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Grace and Dignity: A Tribute to Pete

By Jason Quick, Sr. Director, Diamond Cut Research, GIA

Jason Quick, Sr. Director, Diamond Cut Research at GIA, worked closely with Pete at AGS Laboratories on light performance, and they stayed in close contact over the years. Now at GIA, Jason wanted to share a few words in Pete’s memory.

Happiness is an inside job.

These words, along with so many other Pete-isms, are permanently burned in my brain. (Sorry, Pete, I’m having a hard time being happy with your passing. We all are. Do you have any idea how missed you are?)

Pete’s smile was contagious. Big, happy, joyful. Straight from the heart. It was complemented by the ever-present twinkle in his eye. Or should I say, sparkle? A knowing, boyish, and slightly mischievous sparkle.

Every morning, he’d walk around the lab giving the team “elbows,” Pete’s brand of a high-five or a fist bump. Hygienic. Friendly. And a bit quirky. Classic Pete.

“Go home, Q. Take care of your family. Work-life balance.” I’m grateful beyond words that I listened when it mattered most, and disappointed in myself when I didn’t. Pete was a sage, but not a saint. As transparent as a diamond, Pete was always open to everyone about his life … and his regrets. Shockingly open. Suffice it to say, his character, wisdom, and twinkle were born from a life fully lived and explored.

Happiness is an inside job.

Pete was unconventional, bordering on eccentric. Original. Authentic. He had a unique, quirky way of closing every email and letter. It was never “Thank You,” “Sincerely,” or “Best Wishes.” But rather, it was the one word that in hindsight captured his essence—“Heartily.”

“It’s a Great Day to be Alive!” Another of Pete’s mantras. It was on his voicemail (work and private), and anyone who knew Pete must have heard it 1,000 times.

And bittersweetly, he was still reciting his mantra even when he knew he was dying. Pete, being Pete, was still smiling his big smile and touching hearts. Visitors coming to his house were offered cribbage lessons and tours of his favorite photographs. He was still cracking jokes. Smiling. Being friendly. Being Pete.

So many memories of going to lunch with Pete through the years. Wherever we went, it was always the same. “Pete!!” The staff would shout when seeing their funny, outgoing, big-smiling friend. And he would greet everyone by name, asking how they were doing, and spreading his light. Everyone loves Pete.

Happiness, according to Pete, comes from the heart. Not from things. Not from circumstances. Not from legacy. Or any other outside factors. It’s an intentional, INSIDE job. A choice. A way of life.

When facing setbacks or challenges, his advice and approach were always the same—“grace and dignity,” he would say. Followed by “It is what it is.” We choose how we respond. How we live. We choose who we are, how we treat others, and whether we stay in the light or falter.

Happiness is an inside job.

I think I finally understand.

I miss you, Pete. We all do. Not for your work (which was legendary) but for YOU… Your smile. Your heart. Your soul. Words can’t express our respect. Our love. And our gratitude.

 

Heartily,

Q and friends