The world lost a giant yesterday. Bill Pelke, founder of Journey of Hope…from Violence to Forgiveness, passed away in his home in Alaska after suffering a heart attack.
Bill is the heart behind the anti-death penalty’s powerful mantra “love and compassion for all of humanity.” He came to this vision — and spread the message to countless people around the world — after his grandmother Ruth was murdered by three teenage girls in 1985.
One of the girls, 15-year-old Paula Cooper, was sentenced to death. People across the globe called for her release. A piece about Paula in The Intercept explains:
“One of Paula’s earliest and most unlikely supporters was an Indiana steelworker named Bill Pelke — Ruth Pelke’s grandson. A young devout Christian and Vietnam veteran, Bill had seen his father scrubbing the blood from the walls and carpet in his grandmother’s house. Yet he soon came to believe that his Nana would not have wanted to see this young girl executed. He was particularly haunted by the memory of Paula Cooper’s own grandfather on the day she was sentenced to die. As he would later recount in a 2003 memoir, neither Paula’s mother or father attended the 1986 hearing, but her grandfather had been escorted out of the courtroom, wailing, ‘They are going to kill my baby!’ Pelke later went to visit him and the two looked at photo albums of Paula and her sister, Rhonda. The girls had grown up amid harrowing abuse and neglect.”
Bill’s heart was so big. His ability to see Paula as a child of God extended to everyone — all of humanity. He built the Journey of Hope as a place for those impacted by violence — murder victims’ family members as well as the families of those executed and those wrongly sentenced to death row and later released — to share their stories so others could see there were better solutions to violence. There are ways for us to heal together, when we are able to extend love and compassion.
Long before I met Bill his reputation was firmly established in the anti-death penalty world. He’d written a memoir, appeared on “Oprah,” and travelled the globe to share his message. I had the great pleasure to work directly with Bill in 2013 to help plan a national conference against the death penalty. It was amazing to see him in action. He was a visionary. Bill wasn’t concerned about details like time or money (he left me to fret about those things). He just knew what needed to be brought into the world. And in no small part due to his charismatic personality, it almost always worked out.
Bill was so beloved because he was so loving. His vision for the world wasn’t academic or removed…he lived it. In his gruff steelworker voice he would tell us, “I love you.”
We loved him back fiercely.
I’m going to miss Bill. I’m going to laugh at the ways he drove me crazy — the time I created a meticulous plan, wrote it out for him to implement, walked him through the steps, and when it was time for executing the plan he turned to the group and said, “Now Colleen will tell you what we do next.”
Not the plan. Didn’t matter. Bill wasn’t worried about taking credit or being in charge or stressing about the details. He had faith it would all work out. Because of his vision and faith and tireless work, he’s moved mountains.
Our work is not done. Bill’s memory is another reason to compel us forward.
Bill said he was going to retire in 2013. He most certainly did not. I’m glad he’s getting some rest now. This is probably the only way he ever would, and he’s done more than his share to make the world a better place.
