Obituary of Pedro C. Perez

If you’re reading this, it must be that our dear Pedrito has been called home to serve God from
above. As a long time familial figure in the Adams Morgan community, he was known for his unwavering
kindness, the many cups of coffee that he invited neighbors and friends on the street to, and the
hilarious “I Love Weed” hat that embarrassed his kids and showed how much courage he had.
 

Pedro was born in October of 1960 in the rural village of Temastian in the state of Jalisco,
Mexico. Being from a humble village, he grew up happy to run on fields of corn with makeshift sandals
cut from truck tires. Nevertheless, he knew there was much more to life and his family needed more
opportunities that were unavailable to them. He took the bold and dangerous decision to immigrate to
California through Tijuana in 1982 with nothing but the clothes on his back, and a deep desire in his
heart to succeed.

Always a hard worker, he began tending the fields of California picking grapes, lettuce, and
anything he was able to earn a living off of. His hard work and dedication would eventually pay off when
eventually, under the Reagan Administration, he was offered an opportunity to apply for legal residency
in the US. He made a point to his family that we should be thankful, not to him, but to his employer at
that time who encouraged him and signed off on his sponsorship. With his new residency, he flew across
the US to the East Coast upon a friends insistence that there were infinitely better work opportunities in
Maryland. Well; his friend was wrong and Pedro wound up unemployed shortly thereafter. However, he
met Zeferina Avila, whom he would eventually marry, raise 3 rowdy boys with (and inevitably divorce 25
years later than the boys had expected).

Realizing he was here for the long haul, a thrilling journey in DC was unfolding. He moved his
family to Adams Morgan in 1991 where he thrived in the community Latino grocery store (on Columbia
and Biltmore Street) as both the stocker and more prominently, as your neighborhood butcher. He
continued working in the area, eventually stocking the shelves of the AB Liquors on Columbia Road, and
then working events as Lead Steward for the Washington Hilton on Connecticut Ave. Along the way, he
made countless friends, all of whom remind us that he was the kindest, most hardworking colleague
they’ve had the pleasure of working with. Eventually, his hardworking years would meet their match
with his chronic diabetes, which concluded with the amputation of the right big (greater) toe. Despite
leaving a part of himself behind at that hospital, he was determined to not let it slow him down. He
regained his ability to walk normally (albeit slower), and during his early retirement at age 56, he’d
begun to do odd jobs for local grocery stores, retail stores, and restaurants to both make some extra
cash and to contribute to his community however he could. When he wasn’t doing odd jobs, he’d share
his experience with other immigrants to help them find important services and gain work opportunities.

He was a friend to all that met him, and a hero to his boys for powering through his biggest life
challenge: an alcohol addiction that spanned just under 40 years. It was a part of his life so ingrained in
him that he would often have a 24 ouncer for breakfast, lunch, a snack, and dinner. He could easily
outdrink most, in a habit he often expressed remorse about. He tried many things to overcome it on his
own, from AA to medication and therapies, until one day, during his breakfast beer, he stopped midway
realizing it didn’t taste very good. He tossed that one out thinking it was a bad beer, knowing he’d get
one at noon. Well, he got his lunch beer, cracked it open and took a swig, only to stop in disgust and
throw it out, never to drink one ever again. He continued to live a healthier lifestyle, through what
would have been his 4th year of sobriety (a feat he was very proud of!), demonstrating to all of us that
miracles do exist.

He stayed true to his roots, always remembering the family that saw him leave Mexico in 1982.
Throughout his time in the United States, he would send money to take care of his parents, until their
passing on 2012. Even then, he continued to be a hero for his remaining family in Mexico sending money
to fix the old family home, calling them almost every single day to lend them an ear, and visiting them
every year for the festivities of their patron Saint. He always looked forward to the annual pilgrimage to
pray for family and the his community in DC. He’d always come back to bring a little bit of culture to our
family in DC, and found many ways to keep us connected, something we’re all grateful for.

Unfortunately, this holiday season would be the first time he’d purchased a flight he couldn’t fly.
On the week of Thanksgiving, he complained of fatigue and decided to come home early from his gig.
Soon thereafter, the rest of our family began feeling the same fatigue accompanied with fevers, and our
fears were slowly confirmed. Pedro took a Covid 19 test, but needed to go to the hospital due to
shortness of breath before ever seeing the positive test result. Doctors were able to catch him on time
to provide oxygen support, but eventually realized he would need ventilator support. We reluctantly
moved forward hoping it would save him (it helped tremendously), but unfortunately developed a
strong Covid Pneumonia and contracted MRSA leading to 2 additional fights with dangerous
pneumonias. Ever the stubborn one, he beat Covid and the three pneumonic infections, but his lungs
sustained considerable damage. On January 16th at about 4:30 am, we received a call to let us know he
only had an hour left. We rushed to the hospital to be by his side, however God needed him urgently,
and he passed away peacefully just a few short minutes after that call.

Pedro loved family; building and taking care of his was his pride and joy. He’s survived by his
boys Joel, Angel, and Daniel, his ex-wife Zeferina, his sisters Celia, Asunción, and Castorina, his brothers
Salvador and Pancho, an army of nieces and nephews, his first little granddaughter Mayazefe, (with
many more on the way!), and a gigantic community in Adams Morgan and throughout Washington DC
that adopted him as both a friend and a brother, cousin, uncle, father, and grandpa. If you made it this
far, then he was probably one of those for you too. We will have a memorial mass at St. Camillus Church
on Saturday at 2pm EST where all may come to share one last “coffee moment” with Pedrito, the king of
Columbia Road. Feel free to wear your favorite sports hat, he’d a worn one with you too!

Shortly thereafter, we’re going grant him his last wish and help him catch that flight he missed
to rest with his parents in the land he loved so much.