Celebration of Life Remarks from Judge William Pate

Video: The Honorable William Pate remembering Peter Riddle

Peter Emmons Riddle, as you know, was a high achiever, a man of many accomplishments, a wearer of many hats.  Depending on the setting, he was regularly called Captain Riddle, or Judge Riddle, or your Honor, or Dad or Granddad.

I was and am very proud to have called him “my friend.”  In fact, Pete was more than a friend; in many ways he was family.  In our family, Pete was called IGOR, a title of which he was very proud.  He was our friend for over 40 years and part of the Pate Family for almost that long.  Pete and his two amazing daughters Katherine and Susan were always welcome in our home. 

There are many yardsticks by which Pete could be measured.  Such as a military officer and combat veteran, an athlete, a lawyer and a judge.  I choose to measure Pete as a devoted father and family man.  I do not think one could have been a more conscientious and devoted father than Pete was to his two daughters and later on to his grandchildren. 

Whenever we were together the first topic of conversation was a “sitrep” on his children and grandchildren and my sons and grandchildren.  I think this spoke volumes about his priorities.  Only after we were both caught up on this important information did we delve into other topics of interest.

Our lives were interwoven from the early 1970’s to the present.  We had much in common, both veterans of the Vietnam War, Pete as a Seal and I as a Marine.  We were recent law school graduates, and busy raising a family in Coronado, with a strong interest in community.  Pete twice served on the Coronado City Council.

For a while, we were both coaching one of our children’s soccer teams.  We practiced on the same field and at the end of the last practice of the week we would hold a scrimmage between Pete’s girls team and our team.  As coaches we had a side wager that the coach of the losing team would have to do pushups.  Thankfully, Pete usually had to do the pushups.  He would hit the ground and to the amazement of the players and other coaches pop off about 70 pushups without stopping. 

For many years we ran together almost every morning.  We would check in with each other in the evening and Pete would announce he would be “standing tall” in front of my house at 0500.  I would always respond, “How else could you be standing?”  Pete would then let out with his famous belly laugh.

You can learn a lot about a person when running for miles early in the morning.  We talked most of the way.  Sometimes one of us would complain and threaten to “take off our pack” as our way of being funny.  Pete would tell stories from his days playing high school baseball as a catcher in Chicago, or about the time he broke Rev. Jesse Jackson’s nose playing intramural football while both of them were at the University of Chicago.

One particular story was touching.  In 1968, after law school, Pete was a member of Governor Nelson Rockefeller’s presidential campaign staff.  On that terrible day when Robert Kennedy was assassinated in Los Angeles, Gov. Rockefeller sent Pete to the Kennedy family where he teamed up with L.A. Rams’ star Roosevelt Grier to assist and help protect the Kennedy children during this very traumatic time in their lives.

Interestingly, we spoke very little about our respective times in Vietnam.  When Pete mentioned it, it was usually to point out that when they wanted to know how deep a river or stream was, they would send Pete out to act as a human depth gauge because he was always the tallest. 

However, he did speak often and fondly of his SEAL training which you have heard about from his teammate Admiral Irish Flynn.

During our friendship Pete was a bachelor for a number of years.  We had many talks during that difficult time in his life, but there was always one constant, he always kept his focus on Katherine and Susan and being the best father possible.

It was during these many years of being a single parent that Igor really became a part of our family.  I think my wife Chris and our four sons were more responsible for that than I.  Pete enjoyed being around four rambunctious boys.  He frequently commented that we lived on the edge of chaos, but he loved it.  And to top it off, Chris is an amazing cook and Pete can put away the food, what a combination.

Pete always had impeccable timing.  Just by happenstance Pete would drop by to visit just as Chris was cooking up a mound of blueberry or banana pancakes for breakfast.  Her eyes would light up as Pete came walking into the kitchen, because even though she was cooking for four boys, a husband and usually a foreign exchange student, with Igor there she would get to make at least two more batches of pancakes.

During this time, with our four sons we had multiple sporting events every Saturday.  It was our goal to make sure we attended all of the boys’ games.  Pete would frequently jump in and volunteer to cover one or more games. 

On one occasion our oldest son Bill was playing in a JV football game and Pete was there with our son Bryan because Chris and I were traveling to Monterey.  During the game Bill suffered a severe fracture to his upper arm at the shoulder.  In typical fashion, Pete immediately took charge, putting Bill and Bryan in his car and driving to the ER.  He then got ahold of Chris’ brother, an orthopedic surgeon, who operated on Bill that evening.  In the meantime, Pete contacted us upon our arrival in Monterey and stayed with Bill until we got back around 1am the next morning.  He was our Igor.

However, on occasion Igor’s help was not always fully appreciated.  For years, Pete’s daughters would babysit our boys when we went to Sunday afternoon Charger games.  Pete inevitably came along to help.  One afternoon we got back home and everything looked fine in the house until we walked into the kitchen.  One of us looked up and going across the kitchen ceiling were these black marks.  When we asked the boys what caused this, they told us that Igor had held our youngest son, Doug, upside down so he could walk on the ceiling.  

Pete used to participate in a triathlon called the “Super Frog” which was primarily for active and former SEALS.   On our Monday morning run after a Super Frog, I asked Pete how he had done.  He was crestfallen.  By the time he had finished the swim portion just about everyone was long out of the water and on their bikes.  Pete took off down the Strand on his bike and got a flat tire that apparently took forever to repair. Then on to the run.  He said that by the time he finished the run they were taking down the finish line banner, most contestants had gone home and they were sweeping up the empty beer cans. 

Although he didn’t say so, I knew he would take steps to make himself more competitive.  A few weeks later on a run he tells me he had a very embarrassing incident happen to him the day before.  In order to improve his swimming he had decided to swim from North Island to the Amphibious Base, swimming parallel to the beach.  Well as he drew abreast of the Central Beach lifeguard tower, a life guard comes out and asks him if he was alright.  Apparently while watching Pete swim, the lifeguard grew concerned he might be drowning. I think it was that incident that caused Pete to join the Masters Swimming program at UCSD under the tutelage of Sickie, whom you will hear from later. 

For me personally it was a loss because swim practice was in the morning and I lost my running partner, but not my friend.  For Pete, it was great. He became an accomplished competitive swimmer and met Betsy, his wife.

In the 1980’s, with the election of George Deukmejian as Governor, Pete was one of a handful of people the Governor relied upon to make recommendations for judicial appointments to the state courts for San Diego County.  For at least a couple of years Pete would urge Chris and me to apply for appointment to the Superior Court.  We consistently told him thanks but no thanks.  Pete persisted and I finally had a change of heart and with the help of Pete was appointed to our local Superior Court.  Chris resisted for another year and a half before being appointed.

About a year after I was appointed Pete came to me for a career counseling session.  Pete had a cadre of 3 or 4 people that he would seek advice from about life or career decisions.  You see, Pete had this philosophy that one needed to be re-potted every so often.  So about once a decade Pete would seek my advice.  Since he wanted to be re-potted, I considered myself more of an advisory horticulturalist than a career counsellor.  

In 1987, Pete sought my advice on seeking a judicial appointment himself. He was not a trial attorney, having specialized in probate and estate planning. Since I had thoroughly enjoyed my first few months on the bench, I advised Pete to go for it, but cautioned that because he was not a career trial attorney, there would be a steep learning curve.  To rectify this, he decided to seek appointment to the Municipal Court and if that went well then apply for elevation to the Superior Court. 

Pete was appointed in 1987 and took to judging like a SEAL to water.  He jumped in with both feet and quickly mastered the requirements of being a good trial court judge.  Shortly thereafter he was appointed to the Superior Court.

As one would expect Pete took on the toughest assignments.  In the early 90’s we both sat in Juvenile Court.  Pete took on a dependency calendar, which is emotionally the most demanding assignment on any court. 

I am reminded of a quote from Pete’s favorite political figure, Theodore Roosevelt: "Far and away the best prize that life has to offer is the chance to work hard at work worth doing." Pete achieved that prize as a Juvenile Court Judge.

There is no jury so the judge must make all of the critical decisions that determine whether and under what circumstances a child may remain with his or her parents.  Pete heard cases all day long and then read a massive stack of files in preparation for the next day’s calendar.  He was totally dedicated to being fully prepared and to making the best decisions possible in a very emotionally charged arena.  He did it with a calm, gentlemanly demeanor that let all the concerned parties know that they had been heard and their position carefully considered.

As Teddy Roosevelt also said: "Courtesy is as much a mark of a gentleman as courage." Pete was a consummate gentleman, with limitless courage who was courteous to all. Even after he retired, Pete worked on assignment half time doing dependency cases.  In addition to that you would find Pete playing games with the children in the oncology ward at Rady Children’s Hospital, serving Thanksgiving dinner to the homeless and taking history courses at UCSD.

When Pete married Betsy, it seemed like a match made in heaven but I think it was more likely made in the water.  We were very happy for both of them, and as an additional bonus our food bill declined substantially. They were married for over 20 years.  Even with his disease, he insisted on having a renewal of vows to mark 20 years.

Hopefully my remarks have given you some insight into five decades of a man loved and admired by so many.  So Igor you now have permission to take off that pack, you have carried it well and faithfully.  You will be in our hearts forever.   

Carry on, Capt. Riddle.

    

Celebration of Life Remarks from Admiral Cathal Flynn

Video: Rear Admiral Cathal Flynn remembering Peter Riddle

Betsy, Katherine, Susan, Sandra, family members, friends of Pete.

Pete Riddle was a great man, just great. That was apparent from his arrival in Underwater Demolition Team Twelve in 1962. In the company of strong, physically fit men, he stood out for his fitness, not just for his height. We others knew of his football feats at Yale, where he had played in the offensive AND defensive lines, so his stamina wasn’t surprising. His appearance and demeanor were impressive, as was his baritone voice that on operations conveyed authority without menace, as well as calm expectation that orders would be followed. When raised at all, that voice was most often raised in laughter. Innately dignified, Pete was the friendliest of men, impressive but not impressed with himself.

Pete’s calmness stood him well on an underwater training event one day, here in San Diego. He and his platoon were searching the bottom of a cruiser for practice limpet mines. For the exercise, the ship was meant to turn off its sea water intakes. This time, an intake was unintentionally left on, not secured as is said in the Navy. Pete was in a line of scuba swimmers under the ship, searching it from stem to stern. It was his bad luck to come upon the open intake, and he was immediately sucked hard against it. His scuba mouthpiece and face mask were ripped from him, leaving him airless, partially blind and pinned hard by the force of water through the intake, but he had the coolness and presence of mind to hold his breath and wait for the intake to be secured. This was done soon enough for Pete to come off the intake and be led to the surface. And all was well.  In telling of this event, Pete’s emphasis was never on the details of his close call, but on a Chief Petty Officer’s dry remark the next day: "You really shouldn’t pretend to be an abalone, Mr. Riddle."

Although Pete intended to leave active duty and go to law school, it had no effect on his performance as a naval officer. His attitude was to be professional as long as he served. He joined the Naval Reserve, got his J.D., and was admitted to the Bar. He then did something surprising. He requested and was granted a return to active duty, this time as a member of SEAL Team ONE, which by then was hotly involved in the Vietnam War. To him, his reasons were straightforward. Men with whom he had served on active duty were returning to Vietnam for their second or third tours, and he hadn’t been once. Secondly, he couldn’t stay on the sidelines, an older, thoroughly trained Reservist, while tens of thousands of teenagers were being drafted and sent to Vietnam. To Pete there was no issue. He stepped forward, and was soon leading a SEAL detachment involved in conducting special operations far into North Vietnam. At the time, the operations were Top Secret, and it wasn’t until 30 years later that he and his SEALs were included in the award of a Presidential Unit Citation.

Having done this duty, Pete returned to the Reserves, initially preparing to augment the regular forces in operations against the Soviet Union and its satellites had a third world war broken out. Thanks to him and his contemporaries, the naval special warfare Reserves were ready to take on essential support roles in the Balkans, the first Gulf War, and the post-9/11 conflicts. He was promoted several times, eventually to Captain, US Naval Reserve.

For about the last year of his life, I was privileged to spend time with Pete, a good bit of it at the Naval Amphibious Base where we went to swim. We would recall our days as UDT and SEAL contemporaries, speak of brave men we knew, admire even more the heroism and competence of today’s SEALs, and give trainees, when we saw them, an encouraging, we hoped, Hooyah.

In addition to his innate strength and courage, Pete drew something from his frogman and SEAL experiences, and particularly from the basic training. Evoking that early time, he would say “No whining,” and “we do our best.” In that training, a watchword is “The only easy day was yesterday.” Said sardonically, it means there are no easy days, that every day is hard. But there’s no whining and we do our best. That was Pete to the end.

There’s a poem of Emerson’s that’s apt here. It asks, What is Success? And answers…

To laugh often and much

To win the respect of the intelligent people

and the affection of children

To appreciate beauty

To find the best in others

To leave the world a bit better

whether by a healthy child,

a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition;

To know that one life has breathed easier

Because you lived here

This is to have succeeded.

Hooyah Pete!

A Life Well Lived

Navy SEAL Chris Day captures the essence of Pete in his brief note:

I used to tease Pete that he set the standard for what it is to be a man, and that he set that bar awfully high. But it was never really a joke. He really did.

I looked up to Pete in just about every avenue of life. As a sailor and warrior, as a leader, as a professional, as a pal, as a shining example of the benefits of a fit and active life. Most of all, I suppose, it was his steady and calm demeanor (through which bubbled that dry humor) in the face of anything that drew me to him.

***

What follows is a brief overview of Pete's life using photos not yet featured on this Celebration site:

Pete in 1938 in Highland Park, IL.

Riding a pony with brother Bill circa 1942.

The summer of 1950.

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Number 49 charging out for the big high school football game!

His wedding to first wife Sandra Justice.

Just another day at the office.

His favorite job: parenting! Here with daughters Katherine and Susan around 1970. 

He took Katherine (pictured) and Susan paddle boating every weekend. 

Management 101: Grandad in his element.

Blood, dirt, sweat, but no tears at the Camp Pendleton Mud Run.

Superior Court Judge Selena Epley adds her perspective as a fellow swimmer and judge:

I had the distinct honor of swimming with Judge Riddle between 1999 and 2002 at UCSD.  He was truly a gentle giant and the picture of kindness, integrity and dignity.  My fondest memory of Judge Riddle is when we were swimming inside at the Natatorium and Sickie had some of the swimmers demonstrate synchronized swimming moves.  Being a good sport that he was always was, Judge Riddle showed off a perfect single legged pirouette but his leg looked to be about 10 feet long!  It also never failed to touch me that Judge Riddle, who had to get out of the pool before Betsy to go to work, would always come out of the locker room before he left and stand at the end of Betsy's lane until she was between sets so he could bid her farewell.  

His wedding to Betsy in 1994.

Traveling the world together.

 A life well lived, indeed.

Musings from the Webb Grandchildren

Pete waving from the left on a Poudre River rafting trip in Colorado with various members of the Webb, Houlihan, and Nichols families.

Mariana and Ben Webb, the children of Betsy's oldest daughter Amy and her husband, Robin, share their memories of Pete, completing the picture of how devoted Pete and Betsy have always been to their 11 grandchildren. 

Pete with Mariana Webb, left, and her cousins Meg and Erin Houlihan

My most treasured memory of Pete is from a Colorado Christmas a few years back. One day, it worked out that just Grandma Betsy, Pete, and I were alone at 1032 Hawthorn for the afternoon. Over hot cups of tea and a tall glass of apple juice for Pete, we began talking. Although I had always loved and admired Pete, it wasn’t until this snowy afternoon that I realized what a kind, courageous man he was. He recounted how he had signed up to go to Vietnam. Seeing the inequality in those who were drafted (the majority were young and poor boys from the South), Pete felt it was his duty to join up too, fighting beside these brave boys. Although Pete always talked about people around him as “stand up guys,” I think he was the real stand up guy. I will carry a piece of Pete’s strong values and kindness in me for as long as I live.  - Mariana Webb, 19

Ben and Pete hit the surf together in Coronado.

Visiting Pete and Grandma Betsy in Coronado often included expeditions to the beach to go boogie boarding or bike riding around town -- usually with Pete leading the way and making sure everyone was safe crossing the streets.   To keep up everyone's energy we would stop for ice cream, or maybe when we got back home pick lemons from the tree in the front yard to make fresh squeezed lemonade.  Grandma and Pete had a special room in their guest house filled with toys for visiting grandchildren.  Some of my favorite memories were sitting down with Grandma and Pete doing puzzles and playing Monster in My Pocket. It was always a special event to ride the ferry from Coronado to San Diego to go to a Padres game and then wander along the waterfront with Pete.  - Ben Webb, 16

Ben and Pete.

Whence Came this Spirit of Adventure?

From his parents, of course! 

Both graduates of the University of Chicago, Hugh Riddle and Katherine Madison were rarely idle. Hugh loved to fly airplanes, and even started his own commuter airline at one time. 

Katherine was a beloved schoolteacher with a passion for ice boat sailing.

With Hugh and Katherine as parents, along with two older brothers, not a single slothful moment could descend upon the young Pete. Nor would it ever!

"A Critical Situation"

Class 28: Look for the tall guy on the right.

Nick Nickelson, WC Class-28, UDT-12, shared this excerpt from his book UTD/SEAL Stories of the 1960s. Sections about Pete are highlighted in blue, but the whole passage sets the stage for the "situation." To fully understand, read Nickelson's account:

We were into our third week at San Clemente Island and making preparations for a night problem that we anxiously anticipated. This may have been the only problem, while at Clemente, or during training for that matter, that the trainees of Class-28 actually looked forward to. For this particular night problem, each boat crew would be given a map, a compass, and a set of map coordinates. This night was intended to prove or disprove our navigational capabilities. Each boat crew would follow the prescribed coordinates to the other side of the Island and locate an item, previously sealed inside a tin can and buried by the instructors. These items had been buried in separate and varied locations, so each boat crew would be given a different set of map coordinates before being sent on its way. 

For this exercise we would be on our own, working within our individual boat crews, without Instructors breathing down our necks. While we relished the fact that we would be operating without Instructors, the most important aspect of this night problem was the fact that it did not involve water; therefore we would be in warm clothes and dry. There were very few times during BUDS when we were not wet and cold so we planned to make the most of this unusual opportunity.

It was roughly twenty hundred hours or eight at night when we started.  We were told that the round trip, if we ran and jogged, and we were expected to run and jog, would take no more than four to five hours. Therefore we should have no problem locating our target and returning to our base camp by no later than zero one hundred hours or one in the morning. Whenever the Instructors used the word “should” you knew they actually meant, “would” and that punishment awaited those boat crews who didn’t adhere to this deadline.

At this point of training, all of the men assigned to the boat crew, to which I was assigned, had been together since shortly after “Hell Week”. We therefore knew each other well and had a good understanding of each other’s strengths and capabilities. I purposely didn’t say strengths and weaknesses because those men who reached this point of training did not possess weaknesses or at least weaknesses worth mentioning.

Our boat crew consisted of five men, two of which were officers. This was unusual because a normal boat crew would be comprised of one officer and six enlisted men. However, due to attrition, the standard Class-28 boat crew consisted of one officer and four enlisted men. The officer serves as the boat coxswain and it is his job to sit in the aft section of the Inflatable Boat Small (IBS) and steer the boat. The remaining four men are stationed two on each side of the IBS and it is their job to paddle. As I mentioned earlier, due to heavy attrition, Class-28 had nine boat crews and ten officers. Therefore, our boat crew wound up with two officers and they were both solid operators as well as excellent officers.

Larry (Butchie) Miller, Pete Riddle, Mike Paul, and Tony Zemos

Mike Paul was our boat coxswain and a real character. He is also a man I have included in numerous other stories so I won’t elaborate. Peter Riddle (Pete) was the second officer assigned to our boat crew. Pete was the tallest member of our class, standing at least six foot six inches. He was also a person who possessed that rare ability of being funny without attempting to do so or even knowing that he was being funny. It would be Mr. Riddle and some of his impromptu comments that kept our boat crew laughing when times were really difficult.  Tony Zimos, Larry Miller and yours truly made up the balance of the boat crew and in time we became a well-oiled machine and excelled in all matters related to operating as a boat crew during BUDS training.

San Clemente Island, where we conducted our final three weeks of training, is the southernmost of the eight Channel Islands, situated in the Pacific Ocean, off the coast of Southern California. It is roughly twenty miles long, five miles wide, and is comprised of some very steep mountains and difficult terrain. I always thought San Clemente was the sister Island of Santa Catalina because they are relatively near each other. However, unlike Catalina which is visible from all Los Angeles coastal cities, San Clemente is much further from the coast and not readily visible. In addition, unlike Santa Catalina, the Island of San Clemente is owned by the United States Government and has served as a Naval training site and target range since 1934.

Now, back to our night problem. It was due to the steep gradient and difficult terrain of San Clemente Island that we would be afforded four to five hours to complete a problem that only required that we traverse a five-mile stretch to the appointed target, then a five mile return trip to our base camp. As the crow flies this would not have proven to be a difficult task but because we aren’t crows, we would be required to traverse a number of the steep hills that make up San Clemente Island, then do the same on the return leg of this particular night problem.

Roughly half way through the first leg of our trip, Pete’s humor came into play. Though he didn’t know it at the time he was about to put forth one of his all time greats. We were crossing a field and in the darkness it was difficult to see the ground under our feet let alone where we were placing each foot as we jogged along to our designated target. As we were charging forward I heard a low groan from Mr. Riddle and he then came to an abrupt halt. Pete looked like a man who had just stepped on a land mine. He stood there frozen not willing to take a step in any direction for fear it might detonate. He then said, “Nickelson, you have to help me, something has attached itself to my leg and won’t let go.” By this time he had pulled out his K-bar knife and was making futile gestures toward his ankle trying to dislodge whatever evil creature had taken hold of his leg just above the top of his boot. As I walked back it happened, Mr. Riddle then said, “Nickelson, this is a critical situation, be very careful that it doesn’t attack you.” 

By now the other three members of our boat crew had returned to where Pete and I were standing but they were warned to hold their ground and come no closer. As I approached he just stood there and repeated, “Nickelson, what we have here is a critical situation.” I must admit I was very cautious as I moved forward with my K-bar knife drawn and ready, prepared to kill this varmint that had attached itself to Pete’s leg and was most assuredly sucking his blood. Then, as I reached down and pulled-up his pant’s leg what I found attached to Mr. Riddle’s sock was a very large bur, or prickly seed capsule from one of San Clemente’s native plants, not the creature we had anticipated finding. We were all relieved that it was not the blood-sucking critter that we had expected to find and as I removed it, Mr. Riddle heaved a huge sigh of relief. I started to laugh and it was all I could do to regain my feet as I thought about Mr. Riddle’s repeated statement; “Nickelson, this is a critical situation.” The other members of our boat crew thought it was equally funny and after a few minutes even Pete started to laugh. This was simply an example of Mr. Riddle being able to lighten-up a difficult situation without intending to or even knowing that he had done so.

As for the operation at hand, we would go on to find the item, buried by the Instructors, and return to our base camp within the allotted time given to complete this particular night problem. As for Mr. Riddle, he would continue to say things that would lighten up almost any difficult situation and for that I would always hold him in fond esteem.   

Soon after the conclusion of this particular night problem, training for Class-28 would come to an end and we would receive the new assignments we had worked so hard to attain. We would be awarded our individual places in the Teams. Then, like every man who had gone before us, we would find ourselves embroiled in life threatening and truly critical situations. Whenever this would happen, if given the time and under certain conditions, I would think back on that night at San Clemente and the comment made by Mr. Riddle; “Nickelson, this is a critical situation” and somehow the thought of that night and those few words would help relieve the tension of the current situation and make it seem just a little less overwhelming.