourite meal that she cooked?' And he said asha'wey. And asha'wey is a potato and bacon soup that is really amazing with the right salt and pepper. And I could just imagine it," she continued.
"All of a sudden, his story just came alive in my mind with the idea she was sitting there peeling potatoes and frying up bacon and making this big huge feast of asha'wey for all the people in her lives, all the people who might stop in to visit. And I'm so glad he had the opportunity to be able to connect with her, and then years later share that story with her daughter who desperately wanted to know more."
While visiting his family in Tignish, Lynn recently found some old cassette tape recordings of Frank Joe. She didn't realize he was a guitar player and singer.
"I wanted to save them for two reasons," she said. "Because Frank had been such an important person in my life. Second of all, Frank had been diagnosed with throat cancer and was losing his voice. I wanted people to hear what his voice sounded like, once upon a time."
"Did he play later in life?" I asked. "Did you ever hear him play in the last 10 years?"
"Oh, no," she said. "That would just be drums. He loved hand drumming. I think he just connected to the drum. That's the first thing we hear is the heartbeat of our mothers. That's what connects us to who we are. And Frank just … he honoured that."
As Frank Joe was dying, with his family around him, others who loved him joined together to play him a song. They recorded themselves playing one of his favourite songs: The Bear Song. They shared the video with him through Facebook.
"For our dearest elder," wrote one of the performers. "We are thinking of you tonight."