With great sorrow and much love we mourn the passing of Peter Shapter at the age of 69 years. Peter is predeceased by his parents; Dr. A. E. Shapter and Elizabeth Bartlett Shapter. Leaving to mourn are his devoted wife Jean Butler, loving stepdaughter Kate Butler and his dearly loved niece Jodi Sturge and great-nephew Wilem Sturge. Also, leaving to mourn are his dear friends; Brett Dawe and Jean Williams and her extended family. Peter was an academic and an athlete.  He graduated from Queen Elisabeth Regional High School in 1973 receiving scholarships for university. He attended Memorial University and graduated from the MUN Engineering Program, coming 2nd in his class. In 1978, Peter rowed in the Royal St. John’s Regatta Civil Service race with the MUN Engineering crew who won the race against HMP. Peter loved hockey and was a die-hard Maple Leafs fan.  He was an excellent defenseman.  In high school he played for Portugal Cove in 1972-73 when they defeated Prince of Wales Collegiate. He also played varsity hockey with the Memorial Beothuck's team. He played junior hockey with the Windsor Trojans and the St. John’s Junior Capitals.  Peter then joined the CBS Senior League and played with the Upper Gullies, Chamberlains and Paradise teams.  After an on ice injury in 1982 he hung up his skates.  In recent years, Peter played shinny in Paradise and at Twin Rinks in St. John’s. Peter had many interests and hobbies.  He was an amateur geologist and a backyard farmer.  He loved music and reading non-fiction books. He especially enjoyed campfires, walking on Topsail Beach and boondocking with his wife in their 1987 campervan.  Peter found joy in everyday life with his wife and daughter.  He will be sorely missed. Cremation has taken place.  

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Immortality by Clare Harner

Do not stand

By my grave and weep,

I am not there,

I do not sleep--

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints in snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn rain.

As you awake with morning’s hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand.

By my grave, and cry --

I am not there,

I did not die.